Tea and Broken Promises
Dark Castle is not a place he wishes to bring his daughter, but it is his only resort.
His daughter - his precious Grace, barely 3 years of age - clings to her Papa's neck as Jefferson treks through the forest. The road is close. He can map a path to Dark Castle, he knows the way so well.
Many years of his wild youth were spent there, bargaining and dealing with the Dark One. Rumpelstiltskin is not his friend, but he is the only person Jefferson will trust - or the only person who may trust him in return. Too many bridges he burned along the way with his thoughtless deeds, never caring of the consequences or of the people lay waste in his path.
Now he is paying for all those years.
His wife is gone, leaving Grace without her beautiful mother. Jefferson knows he is to blame. Magic always comes with a price. The price of using the Hat finally ripped him where it hurt.
"Just a little farther, Gracie," he whispers into her hair tickling his cheek. He's out of breath and exhausted from the long journey, but he won't stop, not until his daughter is safe behind Rumplestiltskin's gate.
Jefferson laughs hoarsely as the flickering light of the Dark Castle comes into view. He's so close. Grace will soon be protected from the evil trailing dark shadows at his back. He picks up the pace, ignoring the shooting pains in his overwhelmed legs.
The gate opens at his touch as it always had, and Jefferson lets out a ragged sigh at the relief. He trudges the winding path to the elegant stairs, the foreboding screen of the castle engulfing him with its looming shadow. Grace lifts her head from his shoulder as the heavy oak doors open at his touch just as the gate had.
"We're here, Gracie. We're safe," he tells her. Grace rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, sleepily blinking at the new sights surrounding them.
Only a single lamp burns in the marble hall. Jefferson knows Rumplestiltskin is aware of their presence. He awaits the crackling magic that follows the sorcerer wherever he goes. He steps in a little further, cautious of what's to come. The doors behind him close on their own accord as lamps blaze to life all around them. Jefferson swings around, startled as a jack-rabbit, as Grace buries her face in the crook of his neck.
"Why do you assume you're still welcome here, Jefferson?" a wickedly playful voice melts out of the air and in a flicker of an eye, Rumpelstiltskin is standing before them.
Five years have passed since he stared into Rumplestiltskin's reptilian eyes, and Jefferson's breathe hitches. He isn't afraid of the Dark One – never has been, but his little Grace has never seen such a dreadful spectacle and he fears for her state of mind. Jefferson swallows, his hand pressing firmly between Grace's shoulder blades as if his protective hold could stop the Dark One from any mischief. "I need refuge, and I'm willing to make a deal," he declares with false gusto. He and Rumplestiltskin always had one thing in common: they were both showmen.
"A deal?" Rumplestiltskin's high-pitched trill echoes eerily through the marble hall. He pivots on the balls of his booted feet, leaving Jefferson to stew for an exaggerated moment.
"I know you can't pass up a deal, Rumplestiltskin." Oh, how he's playing with fire! Jefferson stares a burning hole into Rumplestiltskin's waistcoat as the other man paces slowly before sweeping around again. Jefferson finds himself face to face with dilated eyes and a nasty smile.
"True," Rumplestiltskin snarls, but he freezes as his attention catches on the head full of mossy brown hair. He shrinks back only enough to stare at the little one clutched to Jefferson's front. "Who is this?" he asks, raising his gaze to meet Jefferson's.
Jefferson's hand slips up from Grace's back to rest against her head, wishing he could make this deal without exposing her to any of it. "My daughter."
Rumplestiltskin makes a sound of understanding. He points a black fingernail at Jefferson, amusement on his face. "You and the little fair-haired girl's?"
Jefferson nods, feeling his strength running low. Rumplestiltskin had met his wife a few times, and she was neither afraid nor disturbed by the sorcerer's antics. His brave Alice, how he missed her! "She became my wife, but now she's dead."
"My condolences." Rumplestiltskin bows his head in what little sincerity Jefferson thinks he has underneath the rigid armor. He steps closer again, fingers curling up towards Grace's head. "Her name?"
It takes all his willpower to not turn away. Jefferson knows the power of a name, but he must give it or they'd get nowhere with the deal. "Grace" he whispers.
A broad, satisfied smile crosses Rumplestiltskin's lips. "Grace" he calls, leaning forward to be eye to eye with her, "Look at me, dearie."
Jefferson grudgingly loosens his hold as Grace lifts her face from the crook of his heck. She stares at Rumplestiltskin, no fear in her eyes. She purses her lips, gazing curiously. Jefferson can see on Rumplestiltskin's face that he is awaiting the moment Grace shrinks away, convinced of the fear or disgust that he conjures so easily from others.
But Grace doesn't shrink away. As much as Jefferson wishes to protect her, he knows she is a brave girl, just as her mother was. "You're pretty," her little voice fills the tense silence. "You shine."
Rumplestiltskin jerks back, bewilderment covering his features. Jefferson can't help but laugh hoarsely from relief and the unexpected reaction. His little girl surprises him every day with her budding kindness, even at such a young age. Grace is unaware of the magnitude of her compliment, and she stares still-ever-curious at the most powerful man in all the lands.
Rumplestiltskin stands pin straight, the fingers of his right hand curling in and out, seeming lost as to what to do next. Jefferson wonders if the Dark One has finally gone speechless, but Rumplestiltskin's eyes blaze alive again as if coming from a trance. "Let's deal, shall we?"