Rain is common in this area of the Enchanted Forest, but the sun never shies away from it, resulting in lush landscapes and fields that yield bountiful crops. Its winters, however, are never forgiving; random cold wind would blow through the land, bringing with it more snow than desired. Fortunately, this part of the land rarely sees ice, assuring safety for the green-cloaked woman trudging up the snow-covered steps.
It is the midwinter and her hands and feet are cold despite their layers of insulation and protection. At such temperature, she is certain her nose is on the verge of falling off her face. Serves her right for refusing his help of magic—no, she shouldn't think about magic, let alone want anything to do with it. It'll ultimately remind her of the day that left her heart charred.
Inevitably—and predictably—her mind starts its game of questions. For the umpteenth time she wonders whether his actions were all his; if that is the real man behind the mask. She used to deny it vehemently because she once saw the lonely soul underneath the layers, the spinner who survived on meagre love and joy. Now she frequently finds herself asking if she has read him wrong and only sees what she wanted to see, blinded to the reality that he is too dusty and worn that he's now what he wasn't. Maybe deep down, the Dark One have always been a part of him. Getting a taste of the Dark One's power makes him addicted to it and she wonders if it is impossible for him to give it up or should the question be why he does not want to do so? Another barrage of questions assaults her and with it comes the pounding in her temples, a sure sign to stop scrutinising everything that happened.
The woman stops in her tracks and lets her body relax; white puffs of breath escapes her blue-pink lips. It takes a few seconds for the throbbing to ebb and another for her to notice the absence of strong and cold winds. Sweeping her gaze over the white wonderland, she marvels at its beauty. The wintery weather may be cruel, but when the storm dies beauty is left in its wake. A lance lodges itself in her heart at the unbidden thought if she and her True Love will get the same ending. Are they still True Love? Blinking away the wetness in her eyes, she takes a deep breath before continuing her journey. Ahead of her, a tiny purple dot appears to be bouncing on the snow.
Ice-cold fear grips her core at the consequence of her carelessness. She warned herself to push him into the darkest recess of her mind. It only leads to her drowning in 'what ifs', 'why', and 'how'; it leads to her being a negligent mother. Ice may be rare, but that doesn't mean there isn't any. Plagued with terror, she runs and stumbles to the other half of her True Love.
At the sound of her mother's cries, Lucy stops on the sixty-seventh step. Counting steps helps keep her mind occupied and block out the cold. Unaffected by it means she can easily climb the flight of stairs and get to her papa quicker. She is so cold and looks forward to the warmth of his castle. She wants to feel the heat of his body seeping into her and have him blow kisses on her cold cheeks. His bug-like eyes would twinkle while his clawed-nails mercilessly tickle her sides. It has been three months since she last saw him and she misses him terribly.
Rolling her eyes and huffing out in annoyance, Lucy turns to descend the steps to her harried mother. She was five steps down and looking where to plant her foot—the monotonous colour makes it hard to tell the edge of a tread—when someone grabs the side of her arms. Her body tenses as her eyes shoot up to the assailant. Her hammering heart calms down as she registers it is only her mother... her mother who is looking at her with anxious eyes and turning her around to inspect for bruises and most probably blood. Why do mothers have to fuss so much? Soon she's wrapped up in her mother's embrace, suffocated by her thick clothing and hideous scarf while garbled sound of rapid apologies sprout forth from her almost blue lips.
The eight-year-old girl whines and wriggles in her parent's deathly grip. She whimpers like a pup in pain and the effect was immediate, her mother quickly releases her; another round of apologies fills the silent air. Lucy glares at her mother before she ascends the stairs once more. Twenty-two steps before she reaches the landing that leads to the big oak door. Twenty-two steps to reunite her with her beloved father and away from her mother.
This time, the girl quickens her pace; her mother does the same.
The green-cloaked woman trailing not far behind, hands out and ready to catch the purple-cloaked girl lest she falls.
Bushes of red roses and miniature pine trees decorated with candles and baubles greet them as they reach the last step. They appear to be bowing down to them as they walk on the snow-covered grass. The air gets slightly warmer as Lucy takes in the beauty around her. She's certain the roses are for her mother, their redness the colour of her lips. 'Does mama even notice these messages from papa?' a small part of her wilts at the thought that she might not. She'll never understand her mother's hate for papa's magic and the man himself. She's not stupid, she can see it from the way her mother distances herself from her father and how her nose wrinkles in distaste whenever she talks about magic. Lucy sighs heavily before running the remaining length to her father's castle. The door opens after she places their secret knock.
Rumpelstiltskin swoops up his daughter. Her joyous laughter is music to his ears. He rubs his nose against hers, causing another plea of laughter to escape her dainty mouth.
"You're freezing, sweet one," he frowns.
"Nothing that I couldn't handle. Besides, mom's new material is better at keeping the cold away," Lucy thrusts out her arms. The fleece is soft to the touch albeit slightly bulky. It looks thicker and has an insulating layer underneath it, uncommon to what one usually finds in the Enchanted Forest. 'Wait, is that a clothing membrane?' Rumpelstiltskin thinks incredulously. He turns to the woman standing close to the hearth. She extends her hand and rubs them together before raising her eyes to meet his. Her strained smile causes a lump to form in his throat. Will she smile freely at him as she did once upon a time?
"Experimenting with wool, again, my dear?"
Belle gives a noncommittal hum before placating his curiosity, "The winters are getting harsher. We need alternative fabric." This is news to him. "What we have is not perfect, but at least it is better than traditional wool. The whole process is complicated and costly, though. We're still trying to figure out how to make the wool less bulky and find a workaround to reduce our expenses without compromising its quality. Only the Merino's wool is light and durable enough to withstand the harsh process. Then there's the waste issue..." the rest of her words are lost on him. Her animated hands distract him, moving in motion to her explanation. Blue eyes ablaze with excitement make him miss those days where no chasm exists between them.
"Are you even listening?" someone whispers harshly in his ear. Startled, he almost drops his daughter. She squeaks before tightening her grip around his neck.
"I'm sorry. It must bore you to hear all that. It has been a while since anyone outside our research group shows any interest," Belle blushes prettily.
"Oh no, no, no. It is all very interesting. However, I recommend using smaller needles. You'll get durable, high-density stitching without the unwanted bulk." He wants to suggest magic to achieve her goal, but where would that lead him? Far removed from her than he can bear and probably lose the only star that shines down on his bleak world. Belle's hate may smite him but he would surely turn to dust if she denies him his daughter.
Tearing his eyes away from his wife, he looks back at his daughter. A mischievous smile forms on his lips before he whispers, "Were you able to conjure the blue flames that I taught?" Her haughty smirk is all the answer he needs.
The little family soon goes about their activities. Belle decides to make herself scarce by heading to the kitchen while the imp and his daughter spend their time in his lab—practicing potions they told the blue-eyed woman before they scurry up the flight of stairs leading to the lab.
Quietness reigns over the castle, only the occasional laughter breaks the calmness. The day proves to be the family's normal and uneventful day... that is until dinner came.
"...grandpa said he'll get Bruce to train me on the art of sword fighting," Lucy ends her story with a flourish of her arms.
"Bruce?" Rumpelstiltskin hisses. Who is this Bruce and how much of his daughter's life had he missed in mere three months? Is it possible for so many things to take place in just a short time? Dinner quickly tastes like sour grapes in his mouth.
"He's grandpa's favourite knight. He was mama's protector, too!"
Lucy's eye turns as big as saucers at her slip, her lips forming an 'O' shape. She looks helplessly at her mother. Said mother develops a sudden deep interest in her lobster. Setting aside his cutlery, Rumpelstiltskin leans back in his chair; one hand rests on the armrest. Tracing the edge of his nails with the pad of his thumb, he waits until his petite wife sighs before meeting his eyes.
"Rumpel—"
"Why did you need protecting?" he cuts her off.
Belle's cheeks turn slightly pink and she knits her eyebrows before answering, "It was nothing serious. Just someone who was concerned over what it'll mean to his business should our textile proves to be a success. He destroyed some of our supplies. That was all."
"Were you hurt?" he straightens his back. He'll castrate the bastard if she was.
"Only the factory suffered, Rumpel," his ire is somewhat softened at her use of his name, "and I know how to defend myself." Well, that's another surprise to add to his ever-growing list of things-i-missed-with-my-family.
"Did Bruce also give you self-defense lessons?" he growls as jealousy's green hands wrap around his heart.
"Actually, yes, he did," she says coolly but the fire in her eyes and her stiff posture betray her stoic face. Oh, how he misses seeing that same glint at their most passionate moment. Her eyes would darken and the corner of her right lips would rise in challenge. His fingers are itching to hold her.
Rumpelstiltskin snaps from his reverie when Belle drawls, "I don't see why it concerns you."
A retort nearly falls from his lips but he quickly stops himself. He turns to his daughter whose eyes dart between him and Belle. Noticing her glassy eyes, he swiftly reaches her side, cradling her in his arms and whispering soothing words into her hair.
Belle wordlessly rises from her seat and approaches them. She kisses the top of Lucy's head and whispers an apology.
"Forgive us, young one." Catching Belle's eyes Rumpelstiltskin says, "I think we should call it a day."
He holds out a hand to his wife. She hesitates for a moment before accepting it. Together they walk in solemn silence to their daughter's room. The clacking of their heels on the marble floor resounds through the grim castle.
Lucy struggles against the sandman's spell. She grasps her father's hands and pleads that he stays with her a little bit longer. After what happened at dinner, she's certain her mother will insists on heading home tomorrow.
Her father strokes her hair and hums her favourite lullaby, occasionally straightening out her blanket. To his left a dark silhouette leans against the bedroom's doorframe. Lucy doesn't want to think of her mother right now. She has plenty of time to spend with her in the coming weeks but only scant days with her father. Tearing her eyes away from the sombre figure, Lucy requests a bedtime story from her father. As always, he complies.
"What would you like to hear, Lucy?"
"About a dragon and a knight."
A sad smile flits over her father's face before he begins in the soft voice that she loves, "Once upon a time there was a lady knight who loved to read. She scoured every nook and cranny of the Enchanted Forest for books. Other knights think she was an odd wee thing to find pleasure in the written words. 'Knights should fight dragons, not read books,' they said amongst themselves. However, they left her alone since she never caused trouble, and only befriended her when they needed her help. Their actions made the lady knight lonely, but she didn't mind it a whit.
One day, while looking for a particular book on healing plants, the knight stumbled over a horde of treasure. Her eyes lighted up at her finding. Others may not call her discovery a treasure horde, as it was neither gold nor silver. The knight had actually stumbled upon rows and rows of books in a dark cave. Books of every kind filled up the cave walls. Enchanted, the knight grabbed a book and started reading.
Hours passed without the knight's notice.
The knight yawned when she finished reading. She stretched her back and her hand touched something solid and metallic. Alarmed, she slowly turned around. A dragon was looking at her intently. She screamed and backed away. The dragon flinched and told her he didn't want to harm her. He grabbed a few books between his claws and laid them at her feet before taking a large step back.
'These are for me?' the knight asked.
The dragon nodded his head and tried to flash a friendly smile.
'Thank you,' she said before picking up the pile of books.
'You can always come for more once you've finished them,' said the dragon.
The knight thanked him before running off into the sunset.
It was ten days later when the knight came back to the cave. This time, the dragon was present, reading a book and rolling with laughter. The dragon stopped short at the knight's greeting.
'Oh, you came back!' twittered the dragon.
'I wasn't going to but something changed my mind,' confessed the knight.
The dragon welcomed the knight into his cave and together they read in companionable silence, which then became their weekly routine.
As the months passed, both dragon and knight formed friendship over their mutual love for books..." her father's voice trails off over the last word. His eyes are blank and his body is still. Lucy wonders what he is thinking of before calling out to him, snapping him from his trance.
"Oh, sorry... where was I?"
"The dragon and knight became friends," Lucy explains.
"Yes... over time, the other knights were curious where the lady knight disappeared off to every week. She was never there anymore whenever they needed help. Curious, they decided to follow her when she told them she would be away for two days.
Following her from a safe distance, they looked at each other with concern when they saw her entering a dragon's cave. They hid behind a boulder near the cave's entrance and shock etched on their faces to discover her acting friendly with a dragon. Thinking the dragon had enchanted her with his powers, they attacked him with their swords. Worried for his friend's safety, the dragon pushed her behind him, ignoring her attempts to still his worries.
Fire shot out from his mouth, instantly killing the lady knights' friends.
Horrified, the lady knight ran away from the cave.
The dragon searched for her far and wide but she hid herself well. He never did get to apologise for his action, but he never gave up hope that someday they'll cross paths and he would be able to earn her forgiveness."
Lucy scrunches up her face. "That wasn't a happy tale."
"Not everything is sunshine and rainbows, sweetheart."
"The knight shouldn't have run. They were friends. She should have stayed and confronted him." A yawn escapes her, and she snuggles further underneath the blanket.
"Sometimes, even friends find it hard to face one another with the truth."
"But—" her father silences her with a finger on her lips.
"Sleep, sweet one."
Losing her battle with the sandman, Lucy gives in to her tired body.
Hidden in the darkened hallway Belle leans her head on a wall, arms encircling her knees. Her husband's story echoes through her as she picks on the loose threads of her dress. At the creaking sound of the floorboards, Belle turns her head to the source.
"May I join you?"
Belle takes in the diminutive man's appearance. His jaws are tight and one hand holding the wall for support. Nodding her head, Rumpelstiltskin sits opposite her and leans against the wall. His legs extended forwards.
Quietness reigned over the couple. Suffocating them. Drowning them.
"Did the dragon find his knight?" she begins.
There is a long pause before he replies, "He did."
"Did he tell her why he killed them?"
"He tried, but the words refuse to come."
"Why?"
"He's afraid. So afraid."
"Of what?"
There is a long pause before Rumpelstiltskin replies, "Of her rejection. Of failing her again. He can't change what he is. He lost so much that has neither hope nor faith left."
Belle closes her eyes. "If he doesn't try to explain then how could she understand?"
"Belle—"
The way he says her name in that infuriating broken tone breaks something inside of her. "Don't 'Belle' me, Rumpelstiltskin!"
He looks at her with eyes like their daughter's.
"You need to stop making excuses. You should have said something. Instead, you left me in the dark. I denied every signs around me because I believed in you. I trusted you. I told myself that you're no longer that power addict dealmaker." She raises a hand when he tries to interrupt. "It takes two for a relationship to work, Rumpel. You can't expect me to do everything for both of us." Tears are now streaming down her face.
Rumpelstiltskin grits his teeth, his eyes threatening to turn into slits, "I warned you that I am a monster. I never lied who I am to you. If you've lived my life you would know that monsters do not get happy endings. Monsters need to grab what little joy they can because eventually, that'll be taken away from them, too! I tried to be good, Belle. I tried! But look where that got me? I lost my son, the one whom I spent three centuries looking. I lost my Bae. I lost my freedom. She tortured me, Belle! Do you know what it feels to have your dignity and freedom stripped away from you?" He is breathing heavily now, eyes wild like a provoked creature. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT FELT TO BE FORCED INTO DOING SOMETHING YOU DO NOT WANT?" A single punch leaves a hole in the wall.
"How do you expect me to understand if—"
"Use that brilliant brain of yours, Belle! You saw the signs yet you ignored it. Stop blaming me for what happened to us! How the hell do you expect someone who went through what I did to eloquently put them into words? I'm broken. I'm tired. I want to forget! I want my freedom and I want to be free from that fucking dagger!"
"True Love's kiss can give you that freedom, too," she protests weakly, but she already knows what his answer will be.
He pulls at his hair and giggles maniacally. "Which part of what I said do you not understand? MONSTERS. DO. NOT. GET. HAPPY. ENDINGS. Power is certain. It protects those I love. Without it, I am a cripple. Without it, I am powerless. WITHOUT IT, I AM NOTHING!"
Belle's sits rooted to her spot. Finally the truth is out. Her husband hugs himself, rocking back and forth. Fear and sadness roll of him in waves. She's certain that no matter what state her husband's in, he'll never harm her. However, she's still uncertain of the extent of damage done unto him by Zelena and those before her. Oh, how she hates that wicked woman!
At her husband's whimpers, Belle takes a moment to look at him... to really look at him. Another flow of tears slide down her cheek; her heart reaches out to him as he repeats 'I'm worthless' like a mantra. Drained of his anger, what's left behind is nothing but a shell of a man.
"But it is also the reason you lost those around you," she tries to reason with him. Belle wipes the wetness from her eyes, "I only wanted you. You said True Love is the most powerful magic of all. Yet you let it escape from your fingers for something lesser."
"You do not understand, Belle—"
"Stop telling me what I can and cannot understand, damn it!"
She would have laughed at her husband's comical face had this been a different scenario.
"It appears we've reached an impasse."
A snort is her only response.
"Then I have truly lost you." Rumpelstiltskin slowly rises from his position on the floor. He walks to the door next to her and turns the door handle. To his bedroom. Alone. He doesn't even offer to walk her to her chamber like always. And it hurts that he didn't ask. Is this what they have become? Two broken souls who are unable to release one another—desperately holding onto the gossamer thread of their love.
She will not deny that her heart still yearns for him. She did vow to love all of him, the good and the bad. But does she want to go through the pain all over again? In a heartbeat, she already knows what she wants.
"Rumpelstiltskin, wait..." Her husband's hand stills on the door handle. She stands to face him, determined to make him listen to her. "What if—what if—" she falters. Her husband looks at her intently, his eyes searching her face for the final blow. Gathering her courage, she tries again, "You said the dragon found his lady knight, right?" He nods stiffly. "What if the knight insists on hearing the dragon's reasons? What—what do you think he should say to her?"
Rumpelstiltskin licks his lips. "He should say he's sorry... sorry for his rashness. He should have listened to her and not let his past controls his present... his future."
Belle couldn't stop her strangled sob even if she wanted to.
Her husband lifts his hand but stops short of touching her. His hand ghosting over her face.
"If he said those things then I am sure the knight will listen and help him heal," she says through her tears.
"Darling..."
"She'll also tell the dragon that there'll be no more chances if he screws this up. She doesn't know if she can survive another heartbreak."
Belle is unable to tell if Rumpelstiltskin's face is twisting in pain or happiness. Maybe both.
"Thank you, Belle."
They stand there in uncomfortable silence before Belle breaks the tension.
"Well, I'll be heading to my room, then,"
She's only ten paces away when Rumpelstiltskin splutters, "May I walk my lady knight to her chambers?"
Turning to him, she smiles before holding out her hand.
Fingers intertwined, they take the first step towards healing their fragile hearts.