Chapter Text
Dark Castle
"It's just a cup." The Dark One re-plays this scene over and over in his mind. The first time she looked at him with a smile, without fear. She was right, the only thing left that he has of her. And it is indeed a prized possession of his. All of his gold can't keep him company or make him laugh. All of his "priceless" artifacts line the walls of the shelves of his castle, but only two have any real value. A chipped cup and a child's old worn cloak.
There were only two people Rumpelstiltskin loved, one was worlds away. So you could say there was only one person in the world that he loved. And now that he knows she is alive he has a decision to make. He moves to a magic armoire to retrieve the cloak. Both items sit side by side. If he saves the woman he loves, he may lose his son forever. After centuries of toil. But she CAN be saved, she is within his reach. Having lost her once, he is not keen to experience that pain again. But if he alters the plan, the future is murky. Regina may not cast the curse and if she does not, Bae will be lost. It is only a chance, but even so must be weighed.
Usually, he would find a way to have everything he wants, but he has only ever had one endgame. Now he needs to work towards two separate goals that may be at cross-purposes. Added to this is his desire to free her quickly before the Evil Queen takes her perverted revenge out on his Belle. He knows how twisted Regina can be; he should since he is the one who tainted that mold.
Decisions decisions. His glance flits back and forth between the items, a hundred thousand outcomes swirling and disappearing as he plots his course of action. It may not be possible to save them both. He has not found an answer. Reaching between worlds to find a boy lost so long ago has taken precise action, if he strays from his plan what will happen? More flashes of futures that will never be. More happy endings sacrificed without the lead characters ever knowing why fate robbed them. Fate didn't have as much to do with it as he did. Back and forth. Back and forth.
His large, inhuman eyes move right to left, left to right like the ticking of the clock. Cup. Cloak. Cup. Cloak. Left. Right. Left. Right. A mere mortal would be driven insane from all of the knowledge of worlds rapidly downloading into his 3rd eye. His gift of second sight. Although to be fair, most people would already describe Rumpelstiltskin as insane, or in the very least eccentric. He might be insane. He preferred calculating. Every action will have a profound consequence somewhere in the future. A future he has delicately crafted. “It’s just a cup.” He repeats this mantra over and over, willing it to be so. Staring at it only increases his longing. “It’s just a cup.” But he knows it has become so much more.
A terrible new development starts to unfold in his mind’s eye. Hook, an old enemy, is even now on his way to Regina's palace-with deadly intent. Cup cloak, cup cloak. Tick tock, tick tock.