"The curse is coming." It was the phrase on everyone's lips, the knowledge in their wide, frightened eyes as Belle fled from the castle of her former imprisonment to the castle that currently held Rumplestiltskin. It was what Regina's poor enslaved huntsman had said before freeing her in secret, urging her to be with her loved ones. She had thanked him profusely for taking the risk, as well as for telling her that she might find Rumplestiltskin in Snow white's dungeons, but she knew she would never be able to repay him. All she could do was ensure she didn't waste his gift. For better or for worse she had said her goodbyes to everyone else that mattered when she left with the dark one, but she didn't want to be flung into a curse with so much unfinished business between herself and her true love. So she stole a horse and rode for her life, able to distinguish roiling purple clouds of magic far out on the horizon, advancing towards the kingdoms slowly but steadily. She had to make it in time.
She was glad that Regina had clothed her in a long blue dress that was ridiculously fine for someone who sat in a cell all day, because it marked her as a woman of noble birth despite being a bit worse for the wear. She approached the castle and was admitted immediately. The guards clearly had more important things on their mind than one wind tousled girl. Belle knew a moment of curiosity and excitement as the doors opened and she made her way through an entranceway. She had heard of Snow White, the beautiful black haired princess who Regina had such hate for, orphaned and turned queen at a young age, but had never seen her before. It seemed today was not to be the day. Inside the castle was chaos, with no noble person present to receive her. She questioned three frantic servants without receiving an answer, until finally she grabbed a maid's arm as she passed and practically screamed, "Do you know where I can find Rumplestiltskin?" The girl, younger than Belle by a few years, went pale at her words and said
"You dare speak his name, today of all days when there is already so much dark magic about?" Belle took a deep breath, searched within herself for some reserve of patience, and found none.
"Tell me where he is or I'll say it again." The maid pointed at a side passageway and stammered
"Take the stairs all the way at the end, on the right, and go down three flights. You can't miss his cell." She shuddered. Belle managed a smile and said
"Thank you for your help." As she found the proper staircase and began to descend, nerves and questions she had not allowed herself to ask before intruded on her thoughts. What if Rumplestiltskin did not want to see her? After all she had been Regina's prisoner for a long time and he had not come for her. What if he laughed at the love she still cherished for him, and refused to admit that he felt the same way after everything? She shook her head. The only way to be sure was to ask. She needed to see him, at least one more time.
The stairs ended in a long, gloomy hallway, and she could barely distinguish a cell with spiked bars and a compact figure pacing behind them. It stilled at her approach and called,
"The curse is cast dearie, what else could you possibly need from me?" in a high, mocking voice. She remembered that voice, though he'd almost completely stopped using it with her by the end of their time together.
"We had a deal, Rumplestiltskin." She said quietly as she finally got close enough to distinguish his features. "Forever isn't quite over yet."
"Belle?" His voice had lost all affectation. It was horse and raw and hopeful and desperate and he rushed to the bars of his cell to see her better. "You're alive?" She couldn't help smiling as she took in the strange glittering skin and wide, black, earnest eyes that she had missed so much. It was sad to see him behind bars, though she was almost certain he wouldn't have been there unless he wanted to be. That almost made it worse, that he was so intent on casting himself as a monster.
"Yes." She managed, her throat feeling constricted suddenly. "Did you think that I wasn't?" His face darkened.
"Regina." He spat. "She told me you had- thrown yourself off a tower." He said the words in a hurry, as though they hurt as they left his mouth. She shook her head.
"It was Regina who had me locked up, otherwise I would have come much sooner." He let out a guttural growl at that and wrapped his hands around the bars of his cage.
"I'll kill her. I'll skin her alive." Belle shook her head, placing a hand on one of his. He stilled immediately.
"We have so little time left. Please, let's just talk about good things."
"Good things?" He repeated hollowly. She felt herself color.
"Maybe, things we wanted to say to each other, back in your castle, that we never did?" She didn't want to have to be the first to speak of her love, again. The memory of him shaking her, screaming that no one could ever love him, was still too fresh even though it had been so long. Rumplestiltskin sighed and bowed his head, his curls hanging to obscure his eyes.
"There's no point Belle. When the curse gets here we won't remember any of it." Her stomach dropped at that.
"Ever?" She asked, horrified. The thought of losing her memories of home, of him, of everything that made her Belle, was terrifying. He shrugged.
"If all goes according to plan, one day we will remember again. But it will be a very long time." He picked his head up and she saw that his brow was furrowed. He hadn't meant to be so honest. "I suppose there's no harm in you knowing that, but I wouldn't spread it around, for your own safety." Belle nodded and filed away the knowledge that Regina's curse was part of Rumplestiltskin's plan for later consideration. She had more pressing matters to attend to.
"Then there's every reason to truly speak to each other now, while we can." He looked at her a long moment, his eyes going softer and softer until finally, in almost a whisper he said
"I love you Belle. More than I've ever loved any woman. More than I knew I could. I didn't realize I still had a heart until it was yours." She smiled and felt tears prick the corners of her eyes.
"And I love you Rumplestiltskin." But it seemed he wasn't finished yet.
"And you're beautiful, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I hated you, when I first noticed, when I couldn't stop looking at you like I was a foolish boy again and it drove me wild that you couldn't keep your damned hair in order." He reached through the bars of his cell suddenly, tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and brushed his knuckles down her cheek, leaving a tingling electricity as she closed her eyes. "I've wanted to do that for so long." She placed her hand over his to keep it from leaving and regarded him from under her lashes.
"How long did you hate me?" He pulled a face at her.
"Who said I stopped?" She swatted his hand away and laughed.
"You were doing so well, and then you just had to ruin it." She chided. He smiled, one of his rare real ones without a trace of mockery.
"It took me about a fortnight to realize your insides were as sickeningly good as your outsides." She raised an eyebrow.
"You could use some practice courting ladies." His face fell.
"I wish I had time Belle, to give you everything you deserve. To let you find out how foolish you are for loving me." She shook her head.
"You're wrong, Rumplestiltskin." She paused, then said, "I know this is all probably about your son, that even when we remember you will only have time for him." His face twisted in guilt and sadness, but he didn't try to deny it. "But just promise me that I will see you again. That at some point, you will come back to me, even if it's only for a short time."
"I promise." He said fervently, grasping her hand once more and bringing it up to his mouth for a nervous, lingering kiss.
"You can kiss me but I can't kiss you? That hardly seems fair." His hand tightened on hers and his gaze was riveted to her lips.
"I would have to agree."
"You know that was my first kiss." She admitted, biting her lip, "But I never wanted it to be my last." He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
"Are you trying to torture me?"
"Trying to make sure you keep your promise." She teased. He cocked his head, as though he was listening to a far off sound.
"The curse is almost here." He said gravely.
"Will it hurt?" It was a stupid, infantile question, and she was embarrassed immediately. But he smoothed a thumb over the back of her hand and said
"No sweetheart, I won't let it." She saw it then, purple smoke beginning to fill up the chamber, coming from nowhere and everywhere. She grasped his hand tighter, reaching for the other one as well, and met his eyes.
"I meant it, you know." She blurted, a little panicked now. "About keeping our deal. I still want forever with you." He looked at her like she was a miracle, and said
"I've learned not to let go of priceless things." It was a nice last thing to hear, and his fingers intertwining with hers was a nice last thing to feel, before everything faded to darkness.
28 Years Later
"Lacey?" She sighed as her focus was snapped away from the pool table. She'd had the perfect shot lined up too. But she straightened up and turned to face the owner of that deep Scottish voice.
"Yeah?" She asked, not bothering to keep the accusation out of her voice. There had to be something in the water, she thought. First that blonde woman with the leather jackets had come to stay from out of town, which never happened, and since then the mayor had been storming around town looking like she had even more of a stick up her ass than usual. And now this. She knew who Mr. Gold was of course. Everyone did. But he had never spoken two words to her before. Yet here he was, wearing a three-piece suit in the sketchiest bar in town and staring at her. All men stared at Lacy (as did plenty of people who weren't men, for that matter), but this was different. His gaze did the usual lips/boobs/butt circuit, but then lingered on her eyes with an expression that she would have labeled as longing on anyone else. It was freaking her out, to be honest, and she said "Well? Did you want something?"
"I wanted, I ah-" He paused, looking lost. This guy owned most of Storybrooke, wasn't he supposed to be smart or something? "Could I buy you a drink?" She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out his angle. Gold didn't seem like the type of guy who scoured bars for an easy lay, but why else would he be interested in her? Now she was curious, and besides Lacey wasn't the type of girl who turned down free booze. So she said,
"Yeah alright." And let him lead her to the bar. "Hey Harry." She nodded at the white haired bartender.
"Lacey. Shot of Jack?" She nodded and he grinned, before his eyes slid to Gold. "Mr. Gold, hello. I'll be ready with my rent at the end of the week, promise." He sighed.
"I'm not here about the rent. I'm just here to enjoy the-" he cast a sarcastic eye around the dimly lit, smoke filled room, "atmosphere. I'll have the same as Miss French, please."
"Coming right up." He said, pouring the drinks out with a flourish and backing away quickly. Lacy raised her shot glass and met Gold's eyes, reminding herself that she wasn't scared.
"Cheers." She said and he nodded and clinked his glass against hers. She threw it back in one and watched as he did the same, looking perfectly impassive as he swallowed. "No shot face, I'm impressed." She said. It had taken Lacey a while to perfect that particular skill. He shrugged.
"It goes down smoother than the blood of small children." She gasped and dropped her shot glass, which hit the floor with a nasty crack. "It was a joke." He said as she bent down to get it.
"Oh shit it's chipped." She groaned, wondering how much Harry would charge her for that. She straightened up to catch a flash of a wide, almost relieved smile on Gold's face before he arranged it back into a neutral expression.
"It's just a shot glass."
"Tell that to Harry. He's a huge cheapskate." She regarded the glass with pursed lips. "You can hardly see it."
"As I own this bar I'd say it was mine." He smirked. "And I'm telling you it's just a little glass."
"Allright, if you say so." She shrugged.
"Are you happy, Lacey?" If she had still been holding a glass she thought she would have dropped it again. She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her that, and this guy was a complete stranger.
"That's a really weird question." She informed him.
"I know." He nodded. "Answer it anyway." And damn it if she didn't kinda like being ordered around by this thoroughly confusing man. She puffed up her lips and blew the air out, considering.
"I mean yeah, I guess. As happy as anyone can be in a bullshit one horse town that doesn't even have any horses."
"You'd like to see the world? Have adventures?" He prompted.
"Yeah sure who wouldn't? But that kinda thing takes money."
"Indeed." He inclined his head. "But no one in town gives you trouble? Regina doesn't bother you?"
"Why do you care?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Let's just say I have a vested interest in your wellbeing." She couldn't decide whether to be flattered or creeped out.
"Allright Mr. mysterious." She sighed, figuring the only way to get more information was to give him some. "No one bothers me unless I wanna bothered. Regina and I got into it once because I tried to liberate her little Sheriff boy toy and she told me to back off."
"You have feelings for Graham?" Gold asked with unmistakable anger. She snorted.
"Feelings is kind of overstating it. I think he's hot and I feel bad for him being so totally whipped by Regina. I probably would have kept trying if he had been at all interested. But the man's loyal to his mistress, I'll give him that."
"I see." Gold said through gritted teeth.
"You're jealous." Lacey crowed. "I don't think your "interest" is that complicated." He grimaced.
"You'd be surprised."
"Try me." She said, leaning across the bar so that the front of her dress fell forward. He shook his head.
"Not tonight. I should be going at any rate. Goodnight, Lacey." He deposited some bills on the bar and used his cane to get down from the stool.
"Night." She said, more confused than ever. And he really did leave, making no attempt to take her home with him, but deftly pocketing the chipped shotglass as he went. He was definitely the weirdest guy she had ever met, and the first that had truly piqued her interest in a long time. She bit her lip, watching through the window as he made his way down the sidewalk, and got up to follow him. Despite his age and borderline rude conversation, there was something magnetic about Mr. Gold, and Lacey knew better than to let something good slip away.