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[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 44: A Happy Ending

"There are details!" she breathlessly exclaimed when she pulled away from him. The reality of a wedding tonight was settling in, romantic as he knew she'd find it, the planner within her was starting to overwhelm. "There are things that need done…people, announcements, at this hour-"

"I'll take care of all that," he promised with a shake of his head. "Marry me."

Her smile spread once more as she nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Prepare your vows? Meet me in an hour? I'll do the rest."

"Where?"

"The well," he answered without thinking. To him it was as normal as answering with "in a church" in this realm, but the more he thought about it…

It might have been a cheesy tradition in his old village, but it worked for them. The well was someplace special for them even here.

"The place we first kissed after the curse broke, after you came back to me. Give me a chance to make a promise to you there that I'll keep for the rest of our lives."

She beamed. Then nodded her head as her eyes glazed over with tears. "In an hour then," she answered, her voice choked with an emotion that he no longer thought was from grief but rather joy.

It was appropriate. He felt the shift too.

Quickly he leaned forward to kiss her, then moved away the second he managed to tear himself free, and left her in the library, knowing he'd see her soon. As much as he hated to do it without giving her the ring in his pocket, parting was necessary. The truth was that there were things that needed to be done if they intended to do this today, but not nearly as much as she thought.

People and announcements…those were wants. Not needs.

Needs for a marriage were quite simple.

They needed a place. And they had one. The well.

They needed an officiant, someone who could pronounce them officially husband and wife. He wasn't one for a Holy Man, but being who he was, he knew there was someone in town who was licensed in an official and legal capacity, who might not mind doing the deed.

He found Archie still at Granny's with the others. The man went pale when he pulled him aside to speak with him privately, not that he could blame him. Not only was he the Dark One, but he was also Mr. Gold, a man who never smiled unless something sinister was afoot, and yet he couldn't keep himself from smiling even now. But color returned to the man's cheeks as he explained the situation, as he told him that he knew he was friends with Belle and couldn't think of anyone else who might not only consider performing the wedding but might actually enjoy it. He expected a lecture from the cricket who prided himself on being a conscious to people who were acting against their own, but instead, he'd nodded his head and said, "I'd be honored."

A place secured, Archie preparing, the details given, a ring in his pocket already that he simply couldn't wait to give away, he realized that the list of "needs" had been fulfilled. Thirty minutes remaining didn't give him a lot of time to fulfill many "wants," but it allowed for some. He drove home quickly, changed suits, selected a steal gray tie and pocket square, then added a scarf for a bit of extra flair, and summoned a fresh white flower to fix to his lapel. Eighteen minutes to spare, he took the car and headed up into the back woods of the forest, where he knew of a spot to park his car for the well.

Archie was already there, Pongo in the backseat, he leaned against his car with a flashlight in hand. "Bit dark for a midnight wedding…I don't think there's any lighting at the well."

He couldn't be annoyed at the nitpicking. It was impossible. So instead, he answered that it wouldn't be a problem when they arrived, and the two of them began the short hike up to the well.

Another want he could accomplish…setting the mood.

With a sweep of his hands, he covered the well with glowing white candles that even made Archie gasp. "Ah…yes…well…that will work just fine."

Between the candles and the moon, it would indeed work just fine.

Seven minutes to spare.

If he knew Belle, she'd be right on time.

There was time enough to do something more, he knew. Time enough to fulfill another "want," but for the life of him, he couldn't think of anything that would be appropriate. His mind felt hazy. There was a lump that was somehow managing to swell in his throat. Concentration was beginning to feel impossible. But when he heard a branch break at four minutes to go and turned to see her step out of the clearing…

He couldn't think at all.

He could barely breathe looking at her.

Time slowed to a crawl as she walked toward him, a vision in white…in every single literal way he knew of.

It was true. That vision that he'd seen so long ago in the castle when he'd caught her after she'd fallen from the ladder, the vision that produced so many small little glimpses of a future he wasn't sure or hadn't wanted to believe were real…one of those visions had shown him this. Had shown him her. Dressed exactly like that.

On their wedding day.

It hadn't shown him Archie. It hadn't shown him Belle clinging to her father's arm, only her as she made her way to him, eyes fixed and nearly in tears already.

She was gorgeous. And he wasn't sure this was the best idea he'd ever had, or the worst because he'd taken so damn long to get to this place.

"It is my great honor to officiate this most lovely union," Archie began when they were toe to toe, and her father had stepped away. The shock of his voice had him glancing over at him, reminding him that they weren't alone at the moment. His mind seemed to keep forgetting that. It kept blocking out everyone and everything except her and that gaze of hers. "If you'd like to begin, your vows…" Archie prompted, glancing at her first as he realized…

A need that he'd forgotten…his vows.

"Rumpelstiltskin…" she began with a swallow. "This thing we have it's…it's never been easy. I've…I've lost you so many times," she cried, struggling to breathe through her emotions. Oh, he wanted to take her in his arms even then. "I've lost you to…to darkness, to weakness, and-and finally…to death. But now I realized…I realize that I have not spent my life losing you…I've spent my life finding you!"

Beautiful vows. Simple and elegant, just as she was. Just as he had difficulty being, especially when he went into something entirely unplanned and unprepared. How was he supposed to say anything half as good as that?

But then again…

There was nothing he could tell her she didn't already know. What had he said to her in the library? He wanted to make a promise to her that he'd actually keep. What was a vow if not a promise?

"Belle…" he began, doing his best to look at her and go back to that place where Archie and her father didn't exist. The things he wanted to tell her now were things he had only ever uttered to her in the privacy of their bedroom or the back of the shop. He blushed to think others might be witness to it, but that was the point after all. He just needed to block the others out so he could get them out of his mouth. It was just the two of them here at this well. It was the two of them making these promises. "When we met, I wasn't just unloved and unloving. I was an enemy of love. Love had only brought me pain. My walls were up, but you brought them down. You brought me home." He swallowed hard and tried not to be distracted as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You brought life into my life and chased away all the darkness. And I vow to you, I will never forget the distance between what I was and what I am."

That was it…the "want" he had time to provide for her. He wanted to do right by her, wanted to be everything that she wanted him to be. That was a vow, a promise that he wanted to keep. A gift that he could give…plus one other she didn't yet know about.

He glanced at Archie as he pulled the ring out of his pocket, more to let the cricket know he had it than to seek his permission, but he was happy when he nodded all the same. Her jaw dropped as she stared at it, and he reached for her hand to slip it over her finger.

"I owe more to you than I can ever say," he explained, settling it into place and feeling the magic solidify. "How you can see the man behind the monster…I will never know."

"But that monster's gone," she argued with absolute certainty. "And the man beneath him may be flawed…but we all are. And I love you for it," she insisted, squeezing his hands tighter in her own. "Sometimes the best book has the dustiest jacket. And sometimes the best teacup…is chipped!"

A small laugh spread over her face, taking him right back to one of their earliest interactions, when she'd dropped that cup, chipping it forever, and he'd made a not-so-funny joke that she'd still laughed at all the same. It was strange how a moment like that could evolve, the places it could lead to the challenges that would arrive to dismantle it. They'd conquered their demons, climbed their mountains, and come through the other side. And now there was only one thing left he could think to do.

Vows said, ring given, he stepped forward in front of that well, and the few there to witness it, and kissed her, proclaiming to all the world they were now and forever, finally, husband and wife.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 43: A Timely Proposal

Prince Neal.

One minute he'd felt tethered; grounded in love and desire, counting the minutes until he could get up and leave and act on those feelings.

The next, he felt weightless, as if everything that he had keeping him together had just managed to seep out through his skin and left him adrift in a room he didn't recognize or couldn't recognize or didn't want to because…

Because…

Prince Neal.

That was something. It was something.

It was an honor. It was a recognition of everything that his son was, everything that he'd ever wanted to be, every trait of heroism that he'd left in the DNA of his grandson. It was more than just a name; it was a living memory, and yet…

He'd still rather have the real thing.

He'd still rather have his son sitting here with them at this moment.

He'd rather hear them say the babe's name was Leopold. Or James. Or Robert. Or even Grumpy! But for them to choose that name. To hear it was Neal…

Out.

He needed to be out of this place.

It was a delicate mask that he was wearing to shield himself from the trauma of the last few days, and it was threatening to unravel with every eye that he felt turn upon him to stare.

He looked down. He closed his eyes. He tried to shut it out and not feel sick to his stomach and keep the tears inside and the voices-

Fingers weaved through his own and formed a vise around his palm.

Five fingers, one hand, a single pressure point that pulled him back from the depths of space and anchored him into his body once more, barely. There was applause. And one by one, the prickling of skin where he'd felt eyes upon him turned away.

"Take a walk with me?" Belle requested by his side. It was a question and an order all at once, one that he was happy to heed. The pressure on his hand became a pull. He was on his feet when the applause died down, and the din of the crowd returned. He opened his eyes but couldn't bring himself to look up until he realized that she wasn't pulling him to the front door but rather the back door. He didn't care why, just let her lead, let her continue to guide him until-

Belle stopped. Abruptly. He raised his eyes to see her way blocked by none other than David.

"Um…things in the Enchanted Forest got a little…tense," he commented in her direction. "But I want you to know that what we did, we thought it was for the best, but we…I probably could've handled it better, and I want you to know that I am grateful, for you and especially for Neal."

His words felt like the dagger to the heart all over again.

"I…we…we wouldn't be here, in Storybrooke, safe again with Emma and Henry again if it wasn't for Neal so…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry…if I was…less than princely, during the last year."

Condolences. He was offering condolences. But not to him. Not to Neal's father but to the woman he'd been more happily associated with than he had in their brief time of reunion.

"We understood," Belle answered, her words a painful twist. She could speak for him. He could not. "We understood why you felt the way you felt, we just hoped that you understood our side of it too."

We…because they'd been a team.

"We didn't," David admitted sounding almost sad. "Probably not like we thought we did, at least, but…I think I do now. Thank you for that."

Not like they thought they did…because Belle would always know Bae better than anyone else. Even better than his own father because he'd had his chance and given it away. By giving up those memories of Neal, that was the price he'd paid. And now he'd lost them. Left a piece of his son behind ignorantly for Emma to use to get to the past and preserve this one.

Out. He needed out now!

As if she could read her mind, he felt her arm thread through his own and followed the pressure he felt when she pulled him forward. When she first dragged him outside, he had assumed that he'd feel better in the open air, only he didn't. Quickly he realized that he'd traded one small, crowded room for the dead space outside where anyone could be lurking, where anyone could see or hear. As she walked with him, arm in arm, he prayed she was taking him to the shop, or the car or the library, or a shed, anywhere that he could be alone in a room with her and push the world out.

The library then…

He glanced up as she fumbled with keys and opened the door to the library, arguably, intelligently, the closest private space she could have chosen. The second the door was open, he disengaged and headed for another room, into a small space that he quickly scanned to make sure it was empty before he reached out for the closest chair that he could and finally let go of his breath.

It came out as a sob. It was wet and choked. There was nothing dignified or powerful about it. And he didn't care. Wasn't that why he was back here? Alone? Belle was using up her time to light the entire damn library, and he was trying to get a hold of himself so that he could breathe again without being judged. Not that he was sure why that would matter at all after this week, but it did.

It mattered.

Just as much as Neal mattered. Just as much as Baelfire mattered.

His son.

His hero.

Gone.

"Are you all right?" Belle asked the question gently behind him. It was…loaded. It wasn't a question as to whether or not he was okay, it was simply a gentle prod to see if he'd respond, if he was ready for her or still needed some time on his own.

Honestly, he wasn't sure he was ready for her presence, wasn't sure that he was ready to hear anything that she'd have to say to him about what he'd missed. But he sure as hell wasn't ready to be without her, so he nodded quietly in response. He focused on his breath. Counted his inhales and exhales, smelled the lemon and roses, the chair he was hunched over.

"I didn't expect…"

"Neither did I," she added before he could complete his excuse.

He wasn't angry. He couldn't be angry. But he couldn't help but wish that the former King and Queen had considered their audience a bit more. A warning or a hint might have been better received from him. This felt more like a punch to the gut than the honor he was sure they'd intended.

"But they're right…" he heard Belle mutter behind him as the sound of footsteps drew closer to the place he was. She didn't touch him when she got to the table he stood by, rather placed her hands beside his own so he'd know she was there when he was ready. "He is a hero. It's an honor. I think he'd realize that. I think he'd be happy about it."

He nodded even though every word was a reminder. She would know. He would always have to wonder. There was a part of him that hated that, a part of him that hated feeling like Zelena must have felt about Regina, only about Belle, but he did his best to shove it down as he met her gaze.

"I think you spent more time with him since I found him than I did," he confessed, replaying memories in his head of him and Neal on the beach in Neverland, of the pair of them on Hook's ship, talking as they sailed back to Storybrooke, his hand in his own offering support as he lay dying. It's okay, Papa…don't fight it.

The only words from the experience he'd allowed himself to keep…

Too overwhelmed to look in her direction, he had to turn away. This was normal, this rage he felt. It was just grief. It would pass. One day it would pass. And when it did, every last fact she held in her mind of him would be like gold to him. He'd mine it and save it until he could be just as certain as she was about who his son was, but until that day came…what he wouldn't give for a time portal to jump forward into the future.

The sound of Belle sniffling called to him in a way that Baelfire couldn't compete with. He turned his attention back to her, his instinct to protect and guard and fix, only to see her jump up onto the table he'd chosen to hover over.

"He was a good man, Rumple," she cried. "He wasn't perfect, he had his flaws, but he was loyal to those that gained his respect. Your son was good, and I don't know what I would have done without him. He took care of me when there was no one else to do it, when I couldn't even bring myself to do it. He gave me hope when I had nothing to believe in. He gave me you. And that is a debt that I will never be able to repay.

"And he did love you. He loved you so much more than he wanted to admit sometimes. But it was good and pure and layered. He was one of the best people I've ever known, and I will always miss him, but I'll also always be thankful for him. Always."

Her voice squeaked out the last word before she sniffled again and took a rattling breath that told him she was struggling to hold herself in just as much as he was. But Belle…she wouldn't do that unless she felt that she had to. She wouldn't hold back unless she was afraid that her reaction would hurt him. She was mourning, but the fact that she was trying not to show it…

The jealousy, the distance between them, the anger…it was stupid. It might have been a reaction to grief, but that didn't make it any less stupid than he knew it was. She belonged in his arms as they grieved together, not with their backs to one another, suffering in silence. Grief was painful and isolating, but a grief shared between two people, at least, wasn't as lonely.

As quickly as he could manage, despite the fact that his legs felt more like jelly than flesh and bone, he moved to stand before the place where she sat. He swallowed hard as he lifted his gaze to her, let himself take in the red-rimmed eyes and the lines around her mouth, trying so hard to smile for him when all she evidently wanted to do was burst into tears.

She was the key. Belle was the key to everything. She was the one who knew his son best, someone he'd loved just as much as any family. She was his rescuer and his anchor. She was salvation. She was his fiancé.

Only the problem was that he didn't want her to be.

He wanted her to be his wife.

And suddenly, the thought of enduring another day, another emergency, planning endlessly for something he didn't really care about when time was ticking away…it felt impossible. And wasteful. And wrong.

He took a deep breath as his hands sought out her own.

There was an idea forming in the back of his mind, a wild one, and he hadn't a clue how responsive she'd be to it because they'd never discussed it before. In a way, it had him feeling far more nervous than asking her to marry him because he didn't know how she'd feel about it. But if he didn't ask her, or at least try to ask her…he felt as though that might be a betrayal to his son's memory.

But how to ask her?

Carefully he raised her hands to his mouth and kissed each palm, giving himself plenty of time to assess and back out. But courage had suddenly sprung from a leak somewhere in his heart, a place where a dark, clawed creature had once lived. He wasn't going to back down.

He didn't bother to hide the tears in his eyes as he glanced back up and kissed her forehead. One more breath, and then…

"Belle…marry me?"

The smile she'd been trying to force flashed onto her face in an instant out of amusement. "You already asked me that-"

"No, no…" he shook his head, happy for a bit of playfulness to bring them out of their sorrow. "Marry me…now."

It took a second for the words to register, for the idea he was suggesting to truly resonate, and when they did, she sat back and stared at him wide-eyed. "Now?" she questioned, sounding breathless.

"Now…" he confirmed. "Tonight."

"But…but why? Why now? Why so suddenly-"

"I don't want to wait," he interjected before she could think of any more reasons why not. There were dozens of reasons why they shouldn't, he recognized that. But he wanted to instead think of the reasons they should. They might not outnumber the "why nots," but they certainly outweighed them.

"Every time we're together, something happens that threatens to tear us apart and my son…Baelfire didn't sacrifice his life, didn't give us this opportunity so we could squander it by waiting longer than necessary." He moved her hands between his own, interlacing their fingers tightly. "I love you," he declared. "I want to marry you. I'm ready now. If you are too, then-"

"Yes!" she exclaimed before he could reach the end of his argument. Her smile grew as her head bounced up and down with an eagerness that made his stomach turn over out of excitement. Her reaction wasn't just one of enthusiasm; it was confidence. She was just as sure, just as ready as he was. "Yes," she answered again, then leaned forward and planted her mouth on his own.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 42: The Good Old Days

"When we have some time, we should probably talk about what happened while I was away," he stated quickly before he could lose the momentum. "I want to know all about the books you used and the spells you worked and…"

Having said his peace, the world felt open to him again. His senses took in what he'd denied as he'd talked with Belle, and he became aware that Emma was in the room, sitting in a booth were her parents, the baby, and Henry. That wasn't out of the ordinary, at least not enough to attract his attention. What was out of the ordinary was how animated and chatty she suddenly was. Emma, like him, was usually a reserved individual, to see her smiling and talking with such vibrancy made him forget what he'd been saying, what he'd been doing, and listen in. And he wasn't the only one.

The story that she was telling was familiar, in a way. To the crowd of people who happened to eavesdrop on her tale, they stopped and listened with interest. He, on the other hand, listened in horror. Perhaps Belle was right, maybe Emma was the one that he should have been worried about because the tale she spun certainly suggested it.

Emma Swan had gone through the time portal after all. She was the one that had caused it to flash as she'd gone back in time. To the Enchanted Forest. To their time.

And worse…she'd run into them. All of them.

He couldn't have stopped listening if he'd tried. He tuned into her just the same as everyone in the diner did when they heard what she was saying, but while he could tell they thought it was whimsical and cute even, he was left shuddering at the potential for the devastation she'd seemingly narrowly escaped from.

Emma, and Hook, much to his displeasure, had landed not just in any random day in the Enchanted Forest, but rather they'd dropped into the precise time that her parents had met each other. She'd hidden herself to watch the encounter, but by simply stepping on a branch interrupted the story she'd already known. The story she'd known…but none of them did…not anymore. Not anymore, because that had been what he'd been so afraid of in the first place. What she called the "original tale" of her parents' meeting was gone, stripped from the history books in the most literal way it could in the Realm Without Magic. The Storybook Henry had, the one that he'd heard of but never seen, Emma was in it. She used the word "now" when she discovered the pictures of her. But Henry informed that those pictures had always been there, that maybe she'd just never noticed before. Emma shook her head. She insisted that the story she'd known before her journey was not the story that was written now.

He'd spoken up. Reminded Emma of exactly what he'd informed her father of when they'd returned earlier, that so long as they'd tied up all their lose ends, then the only one with two memories would be Emma herself. Things would continue to be normal for the rest of them and she alone would be able to tell the story of what the old past had looked like before her misadventure. The old tale, the one only Emma knew she recounted now, as if to prove that the memories they all had were in fact different than before. The journey she'd been on was new to Emma. Old to them. Or rather, all except him.

The tale she weaved of her time with Hook was something that was entirely new to him. And he knew why. Somewhere, saved in the trunk of Chronicles for his own curiosities, was a letter he'd once found that he'd written himself. He had no memory of writing that letter, which was obviously the reason he'd likely written it. The letter was a warning that he'd found after turning up in his old castle vault with no memory as to how or why he'd gotten there, claiming that he himself had stripped his memories away for good reason. He'd been warned not to try and retrieve those memories and never had because why would he go against his own good advice, especially when there had been work to do and so much seemed to have happened in the time that he'd taken away.

Within the letter, he'd included a list of things that he'd needed to know about the days he'd chosen to remove from his mind. Something about cleaning up the downstairs, a warning about Belle that he'd never truly figured out, and two cryptic points, the first that stated Regina would likely be angry when they next met again because Snow White had managed to evade execution and capture. The second was an assurance that Snow White and David had met and were "well on their way" to True Love.

He'd investigated a little in the days after, not to the extent that he normally would have because of that warning, but just enough to know what had happened. That was the story Emma regaled her parents with now. In Emma's version of the "original story," Snow White robbed David, taking his mother's wedding ring, the same one currently on Snow White's finger, David caught Snow White, and the pair of them began to fall in love as they sought to return it to David after Snow had sold it off.

It sounded simple, much simpler than Emma having to arrange it all when she'd stepped on a branch before Snow could attack the prince's caravan and prevented her from robbing him in the first place. Now the tale involved a ball, Snow White's capture, an attempted execution by Regina, some ironic life-saving Black Fairy dust. The tale also included at least one thing they'd changed, a person they'd brought back from the past. Marion, Robin Hood's formerly dead wife. At first he'd been nervous about that fact but when she mentioned that he and Emma had run into him, that he'd known they had plans to take Marion and let them leave with her, he realized it wasn't quite the problem he worried it might be. At least not for him. Regina later, perhaps. But not for him. He trusted his past self, even if he couldn't for the life of him remember...

There were at least two encounters with him that they mentioned. An early one in their adventure in which they'd come to the castle and another in which he'd attempted to trap them in the vault Belle had ironically mentioned just that morning in order to preserve the past before they'd figured out a way to open the portal and get home, with Marian. Neither of these he remembered. Which didn't shock him because not remembering would have been the point. Even back then he would have recognized how dangerous the magic they were working with was. Even then he'd have sought to avoid a catastrophe, even if he didn't know what, exactly, he was preserving.

"Do you remember?" Belle asked quietly as Emma spoke. "Does any of what they're saying sound familiar?"

"No," he confirmed. "Though memory potions are a particular specialty of mine. If they'd told me where they were from that would have been my first instinct…to preserve the future. Even if it was Hook's…" he growled glancing around for the enemy who seemed to be growing even closer to the Savior in his son's absence. He couldn't say that he was particularly fond of that outcome. And if they'd told him back then, he might not have helped them on principle. But then again…they had mentioned something about that. In their first meeting with him, Hook had apparently explained that they'd buried the hatchet, a likely lie they'd told just to manipulate them. They'd also said that Belle at interrupted…he wondered, had he given her the potion he'd taken?

"What about you?" he questioned. "She said you were there, too."

A blush rose on her cheeks as she smiled almost demurely. "What I remember about it probably isn't what you'd expect."

Well…with a reaction like that, now he had to know! He sat back, unwilling to break his gaze from her own, which only made her blush deepen.

"I remember the two strangers because the girl, Emma, apparently, knew my name. It was the first time in months that anyone besides you or Robin Hood knew my name. But even then, it wasn't them that I remember most about that day, in fact, I barely remember Hook being there or Emma's face because the person I remember most was you.

"The conversation we had when they arrived-they knew my name, and I thought that meant they knew me, but they only said you told them about me, which of course, you denied fervently. Knowing what I know now, it was probably true, it would have explained your shock, of course, but I couldn't stop thinking…"

She shook her head, her face a lovely shade of pink that miraculously matched the green she'd decided to wear that day. He'd never wanted to kiss her more.

"I told you…" she finally smiled. "I was taken with you long before I ever knew I was. Just the thought that you'd been talking about me made me feel…" Again she shook her head, as if she couldn't quite find the words for what he suspected was a flutter in her belly he'd felt all too often in those days that should have been their first hints, but they'd both ignored out of ignorance or stubbornness or denial.

"Their arrival and departure was quick, Rumple, but you were the one I remember then. I was excited you'd come back early, that we'd have our tea together like always, and dinner, and even if I didn't want to admit it, when you moved into our room soon after and began working on a potion, maybe the memory potion as you suspect…I was happy when you were around, even if I didn't know it."

Working in the Great Room…yes, now that he thought about it, that was the first thing the note he'd written to himself had said. The Great Room would need cleaned up, and he'd moved the furniture for Belle. She would never have come to his tower without him asking her to, which he never would have, so he'd brought himself to her. He'd done that before, several times during her stay, actually. But he'd never known that this time…

And so, it all fell into place. Even in some strange way the comment he'd found on the note that had perplexed and scared him and even at one time had him convinced that he needed to send her away. "Regarding Belle, you must immediately…"

The line had been unfinished. What had Emma told him?

What did it matter now?

"I wouldn't have had any reason to be working in that room, other than to be close to you," he admitted, feeling his smile grow as she blushed again. "Even if I can't remember it, I know that whatever excuse I would have come up with for doing it would have been a lie. You weren't the only one to feel it and not understand it," he whispered. "I have always liked being close to you. It's soothing."

Which was probably why he had the sudden and unexplainable urge to take her by the hand and lead her out of this place, far away from here, where they could be alone together, where he could put this ring on her finger, cover her in kisses, bury himself deep into her, and just enjoy the feeling of being alone in a room with her and no one else. If he had to go back in time, those early days in the castle might be where he would take himself, just to relive the feeling of falling all over again and savor it instead of taking it for granted. But in the absence of a Time Portal, he'd do his best to recreate those days for them now, only it would be better. This time he'd cherish every second.

"Excuse me!" David's voice cut through the crowd before he could lean over and ask her if she wanted to leave as much as he did. "If I could have everyone's attention just for a moment."

Later. They'd go home later. After what they'd come here for.

"Uh, this Coronation Ceremony is something we've looked forward to for a long time. The arrival of our new son has been the cause of great joy for our family…" David explained, moving back to Mary Margaret, who was beaming ear to ear…the same smile her daughter and their grandson shared. "And we hope you can share in it as we name him for a hero, someone who saved every one of us, who we loved, and he loved back."

David turned his attention, not just his gaze, to Mary Margaret. "People of Storybrooke," she picked up perfectly on cue. "It is our great joy to introduce you to our son: Prince Neal."

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 41: Precious Time

Time was a fascinating thing.

It was precise. It was perfect. It was unyielding. The passage of time was unforgiving and cruel in the best of times and anchoring and predictable in the worst of times.

But the perception of time was ambiguous. It was imperfect and fluid. When a deadline or a dreaded event was barreling toward an individual, entire days and nights felt like they could pass by in the blink of an eye, leaving someone unprepared and agitated. In moments of panic or anticipation, time slowed; seconds turned into hours, and hours could feel like days, and the effect of that slowed time was exhaustion.

The space between his death and the coronation ceremony at Granny's Diner had been a little more than a year. And yet, between Zelena and the Underworld, between Belle and Neal and looking at how tall his grandson was…he felt as though he'd missed several lifetimes.

He was developing a list of questions in his head, questions that he still wasn't quite sure he wanted the answers to because he feared they'd be a dagger to his heart all over again. But they were questions he knew he'd eventually need the answers to aside from wanting them.

Belle knew about magic. That was what struck him the most about the interaction they'd had on the patio. Of course, being from Mist Haven, she had always "known" about magic, but the knowledge she'd demonstrated in front of him just now was more than a common man's understanding. She'd not only been able to cite magical theory she'd been able to apply it in a practical way. Regina hadn't even been able to do that properly!

And yes, when he'd sent her those messages during his captivity, he'd always hoped that she'd explore it in a serious way for his own advantage, and yes, he knew just how smart she was. But he hadn't expected that outcome. He hadn't expected her to be able to use magical theory in practice as she just had. And moreover, he hadn't expected the others to look to her for questions of magical interpretation and accept her answers as easily as they had. They trusted her. Even Regina had accepted her information as fact. The implications of that were far greater than he could ever imagine, and now he found himself wanting more answers.

He wanted to know much she knew. He wanted to know everything about what she'd been through while he was away. He wanted to understand why there was magic missing from his shop and how she'd faired with the spells or potions she'd enacted, not to mention how she'd managed them when he could still smell not a single drop of magical blood in her.

He wanted to know. And yet he didn't. He didn't for fear that one conversation about what he'd missed might lead into others that he wasn't yet ready to have concerning her time in the Enchanted Forest…with Neal.

Most of the questions he was forming in his mind had to do with Neal.

He knew some things. He'd done his best to completely eradicate Neal's memories from his head, going so far as to throw away memories of memories that he had, but he knew he hadn't gotten them all. And that impression he'd felt in the aftermath of the purge...that impression remained. He knew that his son had grown to love Belle in the time they were apart; not just "like" her as one would a friend, though he certainly did. He'd loved her as though she were family. He knew that he'd grown to feel as though she loved him, which wasn't a revelation that shocked him as it had Neal, but it left him with the knowledge that there was a story there, something more that he once had the opportunity to observe first hand but was no longer privy to by his own choice. The curiosity inside of him yearned for that story, for every last detail of it. But the pain that rose in his chest every time he imagined Belle and Neal together in the Enchanted Forest, being a family without him, wouldn't allow him to ask those questions. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And he wasn't sure if he was prepared to find that acceptable yet.

Time was a fascinating thing.

When David had left them standing on the patio, it had been in fear of what Emma might have gotten herself into. By the time he and Belle made it up the stairs and into the diner, David was all smiles. A sense of relief was palpable in the room as David came toward them, phone in hand.

"She texted!" he exclaimed. "She texted Mary Margaret to let her know that she was all right and coming back. We panicked for nothing!"

Had they? The Time Portal had been opened, and now it was closed. If it had flashed as Belle suggested, then the implication of that was that someone had gone through and returned. If not Emma, then who? What had they changed? Where had they gone? How could he even begin to clean up some of the mess that he'd made?

He stood by what he'd always proclaimed to Zelena, that time wasn't something that should be poked or prodded or experimented with. He could go to the farmhouse; he likely would go to burn the damn thing to the ground and ensure that any notes Zelena had would be destroyed and no one would ever figure out what she had done or use it again. But he was always entirely aware that the recipe was already in the worst sort of hands it could be.

His.

While he might be dedicated, in this moment, to not altering or playing with the passage of time, that didn't mean that he always would be. It also didn't mean that somewhere down the line, another Dark One wouldn't be. And now they'd have the secret of it in his mind. And when his voice in their head was naught but a memory incapable of disobeying orders, what kind of damage could that cause in the long run? What damage might it already have caused?

He was thrown from his thoughts by Belle. From the moment they'd come in, he'd taken a spot close to the window where he could be on the lookout for that beam of light, and she'd gone off to enjoy the party, he assumed, as he sat there like a sentry. But now she was before him, moving a chair to sit beside him. He did his best to smile, to ground himself in her eyes as they shifted position to be as close as they could, but he could see that his acting was nothing in her eyes.

"Something is wrong," she assumed merely from one look.

"Not any more than usual," he suggested, not entirely sure if that was true or not. This was Storybrooke, there was always something brewing. But a Time Portal was potentially more than just "something."

"Are you worried? About-about Emma? Because David said she was fine…"

Yes. Yes, he was worried about Emma, about what might have happened when their backs were turned, about who might have altered the little time he might have left if he couldn't figure out how to get more red into his heart soon…it was everything. And nothing. And more.

"No," he answered honestly. "I trust what you saw. And even if she did go through, I can't think of a more suitable candidate, though that still leaves me with little guarantee that everything will turn out as it should…that it already has."

Her brows furrowed as she looked him over, her eyes suddenly searching his face suspiciously. He felt the hairs on his arms raise under her quizzical stare and realized…she sensed it. She sensed his lies.

"What aren't you telling me?" she finally breathed.

He fought back the sigh of relief. So much. There was so much he wasn't telling her, just as there was so much she wasn't telling him because he hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask the questions yet. She sensed his lies, but couldn't sense which lie she was detecting. And, at the heart of it all…

"I don't like being afraid that we might lose each other again," he admitted quietly, keeping his voice at a whisper so that his weakness might not be spoken aloud. The ring in his pocket was burning a hole against his leg, begging him to take it out and give it to her now before it was too late. They'd had one near miss just now; he couldn't afford to wait. "I don't like thinking that at any second Emma or anyone could have changed one thing in the slightest, and we might never-"

"We'd have found each other," she interrupted with confidence. "One way or another, we'd rescue each other just like we always do."

Did they? Or was their love a concoction of a very particular series of events that could unravel all too easily if a single thread was pulled? Sometimes he wondered…

"And without the cold of the mountains to keep you with me, without a deal-"

"We'd still end up here," his persistent optimist insisted. But when he opened his mouth to argue, he watched as her attention went to something outside, and a smile stretched across her face. "And you don't have to worry about Emma…she's back!"

"I never was," he corrected before she could rush off to join the others in greeting her. He knew he should let her do that, he knew he should talk to Emma, and yet all he wanted and needed at this time was to keep talking to her. Something she must have sensed because she immediately settled back into her seat and looked at him in a way that told him he had her undivided attention.

"Then what-"

"You," he interrupted before she could finish that question. It was a simplistic answer that shocked even him but one that he found he couldn't argue with because that was simply what it came down to. With Neal gone and Henry growing into a young man every day, what worried him most about the future, and the past, in this present moment, was her.

He leaned forward and took her hand in his own. "The only one I will constantly and eternally worry about-is you."

She leaned in close as well, squeezing his fingers between her own. "You can't save me from everything," she whispered just as quietly as he'd been. "You can't keep me from rushing off and wanting to help people."

He knew that. But then she also needed to know that she couldn't keep him from being who he was any more than he could stop her from being who she was. He'd learned that lesson unwillingly, perhaps it was time she swallow it too.

"You won't stop me from trying to keep you safe. No more than I can stop you from being the beautiful soul you are," he concluded, releasing her hand and leaning back in his chair before she could offer a rebuttal.

There was no rebuttal that she could ever offer that was going to change his opinion on this. He was going to go to the ends of the earth to protect her from as much as he possibly could. Even if that meant protecting her from herself. Even if it meant protecting her from him. Time was a fascinating thing, and if Nimue was right, if his days as this person were numbered, then he was going to do everything humanly and magically possible to live every last day to the fullest by her side.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 40: The Theory of Time Travel

David left Emma a message when she didn't pick up, giving her the summary of their conversation. He listened with secret pride as David told her that Zelena had killed herself during the night, and, with her magic freed, she'd somehow managed to trigger the time portal. David also mentioned something about her being in the middle of a difficult decision that he'd have to ask Belle about later, before he hung up, leaving them all to hope that the town Savior who never seemed to be able to keep her nose out of anyone's business for better or worse, kept her nose out of this.

Silently he and Belle drove back to town. She kept her eyes on the bright beam in the sky the portal made, and he kept his eyes on the road all the while, his mind did mental gymnastics, swinging wildly from one thought to another.

He'd gotten away with it!

But how had Zelena managed to open the time portal without her magic?

Why did he care when his plan had gone so smoothly? When they'd asked him all the right questions, and Belle had backed him up in all the right ways?!

How could he not care? There was new magic in the world, happening right in front of him. Yes, he'd told the others they shouldn't go near it, but that didn't stop him from wanting to go near it.

And none of this stopped him from wanting to continue carrying out his plans, from giving the real dagger back to Belle and hiding it together now that everything had gone according to plan.

Unlike the time portal, which had not gone according to plan.

What would it be like going back in time? What would the consequences be, would they even notice if there were consequences? Or would anyone who went through it simply be stuck in another time? He felt like he needed to spend the night reading up on his time travel theories, checking his books, and stuffing his head full of all the knowledge he'd been so desperate for when Zelena had held him prisoner.

But he also desperately wanted to give Belle his ring. Especially at a time like this.

"Still nothing from Emma," David said, looking very clearly distraught when they finally found themselves back at Granny's. Though he noted that David immediately pushed a button on his phone and held it up to his ear, yet another attempt to get in touch with Emma.

"I'm sure she's fine," Regina reasoned. "Hook is with her…"

But he noted as she tried to calm the King that even he had to admit the Savior going missing as all of this was happening was suspicious. Still…he'd have to check his books, but when it came to Emma, the fact that they could still see the beam of light in the sky seemed like a good thing. He couldn't understand how, but if the theory was correct that Zelena's magic had somehow opened the portal, then she'd crafted the magic out of desire. It wouldn't close unless it got what it wanted. So as long as it was open-

"Rumple!" Belle screeched beside him, looking up at the sky. He felt his insides twist as he followed her gaze, and it settled over the beam of light. But then-

It was gone. As if it was taunting him, the damn thing winked out of existence just as Zelena had. And if the theory he was working through was correct, that was bad…potentially very bad. He looked around. Was anything different? Did anything feel different? Would he even know if it was?! Unlikely.

"It's gone," David observed beside them with relief in his tone. Ignorance truly was bliss, he supposed.

"Gone for good?" Robin Hood questioned beside Regina.

"Well, some magic can run out once the objects being used to create it run dry," Regina theorized incorrectly. "It's possible whatever sparked it to life simply ran out of magic."

"Not this spell," Belle interrupted before he could correct her, making him stare at her in utter amazement as she went on. "The ingredients Zelena used for her spell, they were symbolic, none of them contained magic. That was what she needed the baby for, to enhance her own. This magic is coming from Zelena, it's her magic fueling it unreservedly. It won't 'dry up.' At least not any time soon, not without something to contain it."

He felt the gaze of everyone in the circle move from her to him, looking for confirmation or explanation, but…he couldn't say it better than she already had. And fuck, now that the thing was gone, it made him want to get her home and into bed as soon as possible.

"She's right," he assured them, swallowing hard on his amazement and trying to ignore the way she blushed. How soon could they wrap this up? "That portal would only close if it got what it wanted, if it took someone with it."

"Emma?" Regina questioned, looking at David. "Do you think she could have gone through?"

"It's possible," he answered for him. "But even if she didn't, someone did."

And if they had, then they'd come back…they'd come back…oh, what was it his books said? It had been ages since he concerned himself with the theory of time portals! What was the answer if someone had gone back?!

"What could that mean?" Belle questioned. "For us?"

He wished he could remember, but he knew someone who likely would.

Talk! He ordered of the one Dark One in his head who had attempted Time Travel, the only one who seemed to think that Zelena's Time Travel Spell had been valid. He let his head fill with those whispers, let his knowledge become his own…

"It means that if that person isn't careful, our present, their future, could begin to change quite drastically. But it all depends on how far back they actually went and where," he answered, aware that it was rather generic.

Can't you do any better than that?!

"Dammit, she's still not answering!" David shouted angrily, pulling the phone free from his ear and rubbing his forehead as though he was getting a headache. "Where and when they went…is there any way to determine that?"

"No," he answered with a huff. What part of this wasn't clear to the King? "This is new magic, never before done! That portal could have carried someone back in time centuries or back to last week. They could have ended up in Storybrooke, or the Enchanted Forest, or Neverland-"

He could have gone on, but Belle's grip on his arm tightened suddenly, reigning him in. Right…something useful. What did he know that was useful? He let out a sigh as he tried to calm himself down, remembering that what he knew was little better than what they knew as well.

"It all depends upon what the individual was focused on at the time; their thoughts, their emotions, their desires, in many ways, the intent of the individual using the portal is the final requirement."

David let out an unhappy huff and stared into the distance, in the direction the portal had been opened in. A few moments later, he turned back. "Please," he begged. "Is there anything that we can do?"

Belle's grip on his arm held him solid, reminding him to be gentle. A new chapter. A new him. Empathy was a muscle he had not worked in a very long time, but...he could be sympathetic to a man who might have lost his child.

"I'm sorry, but it can't be done."

"All right," Regina drawled next to them. "There's nothing that can be done, we know the worst of what could happen, what's the best-case scenario?"

Immediately the Dark One in his mind started talking again. On that subject, he had a lot to say.

"They come back," he parroted, finding the information he was getting more than a little shocking. It just sounded…too easy. "If they could figure out how to recreate the portal and open it wherever they are, with the intention to return home, changing nothing, then they'd return only moments after they left because that was as far as they knew their future existed."

But seeing as how the portal was still closed…

"It flashed!" Belle exclaimed next to him suddenly, a look of wild amazement on her face. "It flashed when I pointed it out to you! It was there, and then it wasn't, I pointed, and by the time you turned around, it was back again before it disappeared completely."

"Belle," David asked, stepping forward eagerly. "Are you sure?"

She swallowed nervously, but he didn't need to see her nod to know it was the truth. Her story checked out. She had called their attention to it just before it had disappeared. As far as he knew, she wasn't a Seer, there was no way she'd have known that it would disappear and get them all to look just in time. But the Dark One inside his head was confirming that if a return occurred, then it would be quick. "A flash," just as she'd described.

"I saw it," she stated confidently, making David turn to him with wide eyes.

"Could that have been it? A return?"

"Yes," he answered, glancing over at her and wondering where in the hell he was ever going to get the words to tell her how fucking proud she made him.

"Then we don't have anything to worry about," Robin Hood concluded. "If anything too drastic had been changed, we'd know, wouldn't we? We'd have two sets of memories."

"Oh, quite the opposite," he chuckled as the voice in his head laughed at what even he knew was a foolish thought. "You'd have no memory of anything being changed at all because the past you had before no longer existed, and that is if there was any interaction."

Which was why he found time travel so terrifying and blasphemous in the first place. For all he knew, he'd fallen madly in love with Margery, granted her eternal life, and had been living happily with her and their children, Baelfire included, until that beam of light opened, and he'd lived his life with Belle. Everything he had in his head seemed to be in one piece, but that was how it would work. If anything like that had ever happened, he'd never know. All he knew was the woman next to him and his son dead in the ground somewhere.

"All right, let's not panic," David sighed, looking to his phone despite the fact that he felt certain no one was in a panic but maybe him. "Someone went through, someone came back, and for now, the portal is closed. I don't know how, I don't know why, but so long as it's shut, there is nothing to worry about, right? No reason to believe that Emma, or anyone else, for that matter, is missing?"

The voice in his head contradicted that. Apparently, there was plenty to worry about and a lot that could go wrong. Assuming that the best-case scenario had occurred when it seemed like a one-in-a-million shot was a bold thing to do. But given the King's eternal optimism…

"For now, there is no reason to believe that your daughter is missing," he answered carefully. Just like there was no reason to believe that she wasn't missing. Belle's grip on him tightened, and one look at her told him that she knew exactly what game he'd played with his words, but she kept it to herself.

"Great…I'll get Henry to call Emma. She'll answer for him," David concluded before turning back to the steps and heading into the diner to meet his wife. It left all of them standing on the patio staring at each other, the words no one wanted to say hanging in the air.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 39: Working the Accusation

"Let's keep walking," he urged, pressing against her back even as he struggled to tear his gaze from it. If it was Zelena's time portal, and he was having a difficult time convincing himself it wasn't, then he didn't want Belle out here while it was open. And how to close it…

"But I don't understand," she complained as he moved her around Emma and Hook to get her inside the diner. "What is it?"

"What is that?" Henry echoed the second he got her safe into the diner. So, it wasn't just him who had noticed. Given this town, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"That…is a problem," he answered as David crept closer to get a look of his own. "That light is from Zelena's time portal…it's open."

"How is that possible?" Belle asked, looking at him as if he had the answers when he couldn't even begin to fathom…

He glanced out the window, looking at it again, trying to find an alternative to prove him wrong, that it wasn't the portal. But somehow, he knew it was. The direction it was located, the power it generated, the color of it, and the lack of familiarity he had with it…it was the Time Portal.

The portal had been working. He was loathed to admit that, but it had been working when Zelena had everything she needed to open it. But one of those things she needed was the Charming's child, a child of True Love. And he could see the babe in his mother's arms here! So either someone who knew about Zelena's plan, knew that she'd failed, also had powerful magic and access to a child of True Love, had decided to pick up where Zelena left off or…or…

He couldn't think of an alternative. But he knew the chances of that theory panning out were so small it didn't even bear a second thought. Which meant that in answer to Belle's question…

"I have no idea," he breathed uneasily. It was an honest answer. And he hated it.

"Well…" David sighed suddenly, moving around them to grab his jacket off the hook. "I know exactly who I'm going to ask about it. You left Zelena in the jail?" he questioned, glancing at Regina.

"Yes, but-"

David was out the door before she could finish her sentence, and awareness shot through him as Mary Margaret called after her husband and Regina flew out of her seat.

"I've got him. Henry, stay here!" she ordered as she and Robin Hood followed the prince out the door. The jail. They were going to the jail. To ask Zelena about the Time Portal. Which meant they hadn't yet gone there today, and when they arrived, they'd find-

"We should go too," Belle urged, moving toward them.

He only just barely managed to grab her hand and stop her before she could leave. No, he wasn't sure that was the greatest idea given the circumstances. But Belle…

"We can talk outside," she urged, misinterpreting his silence and pulling him out the door before he could stop her. "We should go," she insisted again once they were outside.

"Let them handle it," he countered, digging his heels in and stopping her.

Belle turned to face him. She glanced at the others already piling into a car to go to the jail and then at him again before dragging him forward once more. She was guiding him in the direction of their car.

"Rumple…between all the research I did and everything you know about Zelena's plan, they might need us to put this together, to figure out why this happened…you don't have to go, I won't make you, but I am going to help them. Please, come with me," she begged. "No one knows more about this than you! I'll be with you the entire time, I promise I won't leave your side."

His choice…she wouldn't leave his side because…because she thought that what was holding him back was the possibility of facing Zelena again. And he'd love to use that to his advantage. Every fiber of his being was screaming that this was where his plan would fall apart, and he needed to run and be far away from the scene of the crime.

But given Belle's determination to be there and given the nature of the people she'd be with…if she was going to go play hero with wild, untested magic, he sure as hell wasn't going to let her do it alone. He'd planned for this, known that eventually Zelena would be discovered missing and he'd be the first suspect. Sometimes it was better to face those accusations head-on and get them over with than run from them. And after what he'd endured, if he could use his discomfort to his advantage, then he may as well.

Besides, it was "wild and untested magic," and he was curious as hell to figure out what he could so they could close that damn portal before someone got hurt, died…or worse.

Against his instinct, he unlocked the door to the car to let Belle in and drove them to the prison. They stayed quiet on the short ride there, and he knew he was dragging his feet like a man headed to his own execution when they arrived just behind the others, but they filed into the jail one after the other only to catch David exclaim "Zelena…she's gone!"

He felt Belle tense beside him as they moved into the room he'd come to in secret last night, and they were met with exactly what he'd expected. An empty jail cell where the Wicked Witch of the West had once been.

"No!" Regina balked. "She was here when I left her!"

"Well, if-if she escaped, that would explain the time portal," Belle theorized with a shake in her voice.

"Impossible," Regina snapped. "Without her pendent she's powerless! How could she have escaped, let alone open a time portal without magic!"

Not to mention a missing ingredient, which was what he was truly interested in.

"Unless you did something to her!"

At the suggestion of an accusation, he tuned himself into the conversation at hand to find Regina's eyes on him. She suspected him, just as he'd thought they would. But he'd planned for this and managed to keep every muscle in his body, right down to his heart, in his control and awareness as he navigated these waters quickly enough to get to the bottom of the real problem at hand, which was currently an open door to an unknown past!

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but no," he answered. Yet every single eye, including those of Belle, lingered accusingly on him. He didn't blame her for that, given their history. And, frankly, seeing as how he actually had killed Zelena and was about to use Belle as his alibi, he couldn't say her suspicion was wrong or unwarranted either. "Well, even if I wanted to, Belle has my dagger! She would certainly curb any homicidal tendencies."

A brief flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she realized the merit of what he was saying. "It's true," she exclaimed to the others.

"Well, if she escaped, let's find out how…" David muttered, looking at a television screen he'd barely taken note of…until now.

Security cameras. His gaze was suddenly drawn to one pointed directly at the jail cell, and suddenly he was beginning to think that perhaps the fates had wanted him to kill Zelena and get away with it just as much as he did. Perhaps that was part of their plan after helping Orpheus. But whatever the reason, he was suddenly glad Belle had convinced him to come, if only for this purpose. He'd slipped up. But it wasn't too late to fix it.

"Wonderful…" he muttered as they all gathered closer to the screen. Belle glanced back at him when he didn't move closer. He did his best to ignore the questions in her gaze, to not hold them against her especially considering what he was guilty of. He just wanted to put this all to rest so they could fix their present and leave the past behind, literally.

She looked back just as Zelena came onto the black-and-white screen, pacing like a tiger in a cage. The sight of it nearly made him ecstatic until he realized that if they went much further…

He'd never manipulated technology before, not like this, but he willed it now, sent his magic into that video screen, replacing what had happened with a new image in his head.

"What was that?" Regina questioned. "What just happened?"

A miracle. He'd never thought he'd be more grateful for the fact that Regina's ability to sense his magic was drastically less impressive than her sister's, but he was now. Because when the video on the screen began to warp with his magic, she bought David's excuse of needing an upgrade hook, line, and sinker.

As soon as this was over, he would be happy to personally pay for that upgrade.

"Oh, here we go!" David stated suddenly. The picture cleared as he withdrew his magic. And it showed them exactly what he wanted them to see. Zelena pressed up against the wall, right where she'd been when she died but this time, utterly alone. They watched as she raised her hand and transformed herself into that same statue of porcelain she'd transformed into the night before, then splintered, fractured, and crumbled into a pile of dust…just as she had last night.

The best way to lie was always to stick closest to the truth. They'd seen close to exactly what had happened, just without him as the catalyst for it.

"Well, it seems her great escape was of a more permanent nature," he suggested with just the right amount of irritation in his voice. "I won't ask for an apology."

"She must have had just enough residual magic to do herself in," Regina suggested, as if "residual magic" was a thing that happened when people had their powers stripped. He wasn't going to correct her. "And when she did…when she was gone, the magic in her pendant had no tether, it was set free! Her last wish fulfilled."

He scoffed. That theory was…actually, it wasn't the worst thing that he could come up with. Not at all, now that he thought of it. If she truly was tied to that necklace as he theorized, then it would have needed her every bit as she needed it. Without her, all that power would be set free in the world. But if that magic was as devoted and driven to fulfilling her spell as she was…yes, that might have had the power to open the portal. But the fourth ingredient…the child had been taken away. It didn't make sense.

"How do we unfulfill it?" Robin asked, getting to the important part of the theory…the practical. He supposed he knew what he and Belle would be doing tonight.

"Excellent question, but until we figure it out, no one should go near it," he commented. "A trip to the past could have catastrophic repercussions."

David shook his head and reached into his pocket. "And Emma and Hook wandered off alone. I'll call her and Mary Margaret, see if anyone has seen them. Maybe we can set up a barrier around it of some kind."

"What part of 'no one should go near it' was unclear?" he demanded, shocked at the suggestion. He had said, "don't go near it," and David's bright idea was to put people near it? On purpose?! "Portals, like the kind that took us to Neverland, are designed to draw people in. This particular portal has never been achieved, documented, or studied before. The strength of its pull is unknown. Warn the town and warn your daughter, but until then, no one goes near it!"

"And how do you propose we keep people away from it if we can't guard it?!" David argued. "That thing in the sky is only going to attract attention. You know the people in this town, Zelena declared war on Regina promising death and destruction, and people showed up to watch like it was a Saturday night at the movie theater!"

"We use word of mouth," Belle insisted, stepping between him and David before he could say something insulting. "It doesn't take long in this town for news to spread, we'll just start telling everyone now, and by tomorrow afternoon, no one will go near it if we tell them there is a protection spell around it."

The room was quiet. He didn't entirely trust a plan like that, but since he had no idea how else to handle it-

"It's not a bad idea," Regina conceded as if she doubted its ability too. "Tell everyone it's protected by something with a little kick in it, and it might work; quickly, if we go back and tell the seven loud mouths-"

"So, it's back to the diner then?" David questioned with anger in his voice as if it wasn't a good enough suggestion. The truth was that it wasn't. It wasn't a good enough suggestion. But in the absence of any other ideas…

He let out a frustrated sigh, then admitted, "At the moment, telling people to stay away is really all we can do."

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 38: Before Trouble

She didn't argue with his non-answer answer. Merely sighed, scooted closer to him on the cot so she could lace her fingers with his own, and then laid her head on his shoulder.

Perfection. If they could get married right here and now, just like this, he'd be happy. But he wasn't entirely sure that she would. The idea of a marriage ceremony was something he looked down at, a natural reaction, he figured, to living as long as he had. He'd seen women and men spend everything that they had on lavish, grand ceremonies that were over in ten minutes, all for the couple to start screaming at each other within hours of their wedding night. It seemed like a waste.

There had, of course, been a time that he found the act of marrying by a well, the simple tradition his village had, to be quite nice. No money to spend, no lavishes to spare, just a holy man and two kids in love declaring it to the entire town. It was simple and lovely, though the fact that he'd done it once with Milah and how that had ended left him scarred by the idea of doing that again. Besides, their only "town well" was in the middle of nowhere. Which might work well for him, but for her…

Belle adjusted beside him, as if her body knew what she was thinking and wanted to remind him that she had a say too. Her Kingdom had different wedding traditions. And her status meant that she'd not only been well aware of those traditions but probably planned for them her entire life, even if she'd told the reporter that she hadn't. Why was it only just now dawning on him that he'd never asked her what she wanted out of a wedding? Why hadn't this been something they'd discussed the night they decided to get married?

He opened his mouth to ask her what she had in mind, but suddenly every muscle in Belle's body became tense, and he felt her head leave the place it had been resting on his shoulder as she leaned forward.

"Belle?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking over to find her staring at the table in front of them.

"Your books," she muttered quietly as if some crime had been committed. "The books we keep in the basement…they were here yesterday, but now they're-"

"Safely back in the basement where they belong," he assured her quickly doing his best to keep from laughing as she processed his words and then leaned back into him with a sigh of relief.

Of course, to a librarian, missing or out-of-place books would be a crime. Though it did his heart good to see that she hadn't brought anything out of that basement without recognizing the importance and potentially even the danger associated with that choice. He knew he could trust her with his secrets.

"Though I am curious how they ended up here…and why the shop seems to have been cleaned and reorganized in my absence…" he prompted.

He wasn't dying from curiosity to know everything that had happened while he'd been in the Underworld and under Zelena's thumb, he wasn't sure he was ready to hear about her adventures with Baelfire. But he was curious about the status quo, about whether or not Eurydice and Orpheus had delivered the hat to Jefferson, why his books were here, why things in the front of the shop seemed out of place.

"I had to figure out what was happening," she explained. "You left me no choice when you told me what she was after from you. Regina left books from our world for me in my library, but without my memories, I didn't know they were there. And no one would let me go home because they didn't want me to be alone with Zelena on the loose, so I had to bring you to me in the only way I knew how. I brought the books here.

"Last night was the first time I'd been home in a week! Showers at the apartment, meals at Granny's…everything else I've done has been here: sleeping, researching, and reading. Some days I needed to keep my hands busy, and you weren't here, so I cleaned, and I figured the books-"

It was hard to say what had come over him that forced him to turn her head and kiss her again mid-story. Only that, as she'd been rambling on as if trying to give excuses that made what she'd done "okay," he'd felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion; emotion and gratitude. While all he'd known was a small cell, all she'd known was a cage of her own. She'd used every advantage she had in her arsenal while he'd been doing the same. And somehow, even though it saddened him how they'd both been alone, that cage felt a lot less lonely.

Perhaps they were more alike than even he realized.

"They were safe here with you," he assured her. "I trust you."

Before he could respond, he leaned forward again and captured her lips. He held her closer as he let their limbs tangle together and moved his hand lower so he could put it under her sweater because...fuck it! After the year they'd had, if they wanted to spend their time in the back room making love or feeling each other up like a couple of teenagers, then by all means-

The shrill sound of a cell phone ringing made her jump from his hands and twist around to find her bag before he could get his hand below her waist. He tried to stop her, not because he feared what was on the other end but genuinely because he wanted to continue.

And because he feared what might be at the other end.

"If that's someone calling to say there's a problem, ignore it," he insisted.

"I wish I could," she sighed.

He bit his tongue, reminding himself that her heroic and selfless nature was something he loved whether or not they were in the middle of a seduction. Though he did wish that she could prioritize a little better. Or maybe just learn to say "no."

"It's not trouble!" she assured him with a smile, staring down at the phone. Obviously it wasn't a caller, only a message from someone. "Mary Margaret was released from the hospital this morning. They're having a coronation ceremony at the diner, to tell us the baby's name," she added as if he didn't know what that was. "David asked for you to be there."

The shock of that was like having a bucket of cold water tossed over his head.

David asked for him to be there? Him, personally? Not just an invitation for Belle because she was part of their little heroic team now…but him as well? The man who had fought at the side of the witch.

Belle turned the phone over to him so that he could see the message from Ruby himself, bearing that final line that David wanted Gold there.

That was…interesting, to say the least. Was there a reason they'd asked for him? Had they discovered Zelena was missing and wanted to question him? There was a second child involved in their life now, did they need legal advice or papers filed? Or were they just trying to be polite? Probably the latter, but still…

"I suppose we could go for an early dinner," he suggested. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to take her home and have her all to himself so he could give her the ring in his pocket, among other things, but going for dinner would at least take care of one necessity before getting them home for the "among other things" part.

"I want to go," Belle stated simply, freeing him from being the one that made the decision. He nodded, and she kissed him again before they scrambled off the cot and she looked down at her bag…and stopped. She considered it again, just as she had this morning before they left the house, which told him all he needed to know about what she was thinking before she said it.

"Leave it here if it makes you uncomfortable. I'll only be for a while."

"Out in the open like-"

"Belle…" he sighed. Were they going to go through this every time they went somewhere? "Belle, the shop, much like the house and your library, is protected," he promised, grabbing the bag for her and placing it in a lower cabinet, out of sight, out of mind. And hopefully, in the future, it would help her to realize that she could hide it with him without being suspicious that it wasn't the real one.

"It'll be fine," he promised, before pulling her closer and kissing her one more time, and leading her out the door for Granny's. She followed where he led, but he felt like he could feel her tension over that which was left behind. He hoped this was just temporary, just as much as it would linger. If she felt this way about it now, then he expected that in a week or so, when it came time to switch the pair of them, then she'd be all too willing to do as he suggested and hide it. But he hoped that this wasn't the eternal response to being out and about without the dagger, then-

He stopped dead.

Belle let out a squeal at the unexpected halting of motion, but he didn't pay it any attention because he was busy. His mind, body, and every sense he had was suddenly tuned to…magic.

They weren't at Granny's quite yet, but he felt it. It tingled at his skin and made the back of his neck itch. Powerful magic, maybe even more powerful than the curse that brought them here, was in use right this moment but…where…what…

He twisted around, looking this way and that, trying to identify it. But there was no signature to it that he could recognize.

"Rumple? What's wrong?" he heard Belle question as he kept looking.

"Magic…" he said as his only explanation. He should send her along. If he couldn't identify it, then it was dangerous, and he didn't want Belle out in the open. She should go to the diner to hide and warn whoever was-

"There!"

Suddenly Belle pointed up into the sky behind them. A beam of bright orange light that he'd only seen once before was stretched into the sky like a spotlight. He'd seen that color of magic once before, and though he'd never smelled this kind of magic before, he knew that when magic was at its full potential, it could feel and taste and even smell differently than when it was only brewing, but the dregs of it were there. Impossible…

"What is that?!" Belle questioned beside him.

It was new. Something that had never been done before. Something that shouldn't be possible. An impossibility made real…

"Trouble."

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 37: Securing the Alibi

The ring was a success. When he was done with it, he promptly fetched a jewelry box and set it delicately upon the little pillow inside in anticipation of her arrival. He'd give it to her tonight. Either they'd go to dinner, or he'd make some at home…he didn't care how romantic it was, the second he'd received a text from Dove saying that Maurice and Belle had gone off on a walk together and Dove was following on foot, he'd wanted that ring on her finger. The ring now held some of the strongest, best magic he'd ever worked. A spell subtle enough that it likely would never be sensed, but strong enough that it would take a powerful sort of magic to hide it from him. It was perfect. And the sooner he got it on her, the sooner he could take Dove off of permanent babysitting duty.

With the pair of them off, he set to keeping his mind busy with activity. Though he would have loved to sit down and spin, the memory of what he'd done, what he'd created the last time, was still too fresh to allow himself any kind of peace.

So instead, he cleaned. Not the way Belle cleaned, although the shop clearly bore traces of that as well. His version was more about restoring order to the chaos than using a rag or feather duster. The shop was a mess, it felt like nothing was where he wanted it to be or could remember it being, especially in the back room. It bore the evidence of Belle using it as her own personal library and workshop. There were vials of ingredients open and spread about on the table, a mortar and pestle, and a hot plate was out. And the books he found…some of them looked as though they might have been from the library, but others…he recognized the titles. They were from the basement. His basement. Books he kept hidden and out of sight. Now they were marked with bookmarks and bits of paper with notes written in them in Belle's handwriting.

The table looked like a mystery. He felt like if he just went through those books and notes, he might get some idea of how Belle had managed to figure out what Zelena was doing and help the others. But he had no interest in that today. With a wave of his hand, he returned the books to his basement. He'd go through them later. One by one, he went through the other items left on the table, identifying what was missing from each bottle and vial, making notes on potions he'd always kept around that appeared to be missing, things he could do later, he cleaned the mortar and pestle and placed them away with the hot plate. He was just resetting the protection spells around the shop when he felt his phone buzz again, a new message from Dove. He'd been expecting another update as he'd faithfully kept him informed while Belle had been away, but this time the message that awaited him…

Heads up, boss, we just ditched Maurice, and I think we're heading back to you.

Heading back. He wasn't quite sure how much time he had, but there was absolutely one last thing he had to do before she returned. He moved quickly into the back room and opened the cabinet by the door. With his magic, he hallowed out the uppermost part of the top shelf, taking the top layer of it so that it would make a box that would never be perceptible to another, especially if she were too short to see this high without a ladder. Then he carefully opened the drawer beside him, moved aside some rags…and spied the dagger hiding at the bottom, right where he'd sent it yesterday.

Without delay, he scooped it up and dropped it into the space he'd hallowed out in the cabinet. He replaced the lid he'd made, then used his magic to seal the dagger away, applying every protection he knew to do quickly. It wouldn't need to be forever. Ideally, it would only have to last a day or so, until word of Zelena went public, and people were convinced Belle had the real one and he wasn't the one responsible. Then he could convince her to hide the one she had elsewhere and switch them back easily so that she'd never know. But until then….

He locked the cabinet door, hoping Belle wouldn't have reason to open it up or wonder why it was locked. He just finished turning the key when he felt…her, her presence within his property line. Belle was back. And his protection spells were already proving they were easily back up to snuff.

He slipped the key into his pocket, and a moment later, he heard the door to the front door chime. Her heels clicked hurriedly along the wooden floor, and in a flash, she was nearly face to face with him again, a look of panic on her face as she approached.

"Look, this…this is too much power to keep with me!" she stated, brandishing the dagger and offering it to him again. He held back a smile as he stepped away from it. Oh yes, in a few days' time, when he had to convince her to hide it so he could switch them, it would be all too easy.

"No, I-I don't want it, Belle. The point was I trust you!"

"I know…" her face fell as she looked it over. "Well, then, is-is there somewhere I can store it safely? Like back in our land, at your castle, you had that vault, the-the one with no doors."

Too easy, it was almost unfair.

"That vault was for only the most dangerous and unstable magic, that which even I couldn't comprehend."

"And this doesn't qualify?"

"No…you see, uh…I understand this all too well," he explained, taking it out of her hands and feeling that temptation to switch them back, even here and now. But it was too soon. Belle wouldn't like it, but once they discovered Zelena was missing, if they ordered her to use the dagger on him to prove he hadn't done it, the real one in her hands would cause a problem. Not so with the fake. For now, it would remain, and he would rest easy in her dis-ease.

"I left that vault and all its dangers behind, but this dagger is not dangerous because, as I said…I trust you," he stressed, returning it to her bag. He could see her objection clearly on her face. Not having the patience to repeat this conversation again until the time came to hide it, he set the bag aside and took both her hands in his own.

"Let's discuss something a bit more pleasant. Like…our wedding!"

"Yes," she blushed, her mouth curling into a smile as her shoulders eased. A distraction was sometimes all it took. "Oh! I told my father the good news, and…he gave us his blessing!"

His shoulders tensed at the easy way that she'd said such a thing, as if they'd both been hoping that was his reaction when, in fact, they'd both been happy this morning to pretend that wasn't where she'd been off to this afternoon. He was fine to pretend until she wasn't. Now he'd speak his mind.

"The man who kidnapped you in order to keep us apart…" he reminded her unhappily. As if he needed that man's "blessing," let alone wanted it. It was more like a curse.

"Well, I've forgiven him. And he's forgiven you!" she pressed predictably. "He knows you're a changed man, everyone does, especially me."

He smiled as a vise seized over his heart, and the Dark Ones laughed in his head. His mind went straight to the dagger hiding away in the cabinet behind him, to the plan that he was concocting and about to use Belle in as an unwitting accomplice.

But then she smiled and squeezed his hands, giving a small tug that begged him to move in for a kiss, and he remembered…there was no way around this. There was no way he would have been able to go on with his life if he hadn't done what he'd done. And it was the last thing he'd done. As soon as it was all over and all was well, it was the last lie he'd ever tell, the last harm he'd ever commit against her. There was no reason to feel guilty for doing what had to be done for them both. And for Neal.

That thought alone was what kept him smiling after she broke away from him, and he pulled her back for another. And then another. And then-

"I thought you wanted to talk about the wedding?" she muttered against his mouth; her voice playful enough to tell him without opening his eyes that she was smiling.

Yes, there was a wedding to plan. A wedding that he preferred to take place sooner rather than later because history told him that when they were together, the world would do its best to tear them apart. They would fight it. They would always make their way back to one another. But he wanted to always return to his wife, rather than his fiancé.

"I do," he nodded. "I'm a man of details."

"So…she asked, pulling out of his grasp and sitting down on the cot. "When exactly do you want to do this? Get married…" she added as if knowing that sitting down on the cot the way she had elicited other thoughts of what they could do in his mind.

"Soon."

"Soon…how soon?"

He sighed as he sat down before her as he considered the question. The effect of being beside her was immediate. All the guilt and fear he'd been confronting before vanished, and he breathed in peace, the same peace he felt each night before he went to bed with her in his arms, which was likely why he immediately closed his eyes and leaned back comfortably on the wall. Peace was such a rarity that it demanded he savor it.

How soon did he want to marry her? How soon did he want to secure this peace that she gave to him? He'd do it now if he could. He'd go find Archie right now, the only one he knew of off the top of his head besides Regina, who had the power to make it official and marry her before they left this shop. This moment they were together and optimistic and safe. But outside of those doors, he feared what awaited them. How soon?

"Before trouble," he answered.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 36: Post Traumatic Responses

The pictures were a good idea. The engagement announcement surprised Belle and made her blush, but he could see that she was happy, and her happiness made him happy. And for all the time that the reporter was in his shop, posing them for pictures and asking questions they couldn't answer, he couldn't bring himself to care who saw how happy he was.

His joy was overwhelming, but so was having the reporter in his shop. But Belle fielded question after question like an expert, even though most of them were the same answer. No, they didn't have a date in mind, or a season, or a timeframe of any kind. No, she hadn't looked at dresses. No, she hadn't expected it. No, she hadn't been dreaming of her wedding day all her life. But yes, she'd always known, ever since they fell in love, that they'd end up here. Even in times when all hope seemed lost, she'd always kept that dream alive. An answer like that was enough to send him into a tailspin, and make him happy that he'd decided to ask her how and when he did. Her eternal optimism to his eternal pessimism; they were a perfect match.

For all the time that the reporter was there, he did as he was told, stood where the light was right, let her answer the questions, even let the strange man touch some of his artifacts for "decoration." The only time he ever wavered was when he saw Dove's truck pull up out front. The window rolled down and Dove glanced inside the shop at him. Of course, Dove was wearing sunglasses, but he had the distinct feeling that even at this distance, he was looking right at him, before he pulled out a copy of the Storybrooke Mirror, ironically, and sat there reading to fill the time before instructions.

A few minutes later, the reporter, who Belle called "Charlie" when she thanked him, stated that he had what he needed and began to put his things away.

"Rumple," Belle called to him after tying her hair back and grabbing her bag. "I have to go."

And there it was. Exactly what he'd been waiting for and afraid of since they'd talked this morning. She shouldn't have to go anywhere. But he knew that she couldn't take the information he'd left her with earlier and just let it sit. Which was why Dove was currently sitting outside his shop cooling his heels…for this…

So, he nodded, with a heavy sigh that probably told her he knew she wasn't going to the library, though neither of them mentioned that. They shared a brief kiss; she told him that she'd see him later, and he told her to have a good day, and that was that. The second that she was out the door and heading in a direction that was clearly not the library, he reached for his phone.

Follow her. From a safe distance. Don't let her know. Keep me informed.

He sent the message, and as Charlie rambled on about writing up the article and posting it, likely as front-page news, he stared out his window and watched Dove as he stopped reading the paper. His head slumped as if he was reading a message. A moment later, he felt his phone vibrate with a return message but didn't check it as Dove looked across the street again. He gave a two-finger salute as he started the car and drove off in the direction Belle had gone. Once the reporter was out the door, he checked the message. You're the boss…

Good. At least that was one relationship that could easily slip back into place. Even if it was just "so long as he was paying." Which he was. Thanks to the return of his memories, he knew that whoever had cast the Curse had essentially used Regina's version as a base, setting everything back to the way that it was right before the town was infected by Pan's Magic. That was why the shop had been here even if he wasn't, why his home and his car and his basement were identical. It was why Belle was currently over at Game of Thorns, according to Dove's latest text, and it was why he knew he still owned the town and was just as unfathomably rich as ever.

So, yes, he was still paying Dove. Even if it was just to sit in a car and watch…

She's at her father's shop-Game of Thorns. You want me to intervene? She walked in on her own.

For that, he called. "Can you see them from where you are?" he asked when he picked up.

"Well, hello again to you too. Welcome back from the land of the dead."

He had no idea just how literal that welcome was.

"Just answer my question. Can you see them from where you are?"

On the other end, Dove sighed like he was bored. "Yeah…I'm parked across the street, but I've got a good sight of them through a window. She's in the front of the shop, he's behind the counter. They're just…talking. Well…she seems to be doing most of that talking, he's just sort of standing there in shock. She snuck up on him, I think."

Which was the only reason he'd let her go in the first place.

"You want me to intervene?"

"No," he answered when he realized Dove couldn't see him shaking his head. "No, just…keep a close watch. Let me know if they're moving, and if he ever grabs her or it looks like he's forcing her to go somewhere she doesn't want to go-"

"No offense, boss, but I don't think I could ignore that even if you wanted me to."

"Good…follow those instincts."

"Hey, boss…" Dove muttered before he could snap his phone shut and hang up on him.

"Yes, Mr. Dove?"

There was a pause. A long one that made him cringe at just the thought that he was about to comment on Baelfire. But then-

"I'm glad you're back. Life is…boring without your constant nagging."

He felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. "I'm sure it's also not nearly as profitable as when you are in my employ."

Dove chuckled on the other end of the line. "Yeah, that too."

"Vacation's over, Mr. Dove, get back to work," he ordered before snapping the phone closed.

He hunched himself over the cabinet before him. He took a breath. A deep one. The thought of Baelfire, of someone telling him that they were sorry he'd died or offering him sympathy…it made his heart feel like it was being wrenched from his body. He couldn't dwell on those thoughts right now. He wasn't ready yet to go to the cemetery. And he absolutely was not ready to hear about the adventures that he'd had, the life that he'd known when he was away from him. Thanks to the memories of his memories, he knew that it was great and complicated, that in the past year, Belle had featured prominently. But he wasn't ready. Not now. Just knowing that he'd taken Zelena off this earth was about the only thing keeping him upright. He'd settle for that.

And for Belle walking back through that door soon enough, perfect and unharmed.

Sending Dove out to follow her was not something he planned on making a regular thing. At least, he hoped it wouldn't have to be. But for now, at a time when he felt the most vulnerable because a piece of his very tender, fragile, and small humanity was out in the world walking around without the ability to protect herself from the worst kind of people who wanted to hurt and use him and-

He took another deep breath before his thoughts ran away.

Dove was just a precaution. He was protection; protection he knew Belle would have turned down if he'd offered. But while she might have been ready to go off to her father without any kind of backup, trusting that the surprise was enough to keep that man from doing something awful to her, he was not nearly as ready. If something happened, if Maurice got any ideas, he wanted Dove there to act in her best interests until he could arrive. Not to mention, in that case, Dove could provide a location for him to find her if she was in danger. Without a location, his magic, of course, might be able to locate her on its own, but he knew that it wasn't always as simple as that, and he didn't want to always bank on it.

Not that Belle's location would be a problem for much longer…

The reporter gone, Belle talking to her father, the dagger in the cabinet, and a million other things that he really should do now that he was back at the shop, but he was drawn to the glass showcase he kept the jewelry in. There, in the back, tucked away and surrounded by other gems he'd hoped customers would take a liking to far more, was a ring. He smiled as he plucked it up. He smiled because he'd always had this one reserved in his mind, always thought it would look truly beautiful upon her finger. Now he didn't have to pretend. He didn't have to sneak it away or distract potential customers from it. Now he could simply give it to her and watch her face light up without ever knowing there was an extra hidden feature built into it.

He took the ring into the back room and retrieved his black bag. When he was done working his magic, not only would it be a beautiful engagement ring for her, a symbol of their love and commitment for them…it would also be a beacon for him. So that no matter where she was in whatever realm or world, he'd be able to find her if something terrible happened.

And he wasn't doing it because he didn't trust her. He did trust her, entirely.

It was only because he didn't trust the world at all.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 35: the Oddity of Surprises

She slept. But he did not. However, as she'd requested, he did manage to rest. He found peace in holding her close, keeping her still and safe enough to sleep as he counted the seconds of the clock downstairs to keep his mind distracted and present. He drifted too, wanting to join her in sleep, but for now, rest would be enough.

Until he arrived at second number 3,485, and knew that the hour she'd requested was nearly up. They needed to go to the shop to meet the photographer so that he could make his deadline. If they didn't, then things throughout the day were likely to get complicated once the Charmings discovered Zelena was missing, and he wouldn't have that interrupt them.

Belle's father, on the other hand…

He sighed and tried not to let that thought bother him. She hadn't said that she was going to see him, but there was a part of him that knew after their conversation she was going to go to the man and attempt to make peace with him. The optimistic architect of the Darkest Curse to ever be cast assured him that if she went to him off the cuff, without giving her father any kind of warning, then all would be well. But the pessimistic side of him that knew it didn't take much for good plans to go awry was happy to believe that if she didn't say it, he could pretend that it wasn't going to happen, and he wasn't going to be part of their life. Until he could get to a phone and make plans for Dove to follow her to her father's, that was the voice he was going to listen to.

"Beautiful Belle…" he whispered, finally beginning the process of moving his body to bring life back to her own. He stretched his fingers, trailed them along the indent of her spine, and pressed a kiss to her forehead until he heard her take in a deep breath of consciousness. "Beautiful Belle, I love you, but I can't let you sleep any longer. Sweetheart? Will you wake up for me?"

Her head gave a jerk of a nod and before the motion smoothed and she smiled up at him. Her arms tightened, and for a moment, he thought that he'd have to spoil the surprise to drag her out of bed, but then she kissed him with only a peck, rolled over, and got out of the bed.

She showered first, and as she did, he was quick to conjure his cell phone into his hand and search for Dove.

It's a new day, Mr. Dove. I have work for you. He typed out as he prepared his suit for the day.

Aren't you supposed to be under some witch's spell? The reply came just before he stepped into the shower himself.

Read the news, Mr. Dove. The witch is dead, and we have business to attend to.

He showered. Again. He didn't care that he'd done it only just the night before, he wanted to do it again. If only it would be as easy to scrub his brain clean of the things he'd said and did as it was to scrub his body. But alas, all he was able to do was clean himself up, put his suit on, meet Belle by the door and-

She stood at a standstill, looking down into her bag awkwardly until he approached, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I could leave it in the basement…" she suggested, suddenly pulling the false dagger he'd given her yesterday free.

That was tempting. Putting it in the basement would make for an easy opportunity to switch the dagger from the fake one to the actual one later…but not today. Given the fact that he was certain that the entire Charming Family would come to find him first when they discovered that Zelena was missing, he wanted that dagger on Belle. It would seal his alibi and instill more trust in her so that she need never doubt him again. It was a cruel trick he was playing, but if anyone in the world expected him to have a future, even if it was a short one, it was necessary. After today, after the shock of Zelena died down, and the suspicion was gone, then they could switch it back and never worry about it again.

"It's safe enough with you," he insisted, gently pushing her out the door and forcing her to stuff it back in her bag without argument. It was just for a little while. This rouse wouldn't last long. It was only a bit longer until he could truly embrace being the person that she wanted him to be, the person she needed him to be. Just a bit longer...

At that moment, he felt a vibration in his pocket. After delivering Belle to her side of the car, he glanced down to see a new message from Dove. So long as you're still paying, what do you need?

Just for a little while. All of this was just for a little while.

Park across the street from the Pawn Shop and wait for instructions. He typed the message back with haste, then closed the phone and got into the car before Belle could notice.

Driving to work felt odd. He ignored it. Just as showering this morning felt odd. Just like choosing what to have for breakfast or what suit he'd wanted to wear felt odd. That wasn't unexpected, he told himself, after living in a cage for so long, at the whim of another, having the freedom to do as he wanted when he wanted was going to feel odd. Driving down the streets of Storybrooke as if it was an ordinary day…it was odd.

But as the shop came into view and he saw a man standing outside the door, he put the oddity of it aside and straightened up. He didn't care how people had seen him under Zelena's power. He was Mr. Gold. And he intended to remind everyone exactly who Mr. Gold was.

Belle, apparently, hadn't observed the man standing there until after they parked the car and rounded the corner. He was immensely proud of the fact that he'd managed to pull this particular surprise off, even if he knew the squeeze she gave his elbow was done in warning.

"Mr. Gold, you're late."

He glared at the man clutching a square bag at his side that he assumed contained a camera at the very least.

"I mean…I mean, maybe you're not late, maybe I'm early. It's been a while since I had the battery checked…" he commented, his eyes drifting to his watch. "It could be…maybe…Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed, glancing at the woman on his arm and looking at her as though she was a lifeboat in a storm. "You must be Belle, it's nice to meet you…it's…yes, it's nice to meet you," he chattered away, extending a hand only after glancing up at him nervously.

Oh yes…it was nice to be Mr. Gold again.

"Hi," Belle smiled back politely as she shook his hand and looked between the two of them. "Do you two uh, do you-do you know each other?"

Yes, but given how he knew him, he'd rather share the news with her inside and away from prying eyes and listening ears. That was a typical thing for Mr. Gold to do, even if the typical felt freakishly out of place at the moment.

"My apologies, we slept late this morning, and I prefer to talk about this in private," he excused digging his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the shop to get the pair of them inside.

"Should I go?" Belle questioned as he held the door open for her.

"No!" the man answered for him. "No, no, that won't work at all, I'll need both of you."

"Both of us…Rumple, what is he talking about? What is going on?" she asked, turning to him as he closed the door. He ignored the eyes of the reporter and let Mr. Gold's persona drop a little bit more as he approached her.

"Let's consider it part of your surprise," he smiled, more than happy to let her think this was part of what he'd spent his time alone last night doing, only to realize that it wasn't a lie.

"I don't…I don't understand-"

"Beautiful Belle…" he suppressed a shudder at the knowledge that the reporter was right there, fully capable of hearing everything that they were saying, but then…wasn't that the point of doing this? Making everything officially public? With that in mind, reporter or not, he picked up her hands to hold them in his own and brought her palms to his lips. She was nearly as stunned from the action as he was, but took comfort in her hands in his own, right along with him…for better or worse.

"He's from the paper," he explained. "For too long, you and I have lived our lives in the shadows, fearful of who or what might come for us if they knew, but this is different. I don't want to keep what we have a secret, I don't want our engagement to be quiet. If we're going to be married, then we're going to live our lives in the light, and if we're going to do that, then we may as well make a proper announcement of it."

He watched as the muscles in her face morphed into the thoughts in her mind; confusion, suspicion, recognition, realization, a question of whether or not it could be true, and then-

He saw a smile bloom over her face just before she threw her arms around his neck with happy understanding. And as he held her in place, he felt her back shudder, but he wasn't sure if it was because she was crying or laughing or both.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 34: In the Moment Confessions

He spent the majority of his night in the basement, writing out some of the basics of what he remembered from the Underworld. A map, the gravestones, the last visions he'd had, the prophecy the Seer had given him; he scrawled it all down tirelessly until he felt enough of himself, and his memories, had been poured into his latest Chronicle and stored away. He wrote until the call he felt wasn't to put pen to paper, but rather to rest his soul in the arms he'd left behind. In the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was beginning to light the night sky, he locked the Chronicles away once more, storing them under the stairs where they belonged, then left the basement behind, and returned to his bedroom to find that his Beautiful Belle hadn't moved a muscle. Her open arms and the promise of her skin called to him once more, and he didn't hesitate to dive right back into the bed and settle his head over her heart. He'd already been halfway to sleep when he felt her arms automatically come up and embrace him again, just as if he'd never left.

It felt like only a second later that he had his next conscious thought, but his mind registered that he must have slept because there was light behind his closed eyelids and Belle…there was a soft ruffle of his hair that he associated with her fingers moving through it; stroking him just as he might have stroked her back in the morning and he suddenly felt as though it was impossible for his heart to ever turn Dark in her hands because he always felt so light with her.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she apologized in a hushed voice the second he opened his eyes.

Given how late he was up last night if she hadn't woken him, he might have slept later, waking up in her arms certainly would have that effect on him. But now that his eyes were open, and he could take in the amount of light in the room…a glance at the clock told him the store needed to be open in thirty minutes.

"I don't like to sleep late," he commented, even as he settled back down against her, suddenly wishing he didn't have to give a flying fuck about what time the store was supposed to be open.

"There's no harm in taking a day or so off, in sleeping an extra hour or two," she insisted, reading his mind.

No, there wasn't. But the dagger was at the store. It had been safe for the night in a drawer he'd sent it to after killing Zelena, but now that morning had come, he needed to get her to the store and figure out a time to switch it back with the fake one he'd given her yesterday. Not to mention that soon Emma would go to the station to give Zelena her breakfast and find nothing there.

There was certainly no harm in taking a day off or sleeping an extra hour, but not today. He just wished he could tell Belle that.

"There are things that need done," he commented instead, settling for one of those vague mysterious answers she hated and hoping that she'd let it slide just this once after the year he'd had. In his own defense, after today, he never wanted to have to give her one of those answers again. Once all this was truly at an end with Zelena, he was going to turn over a new leaf and be the man she wanted him to be and deserved to have, even if it made the Dark Ones in his head gag.

"Do you want to go see him?" Belle suddenly asked in a timid voice so low it made her chest vibrate against his cheek. Did he want to go see him? See who? What was she talking about? "I'll go with you. We can go see Neal together. I'll be by your side the entire time."

Neal.

Baelfire.

He'd been living with him as a concept in his head for so long that he felt guilty for realizing suddenly that his son wasn't just a memory or a voice in his head. He'd been a person. And he'd died a person, which meant there was a…body. And that body, his son's corpse, it had to be somewhere.

A cemetery. Part of him hoped that it might still be at a coroner's office or at the hospital, but the ease with which she suggested that they go see him, not to mention his knowledge of those who would have likely taken custody of his body, gave him doubt. A cemetery would have been the place they'd visit Baelfire, Neal, to Belle. He wondered if there had been a funeral and, in the same breath, knew without doubt that there had been. Snow White would not have let anyone go to ground without a funeral, and certainly not her grandson's father.

He'd missed his son's funeral.

Now that he was thinking about it, the days following Neal's death when he'd been laid out on the floor of his jail cell, the Dark Ones rummaging through his head and painfully sorting memories...he did have memories of Zelena in that time. On one particular occasion, he felt as though he remembered her telling him that there was a funeral that day. His real memories of that time were only flashes. Composed of bits and pieces he thought he might have remembered but wasn't sure if he was making up. He could have sworn that Zelena had told him in a tone meant to be harmful and devastating. "Was it worth it?" he could have sworn she'd asked. He was almost certain he'd answered. Almost certain that he'd told her it had been. Almost certain he'd managed to respond with some insult, but looking back it was difficult to tell if it was real or not. He'd been reliving something that made it entirely too painful to dwell on the fact at the time of that particular visit, but now...

Now he wondered what the funeral had looked like. He wondered what the grave looked like now, if there was a tombstone, and what it said. He wondered where his tombstone was in the Underworld, if he'd found it yet. Was it tipped or cracked or just sitting there waiting…

He hid his shudder and unshed tears from Belle by rolling away from her. "I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet, Belle," he realized. He wasn't ready to see it. He wasn't sure he'd have been ready to attend his son's funeral even if he could have, but seeing that grave now, the reality of a tombstone was just…he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he ever would be. For now, wondering was all he was prepared to allow himself.

Beside him, Belle rolled over onto her side, pressing against him and pouring warmth he didn't know he'd needed into him when her arm came over his stomach. "We'll go when you're ready."

Ready. How was he ever supposed to be ready for such a thing? He was a logical person, he knew at which point a spell reached its magical capacity, he knew the precise boiling point for all his potions, and he could check boxes off on a plan or a list of ingredients, but this…how was he supposed to know when he was ready? How was Bae supposed to know what his unfinished business was, or where to find that fiery cavern, or what the tombstones meant? What if he had no unfinished business? Would he wait for him there?

This was why the Underworld was meant to be untouchable for mortals. Coming back to the mortal realm, any mortal realm, with those images of Hades' town in his mind wasn't supposed to be something that a person should live with. And just like those memories of his son that he'd tossed away because he wasn't meant to see them, it haunted him. Oh, that he could get rid of those memories just as easily as he'd gotten rid of his son's memories.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked aloud, desperately trying to do anything that might break up the thoughts in his own mind. If his own thoughts weren't safe, maybe Belle's could be.

"Belle Gold…" she muttered in response. It was a reply so perfect that he smiled in relief. Belle Gold…that was a much safer thought to dwell in, a wonderful reminder to live in this moment instead of the past, or even the future.

"It won't be a name that will make you friends in this town," he warned, knowing full well that by this time tomorrow, people all over the town would be waking up to learn that truth. It wasn't just because he liked a rigid schedule that would force them to the shop on time today. She didn't know it, but a photographer was coming to take their picture for the paper. He meant for it to be a romantic gesture just as it was a pompous one. He wanted the world to know that Mr. Gold would soon wed the librarian Belle French and that both their lives would be and already had been changed forever…just as her name would soon be changed.

"It's not that…I'm happy. I can finally have the other name I've always wanted…needed really. I'm happy it's yours."

"The honor is mine," he smiled, still feeling both flattered and skeptical by the choice she'd confessed to…hell, that had been a year ago since they'd had that conversation. An entire year lost. A shame. Especially because he knew she'd spent a fair amount of that time with Baelfire, more than he ever had. If he hadn't been so tired, he might have been jealous.

"And mine," she insisted, interrupting his thoughts and pulling him back from the brink of despair once more. How was she so good at living in the moment? "I've never wanted a family name before Neverland, at least not one that I felt honor or attachment to. 'French' might be the last name the town considers mine, but I've never used it! I've never felt attached to it. I never wanted a family name before Neverland because I never felt like I had a family, especially not after what my father tried to do to me here, and back home for that matter."

"No one decides your fate but you…"

She let out a small huff of laughter as she smiled. "And you!" she added insistently before propping herself up on her elbow to gaze down at him. He smiled back, expecting that she was about to make some romantic point, but a knot formed in his chest at the sight of the look on her face. Shadows he couldn't understand danced across her eyes, wrinkling her brow and souring her face as though she'd just tasted something horrible. She was silent as she stared, drawing her gaze from his eyes to his chest, suddenly looking like she was going to cry.

"When you died…" she choked, her hand moving to the very spot on his chest he'd felt the dagger shred his heart a year ago. "When you died, I felt it…I felt that you weren't around anymore. I felt that you were gone. And it…it was…it was like…like someone tore my soul in two and took away the good half…the best half. And the pain! The pain of that…of having no hope or anything to believe in anymore, of missing half of yourself! I wouldn't have survived if Neal hadn't helped me, gave me hope that there was a way to see you again. It was all I had to hold on to, all I could use to cover up the hole in my chest for months! Even then, it was barely enough."

She was crying when she wretched out those last words with a sob and laid her head back over his chest, her hair cascading down over his shoulder to tangle in his fingers once more as he held her. He let the tears she'd summoned in him quietly fall into the creases of his eyes and slide down his head like a mask.

He didn't have Neal's memories anymore, but he had the knowledge from when he'd viewed them. He felt every one of those words, knowing that Neal had looked at her and seen almost exactly what she'd described. She'd been broken, a shell of her former self. He'd known that was a risk when he'd done what he'd done, but to keep her and Henry and Neal safe, he'd been willing to put her through it and would do it all over again if he had to, frankly. Though this time, he might have left instructions for a proper summoning. If he had, then maybe-

"We're bound together, connected," she insisted suddenly, rescuing him from oblivion all over again. "That bond is only going to grow with time, it already has. Your fate is mine…I learned that the hard way."

"And yours is mine," he muttered back, squeezing her into his chest. She sighed in relief, but he tensed because what she'd taken as a romantic admission was something more than that. It was fact. What she'd instinctively grasped was knowledge that he'd gleaned from years of research, watching people who possessed the bond that they did now, and…she wasn't wrong. To have one's True Love ripped away in death was a severing that couples could feel even when they weren't in the same room. He'd just never been the one to feel it before, and that…that was what made him guilty.

Fuck…

"I should have known you weren't dead…" he admitted quietly, suddenly feeling ready to confess a sin of his past and atone.

She was silent once he'd whispered them, quiet enough he worried she hadn't heard until she shifted beside him to look over at him in confusion. "What?"

He swallowed hard, instinct causing him to instantly wish he'd kept the words to himself. But the bell had been rung, and unless he wanted to use magic to make her forget…

"Oh, my Belle…I learned all I could about True Love in our land, studied its properties and qualities, explainable and unexplainable; it was how I knew I needed Emma to break the Curse. True Love…the only magic strong enough to transcend realms, magical and non-magical.

"I knew the moment my own curse broke exactly what ours was, that it couldn't be anything else. I once told you that I sent you away because I couldn't risk the connection growing deeper than it was, but the connection was already there. When Regina told me what happened to you, how your father had shut you away, and you'd died, I knew it didn't feel right because I should have felt something…like you described.

"But I ignored it, convinced myself there was nothing there, that we simply hadn't bonded enough to feel it, and accepted the lie as truth. But I should have known it!" he admitted. "I shouldn't have trusted Regina. I should have trusted my instinct, I should have trusted what I knew, what I felt or hadn't felt. I should have known something was wrong and come after you-"

"I don't blame you!" she muttered quickly, reaching up to move her hand over his face.

Of course, she didn't blame him. She was wonderful and perfect. But just because she didn't blame him didn't mean that he was absolved of the cruelty she'd endured. She'd been held captive because of him.

"I do."

She swallowed hard and shook her head. "It doesn't matter how we got here, just that we are! And so long as we never accept defeat or death again, then we'll be perfectly fine!"

He wasn't entirely sure of that. Compared to him, she was young and doe-eyed. And though he did consider her to be one of the most intelligent creatures he'd ever met, sometimes her naivety shone through. She was right in a way. Never accepting death or defeat was one secret he'd gleaned to having a long marriage. But he wouldn't say it was the secret to having a happy marriage. And refusing to accept death and defeat…it wasn't as easy as simply being too stubborn to accept them.

"Rumple…" The room came into focus without him ever realizing he'd been swallowed up in his own thoughts again. And now Belle hovered beside him, looking as though she was considering something important. "What exactly did Regina tell you happened to me?"

He went so still that his skin tingled with the energy he needed to run away from this conversation. He'd never told her that part of the story before. At least, he'd never given her details because he knew that she'd know he wasn't level-headed enough to just do nothing about it and what he'd done because of it…

Well...as long as he was in a confessing mood…

He rolled them over, onto their sides so that no one had to hold the other up, an "even playing field," Neal would have called it. But he could see the suspicion in her eyes the moment he did it, as if she'd understood the reason behind it and was bracing herself for how bad it might actually be.

"I was told…that you'd gone back home, to your father, but that he'd rejected you because of the time we'd spent together. I was told that he hadn't allowed you home but had instead sent you to be locked in a tower, and cleansed, brutally, cruelly, even for me."

"You thought he killed me."

"No…not according to Regina. According to Regina…you killed yourself. Jumped off the tower, fell to your death in order to end your own suffering."

Her jaw fell open, leaving her gapping as she stared, not at him, but rather into his mind. Only…he knew that she wouldn't like what she'd find there.

"You should know…" How was one supposed to confess what he had to confess? "When I got my memories back in Storybrooke, when I remembered you and what Regina had said…my hatred for what he'd done to you only grew. Those first few months were difficult alone, and I was…I'm not the same person when you aren't around. And the first encounter I had with him, I got…carried away."

Everything. He told her everything, even the bits he'd never wanted to say out loud again because they were the embarrassing actions of someone who clearly was driven not by intelligent thought but emotion. Once he started, he didn't stop. And she listened, interrupting only once to gape "you put him in the hospital?!"

He'd nodded, answering truthfully and honestly, but also fearfully because he could already see the gears in her head turning before she concluded. She took in his confession, his own private priest. But whether or not she'd forgive him…

"You're angry…" he noted without surprise when he was done. "I can see it in your eyes."

"No," she argued, still looking stunned. "No, I'm not angry…" The way her voice trailed off suggested that she wasn't entirely what she was sure she was feeling, but he knew. He knew that look she wore now, and it made him want to cry because he knew the implications of it.

She understood. The compassion that Lacey lacked but she had in abundance was working its way through the dreadful details and leaving her with an understanding that he knew wouldn't just be for him.

"Belle…"

She glanced back at him with that understanding, there wasn't a hint of condemnation or hatred to be found for him. His Beautiful Belle, his ever-faithful True Love, soon-to-be ever-forgiving wife. It just might be that there was nothing she couldn't forgive him for. Hell, when enough time had passed, and this was all behind him, she'd likely understand his deceit with the dagger and murder of Zelena. But that realization was a double-edged sword. Because if she could forgive him for anything, then she could forgive anyone for anything…whether they deserved it or not.

"You're going to talk to him, aren't you?" he realized suddenly. The man who had kidnapped her off the street and tried to erase her memories…

"Don't worry about that now…" she dismissed. With a shake of her head, she extended her arms to wrap around him so they might draw closer together again. "Just go back to sleep," she urged. "Rest with me for another hour or so before we have to go face our demons or witches or Yaoguais. Please?"

They'd be late for the photographer if they did that. But after bearing his soul and somehow, miraculously, finding himself right back in her arms, he didn't care if they kept the photographer waiting until lunchtime. Oh, he wanted so badly to marry this woman. He'd do it here and now if he could.

"I love you, Belle," he whispered as he held on tight and let her fall back to sleep.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 33: Future Planning

He would have thought that bringing an end to Zelena would have given him peace. He'd assumed that falling asleep, not just in his own bed, but in the arms of his beloved, was enough to ease his mind until dawn's light. But even as he slept, images flashed through his mind, a near-constant torment incomparable to spending day after day in the cage of her basement.

Baelfire's fingers slipping through his own.

The Seer walking into the light.

His hands on Zelena.

Her laugh.

Her voice.

Her grin.

Baelfire's eyes glazed open.

He was awake.

Belle was not.

In the days when she'd been new to his life, new to their life, they'd always waken when the other had nightmares, yet now she slept on. That was probably normal, given the year they'd all endured, the year he'd put her through. She wasn't immortal like he was, she needed the rest.

He needed the rest too. But to risk closing his eyes or settling in when the voices in his head were clamoring and shouting at him…it wasn't going to happen. He needed to get up. To move. But the grip Belle had on him was like iron. To break it would certainly wake her, and he didn't see any reason why her rest should be disrupted just because his own was. So, he did what long ago he'd promised her he'd never do again, just this one time, he used magic to keep her asleep and extract himself from her embrace. He tucked her in carefully, then grabbed a pair of pants and left the room.

With nothing but time on his hands, he wandered, looked into each bedroom, dragged his fingers along the banister, checked the refrigerator. His home was his own, just as he remembered it, but he felt strange standing in it. The scent of Belle was heavier than his own. The organization and cleanliness were traces of her, not him. It made him feel like he was the intruder, like he was the one just visiting until he laid eyes on the door to the basement…and wondered…

If everything else was just as it had been before the Curse, then was it possible everything was just as it had been?

The feeling of his own, familiar magic flaring to life the second his fingers hit the knob was comforting. And quietly cracking open the door and smelling his own scent among the musty stale air was welcome. Though his logical mind rebelled at the idea of taking refuge in yet another basement, his legs carried him down the steps and into his former workspace. Emotions too great to comprehend overwhelmed him and threatened to bring him to tears, but he shoved it away and walked forward. He let his fingertips draw shapes in the dust on the wooden tables, and gave his spinning wheel a gentle push, only to stop it when its predictable squeak made him want to cry. His eyes trailed over the books on the shelf, their titles and authors easily recognizable even if they weren't written on the spine or organized alphabetically or by the dewy decimal system or whatever tool Belle preferred. But his gaze also lingered on the spot on the wall where a safe space was magically carved out and hidden. He didn't need to open it to know that the two books he'd stashed there about his mother were present, unlike in the Underworld, where that safe space had been empty and the shelves had been full of the other books about the Black Fairy he'd destroyed once upon a time.

Alone in his room, sitting on the stool to his wheel, the same wheel he'd once sat at with Bae upon his knee teaching him to spin, he wondered if Baelfire would discover his former abode in the Underworld. As far as he knew, his son never crossed the threshold of his house, never even knew where it was. Though he'd imagined family dinners, he knew that would never be. And now that he knew what was on the other side, now that he'd gone to the Underworld and come back only to lose one of the things he was most eager to save…he shuddered to think of Baelfire in that place. Cold. Alone. Finding the cemetery, working through his unfinished business, facing that fire to get to the light…

He shuddered again, but this time it wasn't in the images in his head that summoned the gesture, but rather a familiar itch at the back of his neck. He'd been kept in a cage and watched long enough to recognize the feeling of being watched once more.

"What are you doing here?" he muttered without turning to look at who they might have chosen to send this time.

"We appear in moments of doubt. You'd think you'd realize this by now…" Nimue answered in a tone that was both bored and condescending all at once.

Fuck would he never be free?!

"Congratulations, Rumple, you made it out alive…this time at least," the former Dark One taunted, making her way around the table and into his line of sight.

"Yes, no thanks to you. If you have a point to make, then make it."

"Because you're so busy wallowing in your own grief…"

Yes. And because he didn't feel like kowtowing to her when he had yet again proven himself to be stronger. If he wanted to wallow in his own grief, then he'd fucking wallow…

"Get to your point."

She stood before him, looming as close as she could with the wheel between them. "You're slipping," she accused. "You've always been one of the strongest of us, but your heart has always made you weak. The boy is gone. Now, instead of intelligently taking advantage of the situation and cutting all ties to the girl, you've chosen to bind yourself tighter to her."

A small huff of amusement escaped him, and he shook his head in wonder. How could someone who lived in his head have such a pathetic understanding of who he was after all these years?

"I need her."

"Dark Ones need no one."

"This Dark One does."

"For what purpose?" she argued. "The aim of the Dark Ones has always been to eliminate Light Magic. But every Dark One has always had some other goal, something they've worked for that made the magic necessary in the first place. Yours has always been that boy. First, you save him, then you lose him. Then you brought that Curse upon the land, and you found him again, but at great cost. What purpose do you have now other than the one that's been set before every Dark One?"

"Merlin's Tower is a bit out of reach at the moment."

"A fact I readily acknowledge and is part of the point I want to make."

This conversation was beginning to sound familiar. How could he have made it out of this situation only for her to still doubt him?!

"If you are about to suggest, again, that I hand the dagger, and the power, over to someone else, then you've lost your mind."

"Never as much as you have."

The muscles in his hand twitched with tension. Tension and need. If she wasn't already dead, he'd choke the life out of her with his bare hands for a comment like that.

"Where is your head at, Rumple?" she went on. "There's no more future for us to read inside, no one to tell us where to go or what to do anymore. Not to mention, you carry with you the sins of the past. That black heart of yours will last us…what? A few more months? A year maybe, before it takes over? Not a single one of us has ever lived to see the consequences of a truly black heart to know the full extent of its threat to society. And what's your plan? You want to marry the girl only to turn into one of the darkest, most dangerous creatures to walk the earth?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Yes, because planning to plan is surely sufficient enough."

Yes, in this particular case, after everything he'd been through…he was somewhat sure it was! And she couldn't understand it, none of the Dark Ones could, because she'd said it herself that none of them had ever faced this down before. They'd been spectators as he'd lived his life, but they'd never actually lived it themselves. They'd watched it play out like the audience of some television soap opera, invested perhaps, but unaffected by it.

He was aware of the condition of his heart. And now that Zelena was dead, he intended to return that dagger to Belle at the first opportune moment, and his plan from there was to hope that she'd keep him in the right when his heart went bad. And if that plan failed, then he wanted to live out the rest of his days with as much happiness as he possibly could. He deserved to live out the rest of his days with that happiness. And if he couldn't have Baelfire by his side, then he was damn sure going to marry the love of his life and have her.

"Live," he answered, glancing up at the demon before him. "My plan is to live. No matter how painful or difficult it may be, no matter how much longer my heart has. I plan on living."

Nimue sneered at the suggestion like it was a rotten smell. Anger flared behind her gaze as she reached her hand out and curled her fingers over the great wheel between them. "Well, then you better start making plans for that, Rumpelstiltskin," she muttered in a sinister, threatening tone. "Because if you think that a man like you can settle into a quiet life with a wife, have a few more babies, a white picket fence, perhaps…then you are more foolish than we ever imagined you to be. Someone will come for you. All magic demands a price, and you can't hold onto yours without paying. They'll come for your wife and your children and that life you desire. "

Enough.

"Can you not allow me even a night of peace?" he demanded, staring back at her.

A smile curled at the corner of her lips. "That's just the thing, though, isn't it, Rumpelstiltskin? We both know that if you were looking for peace, you wouldn't be down here, now would you…" Then she turned, and looked over her shoulder into the dark recess of space below the stairs. Slowly her neck craned over to him. "So long as you're just stewing, you might as well get to work."

Curiosity was what drove him from his seat, to follow her gaze and pull free, for the first time since he'd been in this world, a familiar trunk, one that had never belonged to him, but was in his possession all the same. He knew what lay inside, which was perhaps why he hadn't opened it since coming to Storybrooke. Inside that chest lay tome after tome of writings, centuries of knowledge, including his own, carefully prepared and passed down from one Dark One to the next.

He sighed as he looked the trunk over. He wasn't ready to give up his power yet, he wasn't ready to concede defeat. But then again, the Dark One Chronicles weren't just about passing down a legacy. They were about knowledge. And after his time in the Underworld, he couldn't deny…he had plenty of knowledge to give.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of time

Chapter 32: Love Changes Everything

Freedom had never tasted so good. It was remarkable to him just how quickly his biggest fears could slide away. How his worries could evaporate, and all could feel right with the world with just a twist of his dagger. Better yet, he was amazed at just how easy it had been. Of course, the others would notice that Zelena was missing when they stopped by, he assumed the next morning. And yes, he naturally would be the first suspect. But with Regina confirming that she'd given the dagger to Belle and Belle able to convincingly confirm she had it, then it would be all too easy to convince his accusers that he wasn't responsible. And as far as convincing Belle…he had her trust. He may have broken it for this, but it was the last time. From this point on, they were going to have the kind of honest relationship teenage girls at slumber parties dreamed of having. With this weight off his shoulders, he knew that was going to be easier than ever.

But as for convincing her tonight that he hadn't used the thirty minutes he'd had away from her…he was going to need every second of the rest of the time that he had to make it look so good she'd never think twice.

He used magic to get himself home. If he had more time, then he might have reveled longer in the fact that he'd used his magic for his own desires so freely. But he only had twenty more minutes until Belle returned, and he had no doubt she'd return on time.

The first order of business was to run upstairs. To shuck the terrible suit he had no interest in ever looking at again off his body. He paused only to remove the necklace he'd been carrying in his pocket and set it aside. Then he set the water in the shower to the hottest temperature it could go and scrubbed every last inch of himself. Though time was of the essence, he worked the lather over his skin until it was red and raw, until his hair felt squeaky and clean, until he no longer felt any bit of Zelena or her magic or her cage lingering on any bit of him.

Finally satisfied, he pulled on a new pair of pants and socks. He buttoned down a new shirt and tucked it in before carefully picking up the necklace from where he'd left it on the counter and dropping it into his pocket. Fresh and feeling more like himself than he had in over a year, he gathered up the clothes that Zelena had forced him into, everything right down to the shoes he'd been wearing, took them downstairs, tossed them into the sitting room fireplace, struck a match, and watched them burn. Time may have been of the essence, but he had enough of it for that.

Once he was happy with watching the fire consume his offering, using only a little extra magic to burn the shoes and contain the smoke, he left the roaring fire alone and entered the kitchen.

As always, they didn't have much food in the house. But with his magic back in his control, he summoned what he needed. He summoned his cell phone to his hand as he worked so he could make a call, something she wouldn't realize he'd done until the next morning, then cut a few corners, and by the time he heard his car pull into the driveway, not only did he have an appointment with a writer for the Storybrooke Mirror scheduled for tomorrow, he had a lovely, creamy alfredo fettuccine prepared as well. It may not have been much, but it was the furthest thing in his mind from meat pie, and that was all he cared about. That and…

He heard the front door open and close and wandered out into the hallway to find Belle standing in the foyer, looking into the sitting room. She was staring at the fire in the grate, now ablaze only with logs and the ash of cloth and leather, with a smile on her face, jaw opened in joy.

But that smile was nothing compared to the one that she gave him when he uttered the words, "You're home," and she turned to find him standing there. Though he'd startled her, she was quick to recover, quick to return to his arms and kiss him as though they'd never parted. Being away from one's True Love would do that to a person.

For that reason alone, he indulged her. He leaned into her embrace and returned her affections all the while a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Hers was a mouth he'd never mind kissing. And she was the only woman he'd never mind having dinner with…especially when her stomach rumbled with hunger as it did.

"I have dinner," he explained, managing to tear himself away from her. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, her stomach let loose another growl, and after they'd both laughed at it, he dismissed her to the couch and went back into the kitchen to retrieve their food and some wine to go with it. She thanked him when he returned, and for several long moments, there was silence as they sat together on the sofa in the firelight. They ate their fill, drank to their hearts' desire, and let themselves take in all they could of the company they offered one another.

"Did you know?" she finally asked as they both got down to the dregs of their bowls. He lifted his gaze and gave her a curious look, trying to figure out what she was talking about. "Did you know you were going to ask me to marry you, or did it just happen?"

Now that question couldn't help but draw a smile out of him. How did she have such a talent for finding easy questions with complex answers?

"Both," he smiled. "I hadn't exactly planned it, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it."

"When?" she pressed. "Since last year? Since I told you-"

He shook his head, quickly cutting her off. "Since before the town line," he admitted happily. This conversation was beginning to remind him of the time years ago they'd sat on this couch and reminisced about when they knew they'd fallen in love with each other. When he considered the nightmare he'd been living in the last week, having dinner with her and talking about this, felt like a dream. "It had been a fleeting thought, something that snuck up on me after you helped me hide the dagger, the morning after I told you about Cora."

He saw her eyebrows lift in shock as she considered his words. She was quiet, but he intended to leave her even more speechless. He set their dishes aside and moved closer to her as he reached into his pocket.

"I have something for you. I nearly forgot…"

Now that was speechless! As he held out the necklace, her jaw dropped. Tears formed in her eyes as she stared at the chain twisted in his fingers and the pearl that hung from it. And then-

"You kept it with you!" she breathed, reaching forward and taking it from him, confirming that it wasn't just him, she had her memories back too.

"It hasn't left my side since you gave it to me," he assured her. "In madness and mindlessness, I knew it was yours and…you bring me peace, my Beautiful Belle. You have seen me at my worst in more ways than I knew were possible, and even then, you always managed to bring out the best in me. You are…"

He didn't have the words. How ironic. He'd set out to make her speechless, and in the end, he was the one that didn't have the proper vocabulary to tell her that she was everything to him now; his peace and his joy, his family and his only friend, his pain and desire. Her loyalty disarmed him. Her kindness changed him. Her beauty stunned him. There was no singular word for what she was. There was only...Belle.

Before he could utter a word, she moved closer to him, placing a hand on his knee and using the other to push his drying hair out of his face. She examined him carefully in the firelight, observing his features in a way that made him feel completely naked to her. That look on Zelena always made him shiver. It did with Belle, too, but for a completely different reason.

"We can go to sleep," she suggested softly. "Maybe we'll both be able to rest in a real bed tonight."

He nodded as he turned to kiss her palm. He hadn't told her that he hadn't slept in a year. And yet she knew. And she wanted to fix it. He did too, but not right now. Not tonight. On this night, he wanted something else entirely, something that would drown his sorrows and make him forget everything that had happened since he'd returned from the Underworld.

"Eventually," he replied before closing the distance between them and kissing her deeper than he had all day.

Eventually. Eventually, he'd feel like sleeping, but for right now, the idea of a "real bed" appealed to him for a very different reason. They were here, together for the first time in a year. Tonight, the goal he'd set for himself ever since before his most precious treasure had taken that tumble over the town line was complete. She was going to be his wife, and he was going to be her husband. Soon enough they'd be married and sharing a life together. Things wouldn't always be this glorious between them, not when everything came to light, but for now...

If he couldn't be at Granny's with her on his arm, watching his son with his grandson, then he just wanted her. To remember that she was his and he belonged to no one except the woman that held his lips captive against her own.

He'd kissed Zelena, but he didn't feel a twinge of guilt over it because they hadn't been real. They'd been a distraction. A distraction that left such a terrible taste in his mouth he felt like he needed to wash his mouth out with soap…or maybe just have his Belle erase every lie he'd planted with his mouth with a truth.

They'd always been eager for one another, ever since the first night they spent in this house, they'd never been shy or held back. He couldn't say that he was terribly surprised to find her mouth opening and her tongue probing his own. He couldn't say that he was shocked to find her easing back against the couch and his body moving closer to hers in an effort to close the distance. Who needed a bed? They had a fire lit; they'd keep plenty warm! The couch, the floor, hell, the dining room table would do so long as he could have her close again. So long as he could show her just how much he loved her, just how much he missed her.

He lost track of time against her. Their lips moved over one another until they were raw, and he let his hands roam over her body. He grabbed fistfuls of her hair, traced the contours of her back, and pulled her closer at the waist, wanting her to part her legs in some way so they could be closer. It was only by miracle that he managed to pull away from her mouth and trace his lips over her cheek, up the curve of her jaw, and finally down her neck. She let out a small sigh as her arms tightened over his shoulders, and he didn't need to see her face to know that she was smiling bright enough to blind him. He could feel her again. Her soft skin, her radiant muscles, the rapid pounding of her heart, the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing became more and more desperate. He moved his mouth over her collarbone and was about to start popping open the buttons on her blouse to reveal more skin when she whispered.

"I have something for you, too."

He couldn't stop kissing her, even with the declaration. He didn't want to. So, he hoped what she had was warm and wet, because he had something for her at the moment that needed that particular kind of tight heat.

"Really?" he managed to question against her skin. "What's that?"

Suddenly she forced him to stop as she pulled away from him and looked him up and down, a smile breaking over her face as she studied his own.

"It's a surprise," she whispered as she began disentangling herself. "But I need a minute before you come upstairs."

A surprise. Upstairs. A minute.

No. No, he was done with surprises for the night, he could live without it. He shook his head, turning her offer down easily.

"I don't think I can bear a minute," he explained.

He wanted to lean forward. To draw her deep into another kiss that would erase everything that had happened in the last year, that would let them pick up where they'd left off if his father hadn't switched places with his grandson. But the minute he tried she managed to leap to her feet.

"You'll manage," she insisted, straightening her skirt. "Come find me in a minute…"

And then she left him on the couch staring into the fire. Her footfalls were quick on the stairs, and he looked around the room.

A minute. What on earth was he supposed to do with a minute? Especially while she was upstairs doing…whatever it was she was going to do in her minute?!

The dishes sitting on the table, he could clean them…no, that would take longer than a minute, or the fifty seconds he had left.

What could he do in forty-five seconds? Think of her? Wonder what she was doing? No, he could lose track of time that way.

Thirty-eight seconds.

Thirty-five…what could he do with-

Lock the door! That's what he could do, he could lock the door!

Whatever she was planning required them to both be upstairs, and he highly doubted they'd come back down here for anything.

No matter what she was doing, waiting a minute was long enough he wouldn't wait for another one. So, he quickly pushed to his feet, locked the front door, checked the back door, daring anyone to intrude on them tonight, went back into the living room to find he had twelve seconds left, then doused the fire he'd created with a bit of magic.

Nine seconds. Surely by the time he made it up the stairs it would be five seconds later.

Four.

Three.

Two.

He pushed the door to the darkened bedroom open and let his eyes adjust to find her. But she wasn't there. She was in the bathroom and when she opened the door to reveal herself…

He felt his lips part in awe as his mind went blank. His only fleeting thought…that minute had been worth every second.

He'd always thought that the look of his radiant Belle in lingerie just might kill him…he was wrong. In fact, he felt every beat of his heart in a way that had never made him feel so alive!

The room was dark, but the full moon let him see everything so that he didn't even need to use magic. "The surprise," she'd chosen to don for him, he'd seen it already, just once before. It was the black nightie that Lacey had once put on to try and get Mr. Gold to sleep with her. He'd managed restraint then as he'd pretended to sleep because Lacey just wasn't his Belle, but now!

Now he looked. He let himself notice how nothing was left to the imagination. The black lace was see-through. Her breasts, the curve of her waist, and even her belly button were all clearly visible in the pale moonlight. And they only got more and more detailed with every step that she took toward him.

"A surprise indeed," he managed to choke out after a nervous swallow. His mouth had gone dry suddenly. "You look beautiful," he commented, reaching out to take one of her hands and wishing he wasn't so much of a man and could stop staring at her like some dumb-witted teenager. It was just a piece of lace! They had done this before, too many times to count! But for him, she was a temptress each and every time that threatened to tame the beast within him and bring out another beast of sorts that only she'd ever really mastered.

She beamed up at him as her hands found his chest and then quickly moved to encircle his neck. She was blushing, sexy without trying, just downright gorgeous with that innocent smile on her face.

"Lacey made it," she explained quietly.

"I know," he breathed, tracing the skin on her arms and wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms. But instead, she pulled back and looked him over with shock, leaving him confused as to what he'd said to put that look on her face. What?! What had he said?

"You weren't asleep that night…" she breathed, sounding astonished.

That night…

It took him a while to work through what she was talking about, mostly because the blood he needed to work his brain was currently working on another part of his anatomy with her dressed like that, but eventually, he put it together.

He hadn't been asleep that night…the night that she, Lacey, would remember…the only way he could know that Lacey had made this. She didn't realize until now that he'd been faking. That was simultaneously disappointing and amazing.

"No," he confirmed with a smile and a shake of his head. "No, I wasn't. But I…I-I couldn't-"

She didn't let him finish telling her that he couldn't sleep with Lacey, that she hadn't been the one he loved, and next to the woman he did love, that girl was simply that…a girl. The woman he loved was far better than having a one-night stand with a girl like that.

He wanted to tell her, wanted to make sure she knew that without a doubt! But it was difficult when she had her body pressed to his, her mouth moving against his, kissing him as she muttered "I love you" where he should have his say.

But it was those words that made him pull away, that forced him off of her. No. Not the words exactly. It was the tone with which she'd said them. It was grateful. Like she couldn't believe he would have done such a thing, but…

Did she really not get it yet? Did she truly not understand until now what had happened?

"Beautiful Belle," he muttered, reaching up and rubbing a thumb over her cheek. "You are the most stunning creature I have ever seen in my life. Lacey had every bit of your beauty, but you'd be amazed at how horribly unattractive she was to me. You know you are beautiful, I don't need to tell you that, though I gladly will until the day I die, but it is your soul that shines brighter than any beauty you or any woman could possibly hold. I'm sorry for those in your life that have refused to see that, but overwhelmingly happy that I do get to see it."

She smirked and he could see the traces of happy tears building in her eyes as she looked at him. "You're the only one who knows me," she whispered. "Truly understands me in every way."

"As you and you alone understand me, my Beautiful Belle," he assured her.

She offered a small smile and blush, looking just downright pleased at that admission. Then ran her palms up his chest and opened his shirt further, to place her hand against his skin. It felt heavenly.

"You peeked?" she questioned. "When I was Lacey, you peeked?"

He smirked, but only because it wasn't what she thought it was, and he found the idea that she was jealous of Lacey humorous. Yes, he'd looked. As Lacey had turned and huffed off, he'd gotten a "peek." But he hadn't really seen her then as he was tonight, and "peeking" hadn't really been the point. Besides, even if it had been, what would he have seen he hadn't already seen, or touched, or even kissed before?

"It was still you…" he reminded her. "Nothing I hadn't seen before."

She reached up and kissed him again, softly, seductively. "But you never did get the chance to take it off," she whispered in his ear as he hugged her and moved his mouth back to her neck.

He pulled away and let his eyes linger on her for a second, gift-wrapped so prettily and all for him...hell, he'd never known something like that would ever matter to him as much as it did now. No, he had not gotten to take it off. And now that she'd put the thought in his mind, he was already busy imagining exactly what that would look like and feel like to remove the thin layer between them and put his mouth everywhere in delicious ways. Where to begin? He didn't care, he just wanted to start somewhere!

"I intend to rectify that immediately…"

"Immediately?!" she joked with excitement in her voice as her fingertips grazed his skin. "So…what are you going to do to me?"

Fuck. The last time he'd heard those words, the last time she'd asked that question, he'd told her he never wanted to see her again. He was lucky she was strong enough to see past that. But at the moment, taking off her clothes could wait until he'd rectified that memory first.

"I'm never going to let you leave my side, again," he assured her, wrapping his arms around her waist tight enough to hold her in a vise.

She responded by reaching up and drawing him down into another deep kiss that he never wanted to break away from. But she did, rather, merely left his mouth to plant a trail of kisses across the exposed skin of his chest. "Oh, Belle," he heard himself groan as his fingers tightened against her waist. She'd given an extra little nibble in just the right place, and it set his mind reeling...she really was getting almost too good at this.

But just as his breath had started to hitch, she pulled away from him entirely and eyed him suggestively before she slowly turned and trotted over to their bed. She pulled back the covers, and stacked their pillows in the middle of the mattress, silently declaring that they no longer had designated sides so long as they slept in each other's arms, then he watched as she slid into the bed and reclined. With a final sigh, she held her arms open for him.

Without a thought, he followed after her, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on the blasted shirt he put on as he sat down next to her on the edge of the bed.

"You truly are the greatest temptress I've ever been faced with," he sighed when she scooted closer to him, reached out, and pulled him against her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and breathed in her scent, felt the familiar curves of her body…

Curves he wouldn't know yet if they were in their land.

They were engaged. There was no doubt tonight would be special in his eyes, but as he felt her move closer to him, he suddenly wondered if this was the right thing to do. He couldn't make her a virgin again; he didn't want to and imagined that even though he could with magic, she wouldn't want him to. They'd had sex more times than he could count, but now they really were engaged, there was a wedding in their future and a wedding night. Would jumping right back into bed with her spoil that?

"Are you sure?" he asked, pulling away from her and rubbing his thumb against her cheek. "We could wait…until we're married," he clarified when he saw confusion across her face.

But she only reached up and kissed him again, kissed him deeply, giving her a clear answer. She was sure. And frankly, so was he. Every time was always special to them. With or without this night, their wedding night, when it came, would be its own breed of special, she'd make sure of that.

He kissed her back just as eagerly as she kissed him and nearly sighed in relief when her hands began to work the zipper and button on his pants, assuring him that there was no possible way he could wait until their wedding night.

He picked up where he'd left off downstairs, nuzzling her neck and kissing every inch, every bit of skin that was within reach until she whimpered and sighed herself at the motions. Oh, how he'd missed being with her like this! He didn't want to waste any more time!

He found himself moving without ever giving himself permission to. He pushed the blankets aside, she pushed clothes off of his hips, and together they let them land in a heap on the floor as he joined her in their bed. She all too happily crawled into his lap, letting him press against her as their arms tangled together and they ground together in familiar motions that nearly made him burst into tears. She hit every nerve just right...

Had he really only been lying in a heap on the floor of Zelena's cellar this morning?

He chased the thought away by gathering the lace fabric at her waist into his hands. "Marry me?"

She smiled at the request and nodded happily. "Yes," she breathed.

He reached forward to kiss her again, and she held her arms over her head so that he could finally remove the thin scrap of cloth and cast it aside as she wanted. She was just as perfect as he remembered her, and he quickly found himself reaching forward to kiss her neck as he covered her breasts with his palms, feeling the sensitive nipples in his palm peak for him just as they always had. He uncovered them, sat back, and stared at the beautiful surprise gift he'd just unwrapped and couldn't tear his gaze away from her.

Perfection. So much more than Lacey ever would have been.

"Gorgeous, well worth the wait," he whispered before reaching forward and skimming his lips over her neck and jawline again. He never wanted to waste a single minute that he could have kissing her.

"I love you," she whispered. And he loved her too. He loved her so much he didn't have the words to tell her just how much he loved her. But he had the actions. So, without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, clutched her tight to him, and lay her out against the bed, careful not to let her head hit the nightstand. Her leg was hooked perfectly over his waist, making him suddenly aware that she still had one final black layer against her skin that he needed to remove to truly feel her against him.

In time. For now, he fit his body against hers and loved her. He let his hands trace over her outstretched arms. He kissed her mouth, her neck. He worked his way over her collarbone and settled on one peaked nipple before skimming his fingertips over her heaving ribs. "I love you, Belle," he whispered as his fingers slowly began to slide the lace black panties over her hips, down her legs, and lay forgotten, somewhere on the floor.

But they needed more than this, more than kissing and grinding. They needed completion-perfect harmony! And he knew that she felt it too as she gently pushed against him so they could right themselves, so she could recline against the pillows and make room for his hips between her thighs without worrying about kicking something off a nightstand.

Oh, he'd missed this. Them! He missed how well they fit together, how perfectly designed he felt against her body. He missed touching her, holding her hand, palming her breasts, feeling her waist, even hooking her leg over his waist, and feeling her stomach tighten in anticipation as they kissed.

"Oh, I missed you!" she exclaimed with a smile on her face, echoing his own thoughts as her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him closer as he kissed her neck again, scraping his teeth over her collarbone. "I need you!"

He needed her too! Now, then, in the future, always! He'd always need her! But at the moment, in one very particular way…

He didn't wait for her to join them this time around, merely took her desperate plea as permission to do it himself, to adjust her body to his own, to wrap his arms around her, force her back into an arch, and plunge inside of her heat.

She gasped at the motion, her hips tilting perfectly to welcome him as her arms tightened around him. She exposed her neck, lifting her breasts up as her shoulders dug into the mattress. He happily kissed that neck; happily moved his chest over her own her. It felt good beyond belief, every time it happened, it took him by surprise! But this time…

It felt so perfect to be inside her again…inside the woman that was so perfect he swore she'd been designed for him!

"I love you," she cried as she rocked her hips in encouragement, and they found their rhythm just as easily as if they had never lost it, never been apart, as if he'd gotten back from Neverland last night and none of this had ever happened!

The bond he'd broken, the one that he'd killed in himself as he'd died, it was alive again. It always had been there, but he felt as if all this time, it had been dormant. Now it was jumping to life, shooting sparks of electricity between them, binding them tighter together.

She was crying out, yelling something that he couldn't make out because he was too busy feeling hypersensitive to every inch of her body as the best orgasm he'd ever experienced washed over him; through him. He'd never come so hard in all his damn life, and it left his mouth hanging open, gulping in air as her teeth found his shoulder. Pain became pleasure when she bit into his flesh as they spasmed together. Pulsing inside of her like this was the most wonderful, best feeling in the entire damn world.

"Oh, Belle!" he finally exclaimed, his arms losing tension as he fell into her arms. After what he'd just felt, he didn't have the energy to hold himself up anymore, and as her arms came around him again, as she kissed his skin and ran comforting fingers through his hair and over his back, he imagined she probably didn't mind nearly as much as he always worried she did. "I'm sorry," he apologized, nevertheless.

She snorted at him, and he felt her shake her head. "Don't apologize," she ordered. "Stay as long as you want, I like holding you."

She liked holding him. Not his power, not his possessions, not what he could do for her, or how he could help her. She liked holding him. How had he stumbled around for so long, fooling himself with other women that had never said anything like that?

He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at her. They were here, together. They were home in each other's arms. They were content together in their bed. How had she changed everything in his life so drastically in such a short period of time?

"I never thought, not in one million years, I would ever find a woman that I wanted to share my life with, my future with, the way I do with you…" he admitted.

Her eyes flooded with tears at the acknowledgment. "You are the only one that I want to share my life with. I love you."

"And I love you, too," he parroted before leaning down to kiss her one last time because he couldn't stand the distance between them. And when he was done, he fit himself against her once more, letting her hold him as she liked. Her fingers worked their way through his hair, and every now and then, she felt the press of her mouth against his head. She loved him, and he believed it. Some things could change.

"You've never bitten me before," he muttered quietly, reliving the best part of their lovemaking and realizing they both were capable of change.

"It was an accident," she admitted. "But it's as much your fault as it is mine."

Probably. Every orgasm came with a price. He'd pay it.

"Shame that I will endure."

"I think I scratched you too," she added matter-of-factly.

"Scars I will happily bear if you'll marry me."

"You can ask me all you like," she whispered in his ear, "the answer will always be the same. Yes, I will marry you, and give you all my days and nights, my present and my future, my life and my heart. I want to be yours and only yours until the day I die. You're the only man I've ever loved, the only man who has ever understood me, the only one who has ever been inside me. We're meant to be together, and that is all that I want for us."

For the first time in his entire life…that was all he wanted too.

"Then let's have it," he surrendered, feeling grateful for her arms tightening around him.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Declicacies of Time

He would have stayed there with her for the rest of his immortal life, holding tight to her, never letting go. But they had an eternity never to let go of each other. And every moment that he stayed there with her was one second more that Zelena was on this earth. Breathing. Living. Alive. And he could not abide by that. He could not exist happily in a world where she also existed. By sunset, he wanted her out of his life and out of this world, every world, every time for good.

Given the way Belle clung to him, he knew that wasn't going to be an easy task. But somehow…somehow, he knew that he had to do it. And then, as if she'd read his mind, Belle pulled back, kissed him one more time, and let her forehead fall against his own. It was a miracle. A confirmation that he was meant to end Zelena.

Belle was crying. Probably not as much as he felt that he was crying, but enough that it made him smile to think-

A scream from just outside the shop made both of them jump, looking to the windows for whatever terror Zelena was causing…

But in the second he tuned his ears to the source of the cry, he recognized that the scream hadn't been one of pain or fear, but rather happiness. "Ding dong, motherfucker!" he heard the voice shout before another triumphant shout filled the air.

He squeezed Belle's hand in comfort, and a moment later, she turned back to him and wound her arms back around his body as they'd been before. Peace…

"There will be a party, I suppose," she muttered quietly. "To celebrate Zelena's defeat…"

Oh, given the history of Storybrooke, he had no doubts about that.

"That's all this town seems to do," he nodded. "Get into trouble and then celebrate when it was over."

A tradition he intended to fully embrace…just as soon as the trouble truly was over. The sun was going down. The clock was ticking on his vow. He just needed a few minutes…

"I don't particularly want to go," Belle admitted. "Do you?"

"No," he responded. Though it would be the perfect way to distract her for a few minutes, going to a party like that would inevitably pry more time away from her than he was willing to give. "No. Tonight is for you. For us."

Just as soon as he found a way to get the time that he needed and return to her.

And fortunately…he had a plan for that.

"Will you do something for me?" She nodded. "Will you meet me at home?"

He watched as she shook her head in surprise, reeling at his suggestion. "You're not coming with me?" she questioned suspiciously. Rightfully so, she was suspicious. This was the part where he had to tread carefully.

"No," he stated confidently, giving her his most dashing smile. "No, I need to do something first, for you. It's a surprise."

And that was an honest answer. It was only his hope that she'd either never learn the exact nature of the surprise or else learn it far enough down the line that she wouldn't care…

"You don't have to-"

"I know," he insisted before she could refuse. "But I want to. You deserve a special night."

"So do you."

"I'll have it, if you're there. If you let me do this one thing for you. Meet me at home. In half an hour?" he suggested, hoping that she'd believe he was simply going to get a head start going back to the house. That was part of the plan…just not all of it.

She was silent for a moment, looking him over like she expected the world would fall apart if they separated. Given their history, he understood that particular urge. But eventually, she nodded and reached up to kiss him one more time.

"You have half an hour and not a minute more," she whispered before abruptly taking her bag, placing her fake dagger within its depths, and leaving the store to cross the street. She wasn't pleased with this development, but she was giving in to it on the assumption that she would be. He'd make sure he didn't disappoint. After...

The second he saw her disappear into the library, he made sure the shop was locked and fortified it with his own protective spells and detection charms. Simple ones that would hold for the night and enable him to return and do them properly when he had taken care of his business. Then he left.

"The Station." That was where Regina said that Zelena would be. He had only a wing and a prayer that she'd be left unguarded, but he was prepared to use a sleeping spell on the off chance that she wasn't, or perhaps just wave his hand and freeze whoever had been left in charge of her where they stood. The possibilities were endless, but the outcome was never in doubt.

He used his magic to wander in and sought out the heartbeats within the station. A smile blossomed on his face at the single solitary one he heard. Zelena was alone. And now he had her right where he wanted her.

As he rounded the corner, he spied Zelena sitting with her back to him in the cell that once housed him, Regina, Emma, and Snow White, among others. It was fitting and oh-so-rewarding to see her behind bars for once. Especially when her back was to him, and she didn't yet realize that retribution had come for her.

But before he took another step, he paused to identify the magic at play. He had absolutely no intention of getting caught after the half-vow he'd made Belle. That meant he had to be smart about this. He knew there was no other way that everyone would simply leave Zelena sitting here alone without magic at play somehow. He sensed an entrapment spell, his own magic, deliciously being used to keep Zelena in the bars of the cell. There was a protection spell that reeked of Regina's magic, likely to ensure that others couldn't get in, but the type of spell Regina had used…it was easily manipulatable. It revealed her confidence in her sister's safety. True, he couldn't just walk through the barrier to get to Zelena, but he could still get through. And more importantly, because it was Regina's spell, he knew he could get out with just a few easy maneuvers. It would be as though he was never there. Perfect.

"Regina…I didn't expect you back so soon…" Zelena muttered sadly as he let himself walk out into the space. He sneered at the realization she still had no idea it was him. He liked that. He liked it very much.

"I don't imagine you expected me at all, dearie," he growled out, making her turn toward him and offer, of all things, a smile. What an interesting reaction to have!

"What are you doing here?" she questioned as if she had no clue…perhaps she didn't.

"What do you think?"

"You can't kill me, Rumple. I saw Regina take your dagger."

Ah…then she was just overly confident in the safety of the shadow her little sister offered.

He gave a little nod. "She gave it to Belle."

"And she wants me dead…" she assumed. Assumed, because all who held the dagger wanted it for malicious purposes, at least, that was her logic. Clearly, she'd never met his fiancé.

"No, of course not."

"Well, then…you'll have to do what she wishes," Zelena pointed out as if it was obvious. "If she has the dagger, you have no choice."

And there was the rub in her safety. "Yes…if she has the dagger…but she doesn't."

He summoned it into the hand he had settled at his back and revealed it to her, letting its magic seep into the air just in case she could still feel it. He wanted to make sure she knew it was the real one. But it wasn't necessary. The second she saw it, Zelena shot off the bed like a rocket and plastered herself to the other side of the cell as far away from him as she could manage to get…as if it was far enough. As if any distance was far enough...

"She only thinks she does," he explained as he listened to her heart tremble before him. He reveled in the way she smelled more and more like panic with every tiny step he took closer to those bars. "You see, um…my father taught me something, the only useful thing he passed on, a bit of sleight of hand called 'follow the lady.' Belle has a fake. This, however, is quite real."

At that, he let himself vanish from her sight. A heartbeat later he reappeared on the other side of the bars, now in the cell with her and no one else in sight to save her or stop him.

"Wait!" she hissed, her voice high as she panicked. "Wait! I'm powerless now. R-Regina's got my pendant. My magic's gone. I can't hurt anyone! I can't! Why?!" she cried when it finally became obvious that he wasn't going to just slip away and let her be.

He smiled as her eyes flickered down to the dagger now pointed right at her abdomen. All she'd said was true. She may still reek of magic, but it was a shadow of what it had been. Without that pendant…she was no real threat.

But as to the why...

None of what she'd said could ever undo the threat she'd been.

None of what she'd said would ever bring his son back to life.

None of what she'd said would stop him from getting his son his justice.

"Because I promised my son his death would be avenged," he answered in a whisper. "And Rumpelstiltskin never breaks a deal!"

He plunged the dagger into her stomach before she could respond. She barely had time to gasp before…odd.

He expected that, like most humans, a stab to the gut would be a slow painful death. Instead, the second he pulled the blade from her body, she seemed to crystallize. Trapped in that one painful position, her body became like porcelain or glass, a statue of who she'd been outside and in. Hideous and cold-hearted. He was nearly pleased with himself and whatever magic was at play when he heard something like the sound of glass rubbing together. There was a crack, a rumble, and then the glass began to shatter. It broke itself apart bit by bit, collapsing into itself as if it was dust at his feet.

Well…he half expected her to melt.

It was simple. Simpler than he'd expected it to be. No body. Only ash. He took a breath in and sighed in relief at the sight of it.

Zelena was no more.

With the use of the dagger, he made the cell door swing open and created a loophole in Regina's spell that allowed him to walk right through without alerting her to his presence. Protection Spells kept bad things out, not in. The last thing he needed tonight was to have Regina come running and find him lingering. Not when all was finally right with the world, and he had a date to get to.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 30: Tears of Pain and Tears of Joy

He was free.

Sort of.

It had been a year of hell, both literally and figuratively. A year of wanting to do what he wanted. A year of trying to get home. A year of dreaming of his loved ones. A year of regrets and misgivings and yearnings.

And disappointments.

Zelena still lived. The dagger wasn't in his possession, but, remarkably, he trusted that it would be soon enough. And he didn't give a flying fuck what Regina thought, that witch was right. She was going to die by his hands at his first opportunity.

But for now, he retreated. It was his own choice where to go, and he knew right where he wanted to be. Not at home. Not his car. He wanted to be back at his shop.

The magic that the Fairies put over it to protect Belle kept him from entering at first, but with a wave of his hand, he tore that spell apart and stepped inside.

The little bell rang out a joyful greeting of "welcome home" that he never thought he'd take for granted again. Part of him expected Belle to be there. Evidence of her was everywhere. For once the shop was clean, someone had taken every bit of dust from every nook and cranny and banished it elsewhere. It smelled of her. Her scent of lemons and roses was just as woven into the fabric of it now as his own was. And the back room…the back room was a mess. The cot was made but mussed from someone sleeping in it. One whiff told him exactly who that had been, confirming his suspicions from his outing for Hook. His black bag was on the table. One look and he knew various potions that he kept on hand as extras were missing. There were other things that lay out on the table, a few ingredients as well as bowls and a pestle and mortar that still had residue in it from something recent. And there were books that lay out on the tables in piles almost as tall as him, small paper markers stuck out between the pages. He grabbed one from the top and opened it to the marked section…it was about time travel.

At that realization, he lost his hold on reality.

Suddenly he was glad Belle wasn't here. He was glad he was alone in a place like this, glad that he could take a few minutes and let himself fall apart the way he needed to.

He wept. Harder and longer than the day he'd been told Bae had died at the hands of Tamara. His body carried him to the cot where he could let his legs go out from under him, and he could hold the pillow Belle had been using close, squeeze it, and let every emotion he had been suppressing out of sheer survival come pouring and tumbling and blubbering out of him.

He wept. And he wailed. And he let sorrow claim him as the Dark Ones silenced, and he reveled in all that was lost since the time that he'd last been in this shop.

He wept until his stomach hurt. Until his eyes burned. He wept until his body shook, and he needed air. He wept until there was nothing left.

And then he took a breath. And then another. And then another.

It hurt to breathe. Every beat of his heart felt like a betrayal. The part of his heart that contained his grief seared with every second that he lived and his boy did not.

This was the hard part.

He hadn't expected that.

In the last year, he'd faced challenge after challenge. He'd been trapped in the depths of hell and outrun Hades himself. He'd been separated from his family. He'd nearly ripped the foundations of magic apart at the seams. He'd been held captive against his will and made to do terrible things with his mind and his magic and his body. He'd danced on a piano wire to survive it. He'd been driven to madness, sharing a brain with his son and then given all his memories over to the woman who killed him.

But this…this was the hardest part. Living when his son did not. Going on when his son could not. Taking step after step knowing his son never would.

This was the hard part.

But dying for him, a Dark One, was not an option. Running away to be a hobbit somewhere was not what Bae would have wanted. He might not know the mind of his son for certain anymore, but the impression that his memories left behind told him that it wasn't right. To choose not to live when Bae had been denied the option…that was a terrible choice to make.

One breath. Then another, he pushed himself up off the bed, choking back the pain and tears that threatened him as he did. He felt light and off balance. But then he took a step. And then another. He measured his breaths as he moved about the back room, running his fingers over the table and bits and bobs he encountered there just to give himself another sensation to focus on. Then he moved out to the front room because he needed a break.

He wandered. And he let his mind wander as he did. He was only just beginning to consider going to the hospital to look for a familiar face and escape the seclusion when the bell behind him chimed. After the last year, the noise alone had him on alert, and he whipped his head up to look into the mirror, afraid of what he might see…

He was almost embarrassed to admit how long it took him to register the smiling face he saw reflected in the mirror as Belle.

A second later, he'd turned around, half expecting her to be a hallucination, but the second he realized she was still there, he moved to her, his body still drawn to hers even if his mind felt unworthy. He'd barely taken four steps as she ran across the room, set her bags down, and then threw herself into his arms. Or maybe, given how tight he was holding her back, he'd thrown himself into her arms. He didn't care which it was. All he cared about was that she felt real, and whole, and just as loving as she'd felt before all this madness had happened. He had so many questions about the last year. There was so much he wanted to know, but for now, he was just content to be in her arms, take in her scent, and have someone there to watch his back as he looked after hers.

"I knew you'd be back," she whispered in his ear as she ran her fingers through hair he suddenly wished he'd washed.

He had to fight back a snort of laughter at her words. Not because of disbelief or humor, but simply because it was either laugh or sob at the understanding.

Of course, she'd believed he'd be back. She always believed in him.

"Your unfailing faith…constantly astounds me…" he breathed.

After all this, he was certain that any other woman would have run as far away from him as fast as their legs could carry them. But not her. Not his Belle. No, she'd stand and face down a Wicked Witch threatening to kill her even after…after…

"And after everything I did…" he marveled.

"It wasn't you," she insisted. "It was…it was Zelena."

He wanted to weep again in gratitude that she saw it. But memories he couldn't spin away clawed to the surface. How good it felt to throw Hook into the trunk of that car. The way he'd schemed Orpheus' way out of the Underworld to deliver a hat to Jefferson because he hadn't been there for him. How he'd chosen who would die and who would live at Zelena's command. After he'd let Neal down. After he'd raged at her after the first time she'd kissed him…

"It wasn't always Zelena," he admitted, wishing desperately he could toss every bad decision he'd ever made off on her, but knowing that he couldn't. "I will never comprehend why you continue to stand by my side."

"I love you," she insisted without a moment of hesitation. "Always have…"

Always will…

Emotion swelled inside of him. The Dark Ones were issuing their warnings as they sensed something inside of him shift. He ignored them as he recognized it.

Now. The time was now.

It hadn't been perfect a year ago when he'd wanted to ask her, and it wasn't perfect now, but he'd be damned if he was going wait another year and let anything else happen to threaten-

Before he could get down on one knee, Belle glanced away and to her bag. Something was bothering her. Something he hadn't seen before now. But before he could ask what the problem was, she moved to her bag and pulled out…

The dagger.

The Dark Ones held their breath as she held it, as he did his assessments, looking for signs that it was a fake. It wasn't. It felt just as it always had. He was surprised he hadn't felt it when Belle initially walked into the shop, but now…he couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"How did you get that?" he asked, his voice suddenly hard to find.

"Regina gave it to me," she answered. "To…'to make amends.'"

That bitch. She'd promised she'd give it back to him!

"But also, because she knew I wouldn't abuse its power."

No, she wouldn't. Clever little hero. A heart like Belle's was the surest way to clear her conscious and make sure that sister of hers never had to fear him again.

"I want you to have it," Belle stated, unexpectedly thrusting it out to him.

The Dark Ones' interest piqued in his head suddenly, in shock and awe at what was being offered to them. It wasn't just freedom…it was revenge.

For the same reason it piqued their interest, it left him utterly confused as he stared down at it.

"Why?" he questioned, even as every single Dark One screamed in his head to shut up and take the damn thing already.

"Because I believe in you," she answered sweetly. Innocently. Unsuspecting.

For that reason alone, he almost didn't want to take it. He knew the second he got his hands on it, Zelena was dead. It was the one thing that he knew she'd trust him not to do! But he didn't think he could live with himself as long as she lived. But…

"It's yours," Belle urged. "You're a-you're a free man! Just promise me one thing…promise me you won't go after Zelena, you're…you know you're better than that."

Was he? Because he didn't think he was. And with a chance like this…

It's the promise of a silly girl, Rumpelstiltskin! Not a command! Take the dagger…there are so many loopholes around this deal it's almost too easy, Nimue hissed in his ear.

A way around the deal. A loophole. One to settle his mind and bloodlust and then…no more. Just this last time, and he'd be done. He and Belle could start a life together. An honest life with a good marriage. That was what he wanted. And with this dagger, he knew exactly how he could get all of it.

"Oh, Belle," she sighed as he grabbed it up out of her hands and looked down at it. He turned it over and over, his magic tracing it, mapping it perfectly. "What you are giving me is more than I could ever give you," he whispered. "But I will try."

He raised his gaze to meet her eyes, to make sure they were on his. With that distraction secure, he made the switch. His dagger, he stashed it in the back room as his magic quickly worked up a copy in his hands. He'd make it right. He'd make it all right in the end. It was just this last time. It had to be, because after tonight, he intended to never think again about Zelena or anything that lay before. Only what lay ahead…

What was that tradition from her village?

"This…this is trust," he stated, suddenly feeling like there was a frog sitting in his throat waiting to steal his words.

In her country, for a promise of an exchange of vows, a ring was not presented, but rather a symbol was presented to one's intended. This was a proper symbol indeed. And, with any luck, one that would solve a potential host of problems.

"It means you trust me with all your heart."

She nodded, her smile stretching ear to ear in a cozy sort of way that told him she hadn't yet caught on to what he was doing. "I do," she answered perfectly.

Perfectly.

"And I shall trust you with mine…"

An exchange of a symbol…

"Take it…" he insisted, holding it out before her, trying to remember the words a suitor would have said, words he was sure she'd recognize…

"I am now, and for all the future…yours."

He'd gotten them right. He knew he'd recalled them correctly the moment her eyes went wide and her breath hitched. She looked down at the dagger with shock and back at him in recognition...and doubt.

"Wait…what…" her smile vanished as her eyes fluttered. There was a suspicious twinkle in her eyes. Her heart was racing. "What are you saying?"

Only the thing he'd been dying to say for over a year now…

"Will you marry me?"

For a moment, he honestly wasn't sure if he'd spoken the words out loud or if he'd simply imagined them. The look of skepticism clung to her face like a child clung to its mother. But finally, the small smile on her face broke its bonds and stretched into a grin that was brighter than the sun itself.

"Yes," she smiled with a nod. "Yes!" She took the dagger away from him, but he was overjoyed to see her cast it quickly aside, back to her bag, away from them both before she repeated a happy "yes" one more time and then shot into his arms.

She kissed him, and he welcomed the embrace, returning her affection with every bit of the vigor that he'd wanted to for the last year of watching her. And when they broke apart, and they were content to go back to simply holding one another without any sense of who started it, he felt his pain mingle with the joy in his chest.

He was going to marry the woman of his dreams.

And his son was dead.

Yes…moving forward would always be the hardest part.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 29: An Unexpected Light Source

"This isn't over yet!"

He nearly sighed in relief when he heard David shout at the twenty-eight-minute mark. But at the sight of Emma, Regina, David, Robin Hood, and even Hook, he thought he just might cry.

About fucking time!

Though he wasn't quite sure what kind of force a girl with a bullet, two swords, one crossbow, and one magic-wielding half-sister were going to offer against Zelena with the Dark One Dagger. But...beggars couldn't be choosey. At least someone was going to make sure they went down fighting this.

"And who's going to stop me? Certainly not the Savior."

Emma looked like that comment stung. Given what he knew about their last encounter, as well as the fact that Hook stood there still very much alive, he was willing to bet that her plan had worked. Her magic was muted. But Emma was a strong woman, not easily prone to giving up or in. He watched as Emma swept her gaze over the room, landing on him and then her brother, before settling on David. "Go. Get him," Emma choked out. "We got your back."

"And I've got your heart," Robin Hood assured Regina almost romantically as both men broke ranks and began to move dangerously about the circle.

Dangerous…because of him. His magic was already beginning to come to life at Zelena's bidding. This wasn't going to be a long fight, but if just one of them was successful in rescuing either heart or child…it would all be over! And if someone could get that dagger from her hands, well...he'd be all too happy to put an end to all of this.

"Zelena! Stop, now!" Regina ordered as Hook and Emma advanced on him, and he automatically held his hand out to defend the portal. "We're not gonna let you succeed."

"Rid me of those pests!" Zelena commanded.

Freedom in his servitude…she hadn't specified how he was to rid them yet.

"Please, no more water," Hook requested as if he cared. He could fight her wishes a little for Emma and sacrifice Hook first if it had to! Anything to buy some time.

"Get the dagger. Then the Dark One will be on your side!" he pointed out as he sent Emma's gun sailing across the room when he stalled too long.

"It's easier said than done!" Emma insisted. Perhaps but there were still options, still several ways to win this even without her Light Magic, she had to see that!

"Do as I say, or I will destroy you both! I have no choice!" And then he tossed them both across the room and into some hay where the pair of them, unfortunately, would likely recover. Freedom within servitude. There! He'd incapacitated the "pest" that was the greatest threat, the magic within him was satisfied, but only for the time being. Arm still on the alert, he turned his attention now to Zelena, who was eyeing Regina with interest.

"Come for another beating, sis?"

"No. I came for some jewelry."

Jewelry. The necklace! Oh, thank the heavens they'd figured it out! But the second Regina made a step to come forward and threw out her hand as if to rip the fucking thing off her neck, Zelena angrily blasted her back and away.

With Regina down, Zelena finally noticed that David and Robin Hood were up again and moving ever closer to the baby and the heart. "Beautiful One! If you will…" Zelena called into the air.

For a moment, he prepared himself to resist again, but he didn't feel this particular command like he had the others. And then he noticed, up in the corner of the barn…there was something there, something screeching. Something his crazed mind had taken note of in the Dark Castle, but he hadn't paid any heed to until now. Something he hadn't been around until now.

The bitch actually had flying monkeys at her disposal!

One of them descended from gods knew where now, fluttering around, aiming for David and Robin.

"Remember, these creatures are our friends!" Robin yelled.

Really now?

"Don't worry, I'll use a gentle touch," David commented, reeling back with the sword.

Stop them! the command ran true in his head. Fuck!

"Unfortunately, that's not an option for me!" he lied. Just like Emma and Hook, he sent the pair tumbling back into a wall of hay. They'd get back up again, but he'd stopped them from harming whoever that thing was. And Zelena used it to her advantage to turn back to Regina. Oh, couldn't they see how carefully he was working! This could be so easy!

But in the blink of an eye, it didn't matter. Because one second, Regina stood there, ready to fight, and the next, Zelena had her suspended in the air, her magic gripping her around the throat. Oh, if Regina passed out and Zelena had the opportunity to commit all the energy she had to opening this portal-

"Only Light Magic can harm me, and you're as dark as they come," Zelena stated through gritted teeth. "It was your destiny to be this way and will also be your undoing!"

"Don't tell me what I can be!" Regina growled out despite the fact that her muscles were tense from fighting off Zelena's attack.

He held his breath, everything in him begging her to see what he saw. Robin Hood, quietly and carefully moving around the burning circle. Oh, all she had to do was fight logically, as he'd seen her fight the other night. Regina had no Light Magic, so she might not be able to win, but through logic, if she could continue to hold Zelena's attention long enough to keep her thoughts off the dagger, off of him and the portal, then she might be able to salvage the situation. She might be able to buy Robin the time he needed.

"I tried to be good once, but it wasn't in the cards," Zelena snapped as he eyed Robin, not a single bit of his magic itched to stop him. Heart, baby, dagger…if he could get his hands on any of those things, then all of this fell to pieces! If Regina could keep hold of Zelena's attention, then he could magic Robin far away to the town line where all he'd have to do would be cross, and they'd all be safe again. "This is who I am, and it's who you are!"

Oh, he thought he might cry. The magic of the portal began to die. He could feel it. And without even turning to look, he knew, just by the look on Regina's face, that Robin had done it. He'd taken something, removed it from its spot in the spell. He tried to rouse his magic, call it to him to send Robin away, but nothing budged. Her desire was blocking his will to help them. Now it was up to Regina. She was the only magic user on their side. She needed to get Robin Hood out of here and away from Zelena. Removing just one of her ingredients would stop all of this! But if she didn't do it soon enough…

"You're wrong, sis."

And then he felt it. A change in the air, something powerful and familiar, so familiar it had him glancing over at Emma. She was the only possible source of pure Light Magic in this godsforsaken barn, and it was a miracle that she'd overcome Zelena's spell but he'd-

But Emma had her wide eyes trained on Regina, in shock. When he followed her gaze, his own jaw nearly dropped as well. White light was coming out of Regina's palms, forming small little balls in the place where she might usually have called on her fire.

Light Magic.

Regina had Light Magic.

Cora's daughter, the one who had killed her own father to cast his Curse…she was their savior?

"What are you doing?" Zelena roared as Regina smiled unexpectedly.

"Changing," she responded.

The swell of magic he felt built rapidly, it grew and crested, and then-

He watched as a blast of white Light Magic flashed from Regina, slamming into Zelena with so much force he felt her breath leave her body!

He felt it...but only for a second. The connection was gone, broken.

And he realized the dagger had been knocked from her hand!

GO!

"What?!" Zelena cried as Regina stormed across the markings on the floor to the place her sister lay. He knew the feeling, he could hardly believe it either, much less tear his gaze away from what he'd seen. "How?!" she screamed.

Logic. Zelena, with her power, could have thrown a spell that would have Regina rocketing across the room, but instead, she'd been too stunned.

Because Regina was the better student.

"I make my own destiny," she explained, reaching out and pulling that emerald necklace from Zelena's neck.

For a moment, Zelena froze. Her eyes widened, and she fell backward into the floor as a green, mist-like magic flowed out of her.

He'd been right. He wasn't sure how, but somehow, she'd managed to bind her power to that necklace. It may have enhanced it while she wore it, but all magic came with a price, and now with it gone…so too was the Wicked Witch of Storybrooke. And he couldn't wait to show her the same mercy she'd shown Baelfire! Just as soon as-

With the emerald in Regina's hand, suddenly, the magical flames circling the portal died away completely. David made a beeline for the child. But the monkey who had been circling only moments ago, ready and willing to defend Zelena, was quickly falling from the sky, on a crash course with David, who pulled his sword and-

In the blink of an eye, the monkey was gone. Caught in David's arms was a giant, hairy man, looking around in confusion as David handed him his sword. "Little John, you're back!" Robin shouted as David reached his child and pulled the babe into his arms to examine it.

"David, the baby…is he okay?" Emma questioned as he held his own breath.

He. It was a he…a boy.

And he should be okay. The child had been meant to be the battery, and so while his magic might be drained for a while, the child should be intact since the spell had never gotten off the ground. Still a child that young…

"Yeah," David breathed, holding him in a way that made him cringe. He held the baby like a man who had never held an infant in all his life. But then again, he supposed, given the circumstances of Emma's arrival, this might very well have been his first time. "He can handle anything, just like his big sister."

Who's magic he'd be willing to bet was either already returned or would be in the days to come. All because…

All because the witch had been defeated.

But she wasn't yet dead.

He'd hardly noticed the way his legs had automatically carried him to the barn door entrance, as if he wanted more than anything to be out of there, but now his body turned back, the Dark Ones roared inside of him that he had to get the dagger first. They'd been screaming at him to do just that since it slipped from the witch's grasp, but all he cared for was making good on his promise, the vow he'd made for Baelfire. He wanted that witch dead!

"You failed," Regina laughed maniacally from above her sister. "You're not going anywhere."

"I beg to differ…" he knew of a wonderful town on the other side of death that would be happy to have her visit!

Finally, the Dark Ones reached out their magic to wrap around her ankle and pull her toward him, drag her through the muck and mud, the squaller she'd forced him to live in, to bounce off the holes she'd made him dig, to be just as humiliated as he'd been!

"What are you waiting for?" Zelena screamed at his feet. "Just do it!"

"With pleasure!"

"No!" Regina screamed across the room.

No!

A vise suddenly squeezed around his heart. The Dark Ones inside of him hissed as he felt his arm shoot back and away at…a command.

Foolish swine! Nimue snarled at him as he looked across the way to see Regina holding his dagger in her hands; his life and free will once more in the hands and the mercy of one of Cora's daughters. But while Nimue snarled and cursed and raged in his head, he tried to take a deep breath. Long ago, he might have felt the same way about Regina holding his dagger. Now he felt the situation was far different.

"Enough. This ends now," she ordered, though while she held the dagger, he could sense it wasn't a command. Just Regina reasoning with him for whatever reason he couldn't understand.

"After everything this witch has done…you're gonna protect her?"

"Good magic stopped her. And good magic doesn't exact vengeance."

"She killed my son!"

"How many lives have we taken trying to get what we want?"

Oh, for fuck's sake, he needed his Regina back! He needed the Villain that he'd created! One act of Light Magic, and now she was practically one of the Fairies?

"You can't be serious."

"I am. Heroes don't kill."

"So now you're a hero?"

He glanced down at the wretch who had uttered those disgusting words and sneered at just how upset she looked at the news.

"Today I am," Regina confirmed.

Villain once, villain always. It wouldn't last. And neither would all this…

"Very well…" he reached out his hand in her direction. "Give me my dagger."

"What…no!" Zelena plead.

"If you are a hero, then a hero wouldn't dare to force someone to do anything against their own will, give me my dagger."

"Regina…" Emma warned, her position clear in her voice.

"No," Zelena whined again. "He'll kill me. The first chance he gets, he'll kill me!"

"Enough!" Regina cried out, closing her eyes. After a slow, solid breath, she opened them again. She looked him in the eyes, then at Zelena, and then back at him. "You're right. A hero wouldn't force anyone to do anything against their will. But they would certainly do anything within their will to protect someone from harm."

He sneered, already sensing where this was going.

"Hey…when Zelena is safe, you'll get this back."

"When she's safe?!" he repeated. "Have you forgotten what she's just put everyone through?!"

"No, I haven't, which is why when Zelena is secure at the station, you will get this back, and we will pursue a fair punishment. I promise."

A fair punishment…his son was dead! Anything short of death would never be fair.

Unable to stand it anymore, he summoned up his magic and left the barn of his own free will.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: the Delicacies of Time

Chapter 28: Doing the Math

Only a moment after Zelena had gone into Mary Margaret's hospital room, a second after he heard noise from within, a new command reached him.

Back to the house.

He didn't fight it; he couldn't, even if he wanted to. So he let the magic that she commanded rouse within him and take him back to…

"Why are we here?" he asked, glancing around at the road leading up to the farmhouse. He didn't expect she'd want to be back here. He expected that she'd want to go directly to the barn. It was the smartest thing that she could have done! She had the child and the others knew, the faster she could enact her spell, the higher the chance of success! Why would she come back to the house?

"Why are we here? What are we doing? Where are we? My…aren't we just full of questions today," Zelena observed, not in his direction, but rather in the direction of the bundle she held in her arms, a child that was so new he smelled blood all over him. Him? Her? He hadn't even thought to ask. He didn't want to know. What was the point?

"If you want the child in the barn, why not just take it to the barn?"

"Because there's a spell cast over it to make sure that people can't get to it with magic," she pointed out. He recalled the protection spell she'd raised over the barn before they'd left to confront Emma and Hook. It was clever. But he wished it wasn't. "What?" Zelena questioned, suddenly looking over her shoulder at him. "You think I'd spend all my time working on this spell and then leave the portal without any protection? You think I'd allow someone to steal one of my ingredients while I was off getting another? No wonder Dark Ones have never managed to figure out time travel before."

A number of the voices in his head hissed at that statement. And another, the one he suspected had actually given time travel a genuine try…he didn't say anything, but he could feel the mental middle finger he flipped at the woman as she began to walk.

"A protection spell won't stop them from trying," he threatened. "And you know as well as I do that a spell as powerful as the one you intend to cast will draw that magic away from the protection spell. It'll act as a beacon to any who can sense magic in all of Storybrooke. They'll know right where to come."

"True," Zelena sighed. "But by the time they arrive, it'll be too late, and we will be safe in the past…won't we, little one?" she questioned, looking down at the sleeping child with a smile it couldn't see. His stomach turned when she began to hum to it. To the naked eye, it would look like she'd soothed the thing to sleep, but he could feel the magic seeping out of her, keeping the child calm and sedated as they moved.

"It's all right, little one. We're almost home."

Literally. Much to his surprise Zelena didn't go to the barn but rather walked up the stairs to her house and ushered the child inside. He stood to the side, thankful she wasn't ordering him to take part in this…disgusting behavior.

Cradling and cooing it was sick enough, given what she intended to do to it. But watching her wash the babe and swaddle him up tight again was a new sort of low. And watching her sit in a rocking chair with it, humming a joyful little jaunt as she fucking fed the thing…as a parent himself, he'd never been so angry.

"Eat up…you'll need your strength," she encouraged with a smile.

She'd ripped that child right out of its mother's arms before she'd had the chance to bond or feed or wash it herself. He knew the act alone would be devastating to Mary Margaret, but to watch the child's would-be murderer steal that small token of bliss from her made him want to strike her dead right then and there. So much so that he wondered if he could use his magic and stop her heart fast enough before she reached for the dagger to make him stop.

He hated that she was coddling it, preparing it for this. If this kind of magic had destroyed other fully grown magicians, what did she think it would do to a baby?! Whether or not it was well-fed would make no difference in the grand scheme of things.

And yet, a small hopeful piece of him was grateful for it. It was that small piece that stood back in the shadows, letting her act on her own behalf, watching the clock as Zelena finally burped the child and took it to the table to anoint it with…it smelled like oil of some kind. It was that small piece that was ecstatic with each and every step she took. Every second, every minute, was precious time that was wasted. Terrible as it was, it bought the others time, making her "by the time they get here, it'll be too late" threat a little less believable with every tick of the clock.

By the time she'd lulled the child to sleep, and they began escorting it to the barn, his mind was doing the math. Twenty minutes. He figured from the time that they'd left the hospital to now, Zelena had taken about twenty minutes of time. The others didn't know about the barn just yet, but the house was the first place they'd come looking for them. How far away was Zelena's house from the hospital? Twenty-five? Maybe twenty if David sped? It would be less if they could get Regina up and her magic working, she could get them here in the blink of an eye, but she'd need all the magic she had if she stood any hope at overpowering Zelena long enough to get just one of her precious ingredients from her and someplace she couldn't touch them.

Twenty-five minutes by the time they made it to the barn and Zelena lowered the protection spell saying simply, "Won't be needing that anymore." Twenty-five minutes. It was cutting it close, but he knew there was still time. Better yet, now that the barrier was down, he knew it was a possibility. No, they wouldn't know where to look now that they weren't in the house. But once the magic was started, it should be powerful enough to draw even Regina to it easily enough. It was a complication, but not a fatal one. He just hoped that help would arrive sooner rather than later.

The one time he needed Prince Charming to be headstrong and predictable…

"At last…the final ingredient. Innocence…" Zelena whispered twenty-six minutes later as she walked over to the western marking with the baby in her arms. "There's nothing more innocent than a newborn babe. And you, my sweet, are the most innocent of all…the product of the truest love," she remarked, setting the baby down. "See, once I change the past, you and I shall meet under different circumstances…"

He let out a huff.

So that was why she thought nothing of this act. In her mind, she wasn't killing the child she was simply…reimagining. In her mind, everything for this child would turn out the same way it had because she hadn't done nearly as much fucking research as she thought she had. Otherwise, she'd know just how entangled the events of Cora's life after she'd given Zelena away were with this child. Hell, she thought she was going to get Regina's life…she probably thought that in her version of the future, she'd be at the hospital with the others celebrating the birth of Little Charming Jr.

"And Rumple, you will choose me. And I will be enough."

All this for a choice that would never come to pass even if she was successful…what a waste.

"No, you won't," he contradicted as she moved into the center circle twenty-seven minutes later. "And no matter where you go in time, I will find a way to kill you."

He remembered enough to know that Baelfire had fucking hated her just as much as he did. He promised his son, for imprisoning them and taking Neal's life or erasing Henry and Emma from reality; either way, he'd be sure he killed her for this.

But Zelena only chuckled. Twenty-eight minutes after the child was born, she raised her hands to the sky and channeled his magic into her through the dagger. Once it touched each of the symbols, he felt a different kind of magic that he'd never felt before begin to flair. Literally. Fire erupted from each of the corners of the compass he'd etched out. The brain, sword, and heart were all shades of yellow and red, but the baby…that was bluish-white. Light Magic. The child was working as a battery. Just as Zelena predicted. Fuck.

As each of the flames swirled in toward the center of the circle, toward Zelena, he stood back and balked at it.

"Don't worry, dearie," she muttered. "Once all this is over, you won't remember a thing."

She'd been right. And now…now they were all doomed.