There. She broke the Curse. Like many other first times, it was difficult, awkward, and it didn't go exactly as planned.
Traveling to another world was a novel thing for her as well. For a moment, her senses went haywire as if she could smell flickering lights and taste the movement that pulled her through space without her feet leaving the ground. With a final stomach somersault, she found herself in a stone hall next to a peculiar cupboard and a bleeding David in Mary Margaret's arms.
It was also the first time she killed someone.
Regina was staring at her, shocked and confused, mouth open, slowly looking down Emma's arm to a wand that was jabbed into her side. Recognition flickered in her eyes as if she needed a few seconds to remember who Emma was and what happened.
"It's a wand, you moron," she stuttered, voice strained. "You're supposed to do magic with it, not... stab people..."
"This worked just fine," Emma removed the wand, a stream of blood gushed out and Regina fell to the floor.
"Emma..." the Evil Queen was about to swear vengeance when the lights in her eyes went out.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret reacted to the name. As was about to turn out, Snow White didn't remember the last 28 years, didn't know Storybrook, and had never met Emma before. Nor did anyone else in the castle except for the dead Queen.
But that was the least of her worries when she realized that Henry was nowhere to be found.
"I'll alert the fairies immediately!" Mary Margaret jumped to the window and started luring in a little blue bird.
"Right. Sure. And I'll go do it my way. Where is the man, anyway? He wasn't far behind me when I broke the Curse."
"I'm sorry, who?"
"Mr. Gold. Rumpelstiltskin."
"Oh, that monster is in King Thomas's land, in the prison where he belongs."
The room was silent for a heartbeat.
"Not if I have anything to say about it. How far is that?"
"Two days on horseback."
"Horseback?!"
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The Curse was broken, has been for the last three days.
The moment between it was cast and lifted felt like years, because it had been years, only not in this world, but never mind the metaphysics, the Curse came and went and the guard was too far out to hear his excited screaming.
So he tried to tell the rats and when the rats didn't listen, he told the cockroaches. The cockroaches were always up for a discussion, but Rumpelstiltskin had a feeling they were secretly mocking him. They probably thought he was beneath them and indulged him out of pity. Damn them. He'll step on one the first chance he gets and pretend it was an accident.
"Please, my lady, do not go any further!" the guard's distraught cry was carried all the way to Rumpelstiltskin.
"I'm telling you, I have your king's permission," a female voice echoed through the dungeon as well.
Rumpelstiltskin's ears twitched curiously. Who might that bird be? More contemptuous royals to ask for his guidance? He'd better make himself presentable. So he licked his hair down, tucked his shirt inside his pants and hid in the darkest corner. A jumpscare was his favorite of first impressions.
At last, the visitor was in sight. Lovely hair. Perhaps from Goldilock's family? No. No, she was... That face, that vibe, he knew her... Her name, he knew that name...
"Where's the door?"
"There is none, my lady. The stone of this holy mountain is impenetrable and the bars were forged from dragon teeth. Only the council of fairies has enough magic to open this cage."
"Damn it. The kings agreed to help me but the fairies didn't," she started pacing along the bars. She looked so out of place. A stranger in their world?
Just what was that name, hmm? He could reach out and touch her hair if he wanted. No Rumpel, bad Rumpel, no distractions, think. Her clothing was very interesting, especially the red leather jacket. Rumpelstiltskin liked leather. Only few people shared his fashion taste in these lands. Sadly, those who did were usually also fond of tacky thrones made of human bones. No sense of style at all.
"May I ask why you even want him free, my lady?" the guard inquired.
"Emma! What a lovely name."
The guard and the stranger jumped at his sharp voice. Did he say that out loud? What a powerful memory, it felt like reliving the moment. Emma, the savior. They met.
"He remembers me," Emma whispered. Emma Emma Emma. Sounded fun to say three times fast, so he did. Her eyes scanned the darkness that his voice was coming from, confused and frustrated. Was she not used to his mannerisms, Emma Emma Emma? What was he like, then, in that other world? Was he a bore?
"Besides," she cleared her throat, "he helped me defeat the Evil Queen. You owe him freedom. He saved you all."
He did? How fascinating! Rumpelstiltskin failed to stifle a squeal of entertainment.
"Anyway, I've just had a very painful horse-riding experience, I'm tired and cranky and you're telling me there's nothing I can do to open this thing?"
"I'm afraid not, my lady."
"Come on, there must be some emergency exit or something."
Rumpelstiltskin giggled. She was funny!
"There's none, my-"
"My lady, I know," Emma sighed and paced some more. She wrapped her fingers around the bars, trying to see how solid the construction was. Rumpelstiltskin chose the perfect moment to sneak up on her so that the next time she would look up, she'd be an inch away from his face. He wished someone was giving medals for that skill, he was really good at it. Not to mention that his ugly skin, inhuman eyes and sickly teeth always got a good scare out of poor unfortunate souls.
She, however, didn't jump and didn't scream. She froze, her eyes widened, and then she inspected his face closely, as if she was looking for something. He could sense the weight of her gaze on his skin and he felt almost violated by that woman, that woman who wasn't scared of him, that unpredictable, horrible woman –
She reached out and cupped his face before he finished moving back into the darkness of his cell. Their savior was crazy! Quite wonderfully crazy!
"It is you in there," she breathed the words somewhat emotionally.
Rumpelstiltskin stood petrified.
She asked him something, her eyes searching his with burning intensity.
Her eyes.
"Emma, What a lovely name," his eyes were devouring her, this newcomer, the only newcomer, the future savior. She thanked him politely and looked at him with no fear but also no judgement, only mild curiosity. "Enjoy your stay, Emma."
"No idea what got into her," he described his pregnant attacker to Miss Swan and gave her an inspecting look. He would bet his money that that little something that set things into motion was standing right in front of him.
"What do you want?" – "Oh, I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor." She came closer to him, their eye contact sizzling, his browns luring her into the deal and her greens very much aware of it, promising a tough fight even though the word that escaped her mouth was a deep and husky: "Deal."
Just before the debate for the next Storybrook sheriff started, Miss Swan peeked out from behind the curtain and her gaze met his. For a good minute, they led a silent dialogue just with their eyes.
He observed Mr. Glass lying through his teeth about betraying the mayor because he couldn't watch her destroy other people's lives anymore. "Of course you can't," he let a little bit of irony seep into his voice and Miss Swan's reaction was instantaneous. 'You know something,' her peepers zeroed in on him. Thanks to her suspicion, the sheriff would reveal Mr. Glass as a double agent soon after their meeting.
"Do you remember me?" she asked again.
Yes.
"Not yet, dearie," he answered instead. "Memories come with patience, you see."
"Oh. Okay," she tried to understand the best she could.
The bar in her other hand cracked when her whole body weight pressed against it. They jumped: all three of them.
"Dragon teeth, you say?" she mumbled and wiggled the bar until she broke it.
Rumpelstiltskin fell silent, and still, and serious.
"Impossible!" the guard exclaimed.
Emma just shrugged, took a step back and gave the bars a very brutal kick with her boot. He never saw a lady move quite like that, not even in self-defense. The bars that would never budge beneath his own hands crumbled beneath hers like twigs. She squeezed through the opening she created and came up to his crouching form.
"You can repay me by helping me find my son. Henry – at least him you could remember."
Rumpelstiltskin grinned.
"You should've tried to make that deal with me before you opened my cage."
"I'm letting you out anyway," she offered him a hand to get him up.
Shocked by that answer, he stood up immediately.
"Oh, is your leg alright?" She received another bewildered stare. "Cause it wasn't in the real world."
"Real world?" he caught on to those words. "Poor Miss Emma, you are going to be quite miserable here, aren't you?"
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"There," Rumpelstiltskin jabbed his perfectly ugly finger into a point on a map, "Magic took everyone where they belonged...Him to this island."
"Magic got it wrong. Damn, that's far...Couldn't you just...Hocus pocus us over there? Just me and you, we'll leave my guards here and be back in a minute."
"I technically already helped you, dearie," he refused with delight.
"Oh come on, don't be a dick."
Rumpelstiltskin almost tripped on nothing. Don't be a... Don't be a dick?! No one has ever negotiated with him quite like that before! But why did he feel like she had stood up to him before?
"Gold? You in here?" she was the only one who entered his shop like that.
"Thanks, but I'm still not interested," she rejected his offer of help.
"You set the fire," she seethed, angry at him and terrified about what just happened that she was a part of. "Find another sucker," she slammed the door behind her.
"You really wanna start that fight?" her voice was low, almost whispering, and deep and velvety. Her threats were silent, just like his.
"Look, we're done here." - "Actually, we're not. You're under arrest."
"Stop," she touched his arm as he was about to beat a man to death. Somehow, she helped him find his self-control.
In the end, he helped out in her search for that little bundle of speech impediments, Henry. The child remembered his mother only vaguely, much like Rumpelstiltskin, and the other boys on the island gave him a name before he remembered his own: Peter. Also, a fact that some could consider a detail (especially cockroaches, those always underestimated aviation): Henry could fly. Since he appeared in the magical world, Henry could fly. As hard as Rumpelstiltskin tried not to enjoy the sight of said ability, he caught himself squealing and clapping several times.
And then, his eyes fell on Emma. Poor Emma Emma Emma, whose eyes looked lost and trapped and terrified while she watched her son fly about and call himself the wrong name while barely remembering hers.
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"Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin."
Unlike most Dark Ones, Rumpelstiltskin gave his name to anyone willing to listen. After all, he was a businessman of sorts, and using a little name magic to make himself accessible to clients was a good marketing strategy. So right now, five days after the Curse was broken, when Emma opened her mouth and said his name three times in a row, he could hear her from a thousand miles away.
"You called, my dear," he appeared right in front of her with a flamboyant bow. She was wearing horse-riding apparel, though he was sure she wasn't riding any horses that day. It was the only pant a woman could wear in the castle.
"Why the long face, my lady savior?"
"I need your help."
"Splendid! Are you willing to make a deal with me?"
"Are you willing to make a deal with me?" – "What do you want?" – "Oh, I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor." – "Deal."
"Hi, my name is Mr. Gold." – "I remember." – "Good. I have a proposition for you, Miss Swan."
"If you really wanna bring her down, you're gonna need a strong ally." – "Like yourself?"
"Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish more. How would you like a benefactor?"
"Are you ok?" she navigated him towards a small coffee table.
He noticed a bottle of liquor on top of it.
"Want some?" she offered. When he gave her an inquiring look instead of an answer, she sighed and explained: "The head honcho fairy came over to 'chastise' me for freeing you and also to find out how I broke into your cage. She gave me this...diagnosis and I...I'd like a second expert opinion."
"From me?"
"From me? As I recall, you don't exactly approve of my methods." – "I approve of your results." – "And you're willing to go as far as it takes?" – "Farther." – "Now we're talking."
"You told me you could fix this. That's why I came to you. So that you could make sure Regina didn't win." – "Well, she hasn't yet." – "So what's your plan?" – "I know that this is emotional, but it's also not over. You must have faith, there's still time." – "Time for what?" – "For me to work a little magic."
"Seriously," Emma gestured with her third drink of the night they got Mary Margaret out of the prison, "I can't keep calling you Mr. Gold when we're getting drunk together. I don't know jack about you, at least give me your name. Wait, is it Jack?" – "Hahah, how about a bet: You guess that name in three tries and I'll tell you anything you want to hear about me." – "Harold... Joshua... Rumpelstiltskin."
"Rumpelstiltskin," Emma interrupted the onslaught of memories.
"We planned and schemed and conspired," he rambled, hunched over the table, their faces close.
"To defeat Regina? Yeah, I mean at first we kept double-crossing each other, but in the end you had my back and I had yours. Do you remember now?" She leaned closer as well.
"Almost," he chirped and jumped, making her jump as well. "I heard our savior killed the Queen in a fairly... non-heroic fashion," he fondled the words in his mouth before letting them out.
"That's what I want to talk about, actually," Emma wiped her hands on her pants and swallowed. "During the 'final battle' as you used to call it, Regina had this huge spell surrounding her, and I just walked right through it, I didn't even feel it. I was supposed to use the wand in a duel, but I couldn't get it to work, so I just... used the pointy end."
"Oh I love pointy ends," Rumpelstiltskin cheered, "How very inventive of you, Emma dear."
"Um, thanks. And then, I was able to break the dragon teeth bars. Again, the magical barrier that was supposed to be there...I was immune to it. The fairy godmother told me that most spells, especially the big ones, don't affect me because they're based on connecting to the victim's soul and its magic. But apparently there's nothing to connect to in my case."
"Oh, dearie dearie dearie. Did that ugly fairy bug tell you that you have no soul?"
"She...She said it's a possible explanation. What she's sure about is that there's no magic of my own in there."
"Preposterous," Rumpelstiltskin chuckled as if she said a joke. "In this world, everybody has a little magic inside them. And you were born here, Miss Emma. To – be – our – savior!" He pointed in the air and sang the words.
"And you were the one who foretold that, am I right? You know these things. Please, Rumpelstiltskin."
"Harold." – "No." – " Joshua." – "Hah, no, Miss Swan." – "Rumpelstiltskin." – "...Excuse me?" – "Just kidding, it's Henry's new theory, he thinks he finally found your fairy tale character...What?" – "I'm afraid I did have too many drinks. Look at me, playing foolish games in Granny's Diner. I should go home." – "Oh god. I got the right name, didn't I? Didn't I? And now you have to tell me everything because 'your agreements are always honored.' And your name is Rumpelstiltskin. What the..." – "Miss Swan. If you really think you are ready for this conversation, let us have it somewhere else."
"Touch my hand, dearie."
Without a second of a doubt she let her hand fall into his.
"Ah, the soul is there, it's all mushy and fluffy inside. Yet..." Rumpelstiltskin frowned.
In search for her inner magic, his hand traveled up her arm, then an inch away from her temple and then hovered above her chest. She never shied away, just watched him anxiously.
"No. No magic. No quivering la-la-lah in your veins, anywhere."
"Are you sure?" She pressed his hand against the skin above her neckline.
Touching her. Touching her there. Touching. What a scary woman.
"Yes, yes, very certain, sure as the sky is blue except when it's black or red or cloudy od partially cloudy or full of rainbows which does happen in here sometimes," he blabbered nervously. "That means you can't do any magic, but also that almost no magic can be done to you, you lucky lucky. No curses, no glamour, no barriers..."
"No true love's kiss."
"Ah, yes. No true love magic."
"I heard that that's why there's almost no divorce in here. As long as you love each other when you're getting married, the wedding kiss creates a magical bond and gives you a happily ever after."
"A lovely enchantment, I've heard. But there are more loveless marriages than you think, my lady savior, between both peasants and royals. Sometimes I count them in my head before I go to sleep," he snickered maliciously.
"Well, I've never been one for long-term relationships anyway," Emma shrugged and poured two glasses of liquor, her disappointment clear as day. She clanked her glass against his and started drinking.
He later realized that he didn't make a deal for anything in return before answering her question.
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Rumpelstiltskin never got mail. Never.
He didn't even have a mailbox.
He wasn't sure the Dark Castle had an address to begin with.
That is why the little blue bird dropped the envelope into his lap before, scared out of its little mind, it hit glass on the way out and knocked itself unconscious.
Rumpelstiltskin took his time turning the envelope in his hands, taking in the paper and the seal. It was from Snow White's castle – he'd left the place only a couple of days ago, on an early morning, so drunk he teleported into his stables by mistake. She made him drink. She made him talk. He'd spent hours trying to remember how many beans he spilled. He hated beans.
They talked about her discomfort with having servants, about the roof that caved in at his estate while he was imprisoned, about her son, about his son... Did he tell her about his son?
"No, please, they grow up so fast. Your time together is precious, you know. That's the thing about children. Before you know it...You lose them."
Wrong memory. But more kept coming:
"My agreements are always honored."
"Just a name. But I generally find that's all one needs."
"I know how to recognize a desperate soul."
"Let's just say: Bad things happen to bad people. Observation."
"Time for what?" – "For me to work a little magic."
"Harold. Joshua. Rumpelstiltskin."
"But... But... There's supposed to be no grey area in fairy tales. Either you're good or evil. What are you, then? Or were you, I don't know, born evil and then reformed?" – "Evil isn't born, dearie. It's made."
Crafty little Rumpel, you left her crumbles before she even suspected you had another identity. And then, you opened up like an oyster. Are you getting old? His thoughts taunted him. Did you tell her about her, the chipped cup, as well?
"That reaction was about more than taking a few trinkets. You said something about how he hurt her? If someone needs help, maybe I can help." – "Look, we're done here."
"I'm going to make her pay..." – "What's gotten into you? First you agree to work with me and now that we're at the party, you look about ready to murder her. Are you trying to ruin our cover?" They were in the mayor's house with the intention of slipping away unnoticed and finding her secret room. Coming to one of Regina's parties and taking Miss Swan as his plus one was the best opportunity they had at infiltrating the mansion. "You don't know what she did," he ground his teeth, "What I found out she did..." – "Whatever it is, I need you to keep a cool head now, Mr. Gold. We have to wait for the best moment. Don't you agree?" – "Yes," Rumpelstiltskin growled.
The envelope wrinkled in his fingers. Pesky memories. What was it the Queen did to him anyway? He distracted himself with the rumpled envelope again. Haha, rumpled.
Inside was an invitation. An innn-vi-ta-tion. To a ball of all things. 'To celebrate the defeat of the Evil Queen and her Curse, blah bublah bublah, a ball dedicated to our Savior Princess, Emma White,' now where did the Swan go, was it eaten by a crocodile? 'You are cordially invited to join the festivities in the White Castle and its gardens, yada yada pa dum pam.'
Rumpelstiltskin flipped to the other side of the card, expecting some explanation. A smirking frog face would do, then he'd know it was a joke.
No. Apparently, Rumpelstiltskin was invited. Cordially even.
Another trap, perhaps? Blasted fairy bugs buzzing in Snow White's ears. They must be preparing a new cage as Rumpelstiltskin speaks (to himself). What better way to find out than an early visit! He snapped his fingers and appeared right next to Snow White.
Snow White screamed. Not because she was not decent at the moment, but because her daughter wasn't. He interrupted Emma's dress rehearsal. Blood flushed into his face and he turned away from the sight with a swoosh.
"Oh for god's sake, I'm wearing a corset and about a bajillion petticoats, it's not like I'm naked," Emma exclaimed. "Would you calm down?" she snapped at her mother.
"It's highly inappropriate!" Snow White gushed.
"I agree," Rumpelstiltskin said from where he was facing the wall, eyes covered on top of that.
"That's adorable, you two actually agree on something!"
"I would never!" Snow White showed her contempt for the man who assisted her reunion with her true love and told her how to defeat her nemesis.
"I take it you were not the one to decide my invitation then? Did the daughter throw a tantrum until mommy said yes?"
"Puh-lease, don't call us that. I may be even older than her – not that I know for sure because she won't tell me her age."
"Time passes differently in our world," Snow White complained, "so it's hard to compare your years with ours."
"Excuses. But anyway...You're here about the invitation."
"Yes. Can I turn around now?"
"Sure."
"No!" Snow White yelped. "I'm still putting her dress on."
"Do you hate parties, is that it?"
"On the contrary, my dear. I love balls and dances – I especially enjoy masquerades. I'm not very used to being invited to them, though. What if it sucks all the fun out of it?"
"Do you want me to uninvite you so that you can crash the party?" Emma chuckled.
"How about a deal-"
"No deals!" Snow White interrupted them again. "Emma, please, stop making deals with him. It never ends well. He helped in the final battle so he can come to the ball, but that's it."
There was a moment of silence and then Emma took a quick breath:
"Say, Rumpelstiltskin, would you like to have my first dance?"
"Emma!"
"Apparently, they have this annoying tradition here. Whoever the party is about gets to have the first dance while everyone else stands around and stares like a creep."
"As your mother, I beg you..."
"I would've taken David if it wasn't forbidden..."
"James. His name is James."
"Right. I'm sorry. Well...I have to dance with a single man, James is my father, Henry is my son and Jiminy Cricket is an insect. And I don't really know anyone else..."
"It would be an honor, Miss Swan. I promise to be on time." With that, Rumpelstiltskin disappeared in a puff of black and gold smoke.
"He called me Miss Swan," he could hear an echo of her voice before his presence left the room completely.
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"And now, allow me one last formality before the celebrations begin. In honor of the one who saved us from eternal darkness, we shall name our castle lake: Lake Emma!" Prince James, now King, proclaimed. He threw an excited smile at his twenty-eight-year-old daughter. He tried so hard to make her happy, Emma could feel it. She was already more than thankful for the time he spent with Henry. Her son, or at least the fairy tale version of him, decided to only bond with boys, which made James his only relative worth of consideration.
"It is time for the first dance! I give you our Savior Princess, Emma White!"
Emma took a deep breath and started towards the dance floor. To say that her dress was heavy was an understatement. Snow White had it made for her from the finest silk and brocade in various hues of silver and gold. Her corset provided only a bit of a cleavage in the halter neck that formed a nice collar that Snow White called a little villainous but Emma adored. The dress had a huge skirt with hoops and everything and she honestly doubted she could stay on her feet for more than an hour, not to mention dancing.
Just walking down the stairs without tripping was a small victory; now where the hell was Rumpelstiltskin? She looked around the hall packed with people she didn't know while more and more were waiting in the gardens. And now she was getting really nervous, the castle was suddenly very silent, the orchestra was waiting for her signal to start the waltz, her palms were sweating, she wanted to take off those stupid gloves, and where the hell was Rumpelstiltskin?!
A cold wind whistled through the castle doors, then changed into a trace of black and gold smoke and that transformed into a lush black coat with gold embroidery. The dark sorcerer was now standing right in front of Emma. With a grandiose gesture, he bowed and offered his hand for a dance.
"You sure know how to make your entrance," she smirked while everyone else gasped. Her fingers rested on his and the music began.
"I came one minute late, forgive me if you were uncomfortable," Rumpelstiltskin muttered, leading her across the dance floor in elegant circles. "Are you...What are you counting?"
"Two, three, what? Hold that thought, at least until the rest starts dancing."
Rumpelstiltskin laughed out, and then again, clearly finding her nervousness hilarious. Emma could feel her skin going red.
"My apologies," he chuckled without losing the rhythm, "but you are most certainly the strangest hero these lands have ever seen."
"Yeah, well," she looked around, hoping that her embarrassment wasn't that visible, "I've always been more like you than them."
Rumpelstiltskin missed a step. Fortunately, Snow White and James had just joined the dance and many pairs followed their example.
"You clean up nice, by the way," Emma said.
"Pardon?"
"I love the coat. And this...old-timey tie or whatever it is, it looks really cute on you. Also," she chuckled, "just out of curiosity, do you ever not wear leather pants in this world?"
"Oh. Eeh, may I say that you look dashing yourself."
"My my, and here I thought I was used to the sight of you in suits," she made a short purring noise.
"Really? Over a dress suit?"Mr. Gold tried to hide how flattered he felt.
When they arrived to Regina's party and Miss Swan took off her coat, he finally found out what she scoured the whole town with Mary Margaret for: a long black gown with no cleavage but a low-cut back.
"You look gorgeous, Miss Swan," he told her.
"Well this is supposed to be our first date, I want to make a good impression," she smiled, referring to their cover story. And she played her role perfectly. They didn't exactly flirt; but she did touch his arm whenever she wanted his attention, and her eyes landed on his very often over the night, and she whispered into his ear intimately when the music was loud. They danced three times before they split in order to find Regina's secret chamber; during every dance, Mr. Gold got to touch Emma's bare back and only then did he appreciate what kind of a killer dress she was wearing.
"Are you remembering something?" Emma brought him back to the White Castle.
"Yes," he admitted. "Our first date, as you called it."
"Oh! How much do you remember?" This seemed important for her.
"Your gown... And our dancing," Rumpelstiltskin's fingers inched a little higher on her back, over the edge of the corset, finding her skin. She raised an eyebrow, but that was all. He wondered how much he would have to push in order to scare her away. But she was a scary woman herself, wasn't she, and one never knew with scary women. A scary savior. What an intriguing concept.
"Is that all? You discovered something that day, before you invited me to the party."
He frowned in frustration. He hated not knowing, he was used to knowing everything.
The tune came to an end and since her second dance belonged to her father, Rumpelstiltskin stepped aside and watched her intensely. Remember. Remember. Remember.
"Hi, my name is Mr. Gold." – "I remember." – "Good."
"When did you see her last?" – "Last night; that's how I got this." – "That's an ugly blow, have you been to the doctor?" – "I believe I'm alright, thank you." – "No nausea? It could be a concussion..." Miss Swan went to the freezer and pulled out an ice pack. "Now let me take a look."
"I like your confidence. Charming." – "Somehow I suspect there is more to you than a simple pawnbroker." – "I like you, Miss Swan. You're not afraid of me."
"Emma, how lovely to see you. I'm flattered you'd take time off your busy schedule for me."
"What's your price?" – "Forgiveness." – "How about tolerance?" – "Well, that's a start."
"I'm still not interested." – "One can wish."
"It appears I've been robbed." – "Funny how that keeps happening to you." – "Yeah, well," he lowered his gun first, "I'm a difficult man to love."
"Pastrami. You want a half? I still owe you that favor." – "When the day comes that I make my request, it'll be for more than half a sandwich." – "You've got a talent for making things sound much creepier than they are, you know that?"
The mayor marched in like a general and ordered her to go for an ice cream with Henry while she had a word with the prisoner. Miss Swan didn't make a step until she made sure that Mr. Gold was okay with her leaving. "Bring me back a cone," he gave her a small smile.
"Fear not, Miss Swan. Regina may be powerful, but something tells me you're more powerful than you know."
"I could've run and left her there," she breathed, finally realizing what kind of a creature she was dealing with. "Not the type," he tsked self-assuredly. She caught him by surprise when she cut the distance between them so that their noses were almost touching. "You know nothing about me. You have no idea what type I am, what I'm capable of, how I think. For example, what am I going to do right now, Mr. Gold?" she asked him threateningly. Before he was able to come up with an answer, she dipped to his lips as if to kiss him, but she didn't – she pulled back at the last millisecond. She left him surprised at her behavior and shocked at his own disappointment. "Find another sucker."
He came to when she was in the middle of her third dance. Henry didn't look thrilled about this sonhood obligation. He ran off before the song was over.
"But I don't want to grow up!" he screamed for the whole castle to hear.
Rumpelstiltskin looked at the boy's back, really looked, and he instantly knew his most probable future.
Emma looked at the sorcerer with question marks in her eyes. But she must've seen something that changed her mind, for she didn't ask Rumpelstiltskin anything. He was glad for it. Delivering the news that her son was going to run away from home would be quite a party pooper. Peter. Henry sure knew how to pick a name with potential.
"Let me show you your lake," he offered her an arm to hook hers into so that she wouldn't have to leave the dance floor alone with everyone staring. His presence made people look away and Emma seemed to like it.
"Thanks," she sighed and leaned into him a little.
"About time, the mayor will be here any minute," Mr. Gold welcomed Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard back at the sheriff's station.
"Emma's bleeding..."
"Let's get you in your cell first."
"What happened?" Mr. Gold asked.
Miss Swan's eyebrow was busted from someone's fist. He hated violence on women. It made him sick. (Sick of himself, mostly.)
"The Mad Hatter happened."
"Excuse me?" Could she be serious? But even if she knew and believed...The hatter couldn't escape his mansion!
"Oh, it was just some freak who got a drop on us. There's a first aid kit in one of these drawers..."
"Let me."
"I can do it myself, it's just a..."
"Please, allow me."
"Ok, fine."
"..."
"Tell me you're really trying to help Mary Margaret. Tell me I can trust you."
"I cannot tell you that, Miss Swan," but he really wanted to. "But maybe soon."
"What does that mean?" she sighed.
They arrived to the lake.
"Here it is. Lake Emma."
"That sounds so awkward. I wanted to call it Swan Lake, but Mary Margaret hates that name, says it's not real. Snow White. I mean, Snow. I'm supposed to call her just Snow. Or Mother, of course."
"And you are supposed to become Emma White overnight, am I right?" he rhymed a little. She chuckled.
"Come to think of it, you've been unusually normal tonight. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"I've been merely trying not to cause you any embarrassment."
"Oh, thank you so much. You know, it's funny, I used to do crazy things to get people's attention when I was younger. Now it terrifies me. Savior Princess. With a fricking Emma Lake."
"Swan Lake," Rumpelstiltskin corrected her and gestured to the body of water, his magic changing a dozen of fish into beautiful swans. Emma gasped and laughed.
"Amazing! Thanks, Rumpels!"
"I want you to come as my plus one to the mayor's party tonight. You can trust me now, Miss Swan." – "I can? Why? Something changed," she guessed it right away. "Yes... Let's just say that the injustice I've just uncovered was the very last drop. I owe that monstrous woman a complete, devastating, humbling blow."
"What's gotten into you? First you agree to work with me and now that we're at the party, you look about ready to murder her. Are you trying to ruin our cover?" – "You don't know what she did... What I found out she did..." – "Whatever it is, I need you to keep a cool head now, Mr. Gold." She gave his upper arm a gentle squeeze, eyes so intensely on his he thought she was trying to hypnotize him. "We have to wait for the best moment. Don't you agree?" He looked around and found Regina watching them. "Yes," Rumpelstiltskin growled while smiling for show, and he kissed Emma's hand.
"Rumpels- -" her voice broke, giving way for a moan.
What?!
Rumpelstiltskin immediately excused himself and fled the castle.
