Mr. Gold could see Granny with a new customer today, just inside the tinted glass window on the door to Granny's Inn. Which was strange, because there were never new customers in Storybrooke, at least, not that Gold could ever remember. No one ever wanted to come to this sleepy little town, which was as Gold preferred it.
No matter. Rent still had to be paid, and the insufferable old woman refused to mail the money, forcing Gold to come and pick up the rent himself every first of the month.
His irritation building as he was reminded of the half a dozen other renters who refused to pay by mail, Mr. Gold shoved open the door to the inn with his gold-handle cane and stepped inside. He owned most of the town, maybe all of it-he wasn't sure-and because of this, he knew everyone in it. He found strangers, like the young blonde woman standing at Granny's desk with her back to him, rather threatening.
He supposed that was the one thing he had in common with the mayor of Storybrooke.
Gold shuddered at having anything in common with that woman. At least she also had to pay him rent. He got an immense sort of satisfaction out of watching her hand over her considerable payment every month.
The new, blonde woman had yet to turn around. She was nodding at something Granny had said before Gold entered the building, her long, curly blonde hair bouncing against the expensive red leather jacket she wore.
She did not look like someone planning on staying in Storybrooke, more like a stranger passing through, spending the night. Perhaps there on accident.
Granny still had not noticed him, peering intently down at her books, squinting through her old, wire-rimmed glasses. "Now, what's the name?"
"Swan. Emma Swan," the blonde woman said.
It was a rather odd name.
With that thought, Mr. Gold was suddenly hit with a barrage of swirling, emotionally charged images that were not his own. He had to struggle not to stagger forward as memories from another life attacked him without mercy, blocking out everything around him. He gasped as they swam before his mind, hoping the women hadn't noticed. Leaning hard against his cane, Rumpelstiltskin remembered.
Memories of a coward living in a hate-filled village. Of a wife who didn't love him. Of a dagger, glistening with blood in the moonlight, reading his name. Rumpelstiltskin. Of a son, sucked into a green portal, screaming at him.
Pain. Sadness. Of a long, miserable life filled with terrible deals and loopholes. Of a woman who did love him, but was dead now.
More pain, ripping at his insides, threatening to tear him apart.
A new deal, new determination. Memories of Snow White, coming down to his cell to talk about her child. Insanity. Memories of a powerful curse that could take him to this world without magic, and of a savior who could break the curse and allow him to find his son, the one thing he wanted. A savior whose name he had just managed to pry from Snow White. Miss Blanchard was so much different here. A savior named-
"Emma," Mr. Gold repeated, taking a half-step forward to hide his shock at the new memories. To his surprise, he could still completely remember his fake life, the life of this pretend Mr. Gold, but it seemed shallow in comparison to the three hundred years he had spent in another life. At least Regina had kept her word about giving him power in this new world.
It was a mistake she would soon learn to regret.
The wheels of his mind were already spinning, reminding him of his spinning wheel. He had to keep a clear head about this, tread carefully, but his head was reeling. The savior had come. His loophole had worked. He had his memories back, and now he could help push her towards her destiny, could finally find his son. Bae.
Granny's head jerked up, and she stared at him in absolute fear. Of course. He knew who she really was now; the granny of that little she-wolf from the Enchanted Forest, who went by Ruby here. She was far more outspoken in the Enchanted Forest than here. But he ignored her.
His eyes were only for the savior, this blonde girl who was staring back at him in something akin to boredom. Of course, she didn't know who he really was. She didn't even know who she herself really was. "What a lovely name." He hoped they hadn't found his actions suspicious. Already, Granny was looking at him with wide, wary eyes, but perhaps that was just because he was talking to her new arrival. It wasn't like Gold to take an interest in anyone other than himself, much less compliment them.
Come to think of it, it wasn't much like Rumpelstiltskin, either, but she had just restored three hundred years of memories to him. He felt the need to thank her in some small way. And saying her name had been almost...comforting. Had proved that he was right about who she was, and that this all hadn't been for nothing.
The blonde eyed him, as if she weren't quite sure what to make of him. No, she didn't yet know her own significance. "Thank you," she answered, eyeing him like she expected him to bite her.
Little did she know the one she needed to worry about coming after her blood was just down the street, living like a queen locked away in her mayor's mansion.
The mayor. To think only yesterday she was a mere nuisance. The Evil Queen, the only thing standing in his way now. Now, she was so much more, and he found himself regretting the past twenty-eight years in which she'd been able to prepare for the breaking of the curse while he had not.
No matter; he had time to make up for it. He was the Dark One, as his new memories reminded him. He glanced at Emma again, quelling a grin.
"It's all here," Granny snapped, shoving a handful of money at him, and Rumpelstiltskin smirked. She was so much more...docile in this world. Everything was so different here. Everyone was so different here, and he found he actually liked most of them better.
"Yes, of course it is, dearie," he said, taking the money, though he couldn't have cared less anymore, now that he knew the truth. He was still reeling from it, still unable to wrap his mind around everything that seemed to have just happened. A heartbeat, a name, and he had his memories back.
He must remember to thank Miss Swan one day. Emma.
Nevertheless, he must keep up appearances, so Regina didn't get suspicious. He cast another long look at the blonde.
Emma. The savior. She didn't look like much, not yet, but if she was here, today of all days, twenty-eight years after the beginning of the curse, he knew his little loophole had succeeded. She was a product of true love, and therefore more than she looked. He couldn't wait to see what she was capable of.
He would have to start preparing for the journey to find Baelfire.
"You enjoy your stay here, Emma," he told her, trying hard to hide his absolute glee. It was altogether too much like Rumpelstiltskin, and glee would not have befit the Mr. Gold the townspeople believed him to be. He quickly turned on his heel, rapping his cane against the ground as he hurried to get out of the place. He did not pause to see Emma's reaction, but slammed the door shut behind him with his leg.
When he was standing outside on the porch alone, only then did Rumpelstiltskin allow himself a victorious smile, worthy of the Dark One.
Yes, he had his memories back now, and everything was going according to his plan.
The End