Chapter 3
~~~~Storybrooke~~~~
Mr. Gold was a powerful man. He walked around the town as if he owned the place. He was frightening and he knew it, in fact, he relished in it.
His humble pawnshop was something he took pride in. Every day he took great care to gently dust each and every object in his possession. It was all organized to his liking. There was a feeling that each object had its place for a reason, though it had no real logical order, and he could do nothing but comply. To others it was like every other pawnshop, hastily thrown together and loaded with crap. But to him, it was perfection. Not one thing in his pawnshop was broken, scarred or rusted. He polished every brass, shined every guitar, and restored every faded paint job. His handiwork was pristine, his repairs seamless. There weren't even fingerprints marring the glass display cases.
It was his haven.
His revenue came from his many business deals, and real estate investments. The pawnshop was not to make a paycheck. It was to escape. Very few people entered his shop, and they rarely stayed very long anyways, usually only coming in long enough to get what they seeked and then high tailing it out of there.
It was his perfect nostalgic antique heaven.
The only flawed item in his shop was a cup. A teacup. A simple little chipped teacup, sitting as the centerpiece in one of his displays.
Yes, it was chipped, and no it wasn't expensive but there was something about it he couldn't put his finger on. It had been there for as long as he could remember. There was a strange sort of wholeness in its marred state. Like it was meant to have that chip and it would be incomplete without it.
Mr. Gold found himself staring at that cup more often than not, pondering its existence and its strange enchantment over him. When cleaning the objects in the case he would find himself spending an extra few minutes just rolling that cup in his hands before coming back to his senses and putting it back in the display.
Today was no different as he shook his head, once again catching his eye wandering towards it.
"It's just a cup," he muttered to himself.
It had been distracting him all day for some reason. He normally was drawn to it but never this much in one day. Usually only once or twice his eye would wander but today it was all he could do not to look at it.
Gold let out a deep sigh and pushed his hand through his hair. The last few days he'd been feeling completely off, with everything. It started yesterday night in fact, and from that moment then to this moment now he had felt off kilter, as if there was something strange going on around him.
He looked up at the clock on the wall, then blinked. Was it really only just 10?
He checked his watch. It was.
He sighed and grabbed his cane from its perch and hobbled to the back room to grab his car keys from their hook and to flick the master light switch.
He was out of the store in 15 minutes and climbing into his gold Cadillac parked out in the private parking lot in the back.
It was time to collect the monthly rent at Granny's. It was always the first stop on his rounds. Terrorizing the old woman and her scantily clad granddaughter had almost become a well-enjoyed hobby of his, purely for his entertainment.
The drive to the B&B was short and rather uneventful.
He trudged up the walkway and peered through the window. He saw a flash of what looked like blonde hair walking past the glass. That certainly wasn't the saucy hooker-in-training he'd come to associate with this quaint B&B, in fact, he didn't recognize her at all.
She was new, and rather pretty, not that he cared, but there usual wasn't visitors to this sleepy little town, at least not for the twenty-eight or so years he remembered being here.
He walked in, barely making a sound, and gesturing to Ruby to keep his presence quiet as he watched this new woman request a room for the night.
"Now, what's the name?" the elderly woman asked with a hidden excitement.
"Swan, Emma Swan," she said.
"Emma," Gold muttered the voice ringing through his ears like a bell, and suddenly the floodgates had opened. He saw himself as a young lad, his mother teaching him at the spinning wheel. He saw a young girl with dark hair and blue eyes growing into a beautiful woman, kissing him, smiling at him, holding a baby that grew into a boy. He saw himself as a soldier taking out his own leg and then crawling home, shunned from the army as a coward. He saw himself raising that boy by himself. He saw that boy grow into a young man, stronger and braver than he ever was. He saw that boy jumping into a portal. He saw a knife with a name etched into its blade. He saw her; a beautiful woman with chocolate locks and stunning eyes. He saw a creature with golden eyes and green-gold skin screaming into a mirror. He saw a cup. Then he heard a name, like it was whispered into his ear, and everything came back to him in the breath of a second. Rumplestiltskin. "What a lovely name," he said to the stranger, smiling at her. She'd come at last, the child he had fantasized about on end while locked away in the darkness, waiting for the curse to be enacted.
Before he knew it Granny was holding a wad of cash out for him to take with a look that said she wanted him away from her establishment as soon as possible. On a normal day he would take his sweet time just to annoy her but at this moment he found a distinct urge to be back at his shop.
"It's all here," Granny said sternly.
"Yes, yes, of course it is, thank you," he took it quickly, wanting, on one hand to get to know the beautiful stranger a little bit more but on the other hand wanting to get back to his shop.
He took one last look at the blonde with a softening glint in his eye. This was his salvation.
"Enjoy your stay, Emma," the name rolled off his tongue like an old friend. He remembered the countless, endless utterings of it in the bleakness of his prison underneath the enchanted forest. The need to have this name so perfectly ingrained into his subconscious for this very reason, so that it would bring him back.
He left as casually as he could manage, not wanting to cause a stir. Young Ruby looked slightly shocked, probably thought he'd been flirting, or maybe she'd just never seen him so kind. That gave him a little twinge of self-satisfaction, or, at least the Gold side of him, for now he seemed to be two separate lives living in one conscious though he was slowly ceasing to care about the false one as the strong memories of his real identity continued to pour into his mind. He needed to find it and hold it.
He raced in his Cadillac back to the shop, a breath away from kicking his own door in.
His hands were shaking as he dug the display case key out of his pocket and struggled to fit it in the lock. He bit down on a cry of rage as his nervousness and excitement made it hard to focus his hands on their task.
Finally he managed to get the key in and pull the glass back. Like a drug addict getting his hit, the moment he touched the smooth china a wave of relief washed over him. His heart began beating the way it was supposed to. His mind calmed and his memories stilled and the whole world seemed to focus in. He cradled the chipped cup against his chest as he breathed in a deep sigh.
"I'm back," he muttered. "I'm back."
~~~~Fairy Tale Land, Rumplestilkskin's Prison~~~~
He was growing to rather enjoy the darkness inside his cell. It was soothing in its own way. He liked that no one could see him, and for long periods of time he would just sit in the darkness and reminisce or fantasize.
Sometimes he thought of Bae, and what he'd look like after all this time. He imagined his son being handsome and brave with his eyes and dark hair. If he stopped cutting it, it was probably past his shoulders by now. He used to cut his son's hair. Keeping it short kept it from being infested with lice and kept it out of his eyes. He imagined what he would say to his son after all this time. What he would tell him about his journey to find him? Belle?
That's when his mind would dwindle off of his boy to the beautiful princess who'd captured his heart forever. Truly, when she was around he had never been so happy in a long time. When she left he had never been so lost.
Even before she was gone forever, when he sent her away and gave her the option to run, his whole world felt hollow and gray. Now he welcomed it, it meant she would always be with him in that regard, whenever the silence set in and his mind would quiet down there she would be, dancing in the library of his thoughts. He liked to watch her; occasionally he would join her.
Then there were some days he dared not think at all, in case he lost his mind, granted, there might be very little left to salvage anyways.
Today though, he had only one thought on his mind, and it was a name. The name rolled around in his mouth and lathered on the tip of his tongue. Emma. Emma, Emma, Emma. Emilee, Emilaa, Emma. It almost made him giddy to the point of hysteria. A giggle erupting from his throat, echoing off the stone walls and reverberating back in his ears.
"Emma," he cackled. "Emma, Emma, Emma!"
He jumped up and hopped around.
"Emma! Emma!" he sang loudly. "Emma," he gestured as if he was greeting someone then quickly shifted on his feet to face where he'd been standing. "Emma," he curtsied to himself, erupting into another fit of giggles. "Emma, Emma." He was introducing himself to his imaginary ponderings of his savior.
"Quiet you!" barked one of the guards.
That stopped his jovial tea party right on its ass.
"Who said you were invited?" he sneered.
"Shush!" commanded the guard.
"Make me," he giggled, slithering up to the bars of the cell. "I'm only an imp," he teased. "Come closer...so I can scratch your eyes out!" he hissed, jumping on to the bars, sticking one spindly clawed hand through and swiping viciously for a few seconds before retreating and bursting into laughter.
The guard was about to yell at him once again.
"Don't," the head guard ordered. "You'll only provoke him further."
"Yes sir," said the guard.
"Yes sir," Rumplestiltskin mocked.
"I'll take your post, go watch the main entrance," ordered the head guard and the other one nodded and left, giving Rumplestiltskin a wary look as he left.
"Aww, we were only playing," Rumple batted his eyelashes.
The guard didn't say anything, just looked at him with his usual steely gaze.
"Though…you may be more fun," the imp's eyes matched the guards with an eerily playful and twisted gaze. "I know! Let's play a game!" he cackled. "I get three chances to guess your name, if I get it wrong you get a prize, but if I win…" Rumplestiltskin's grin twisted at the thought. "Well…then you'd owe me a favor."
"I don't play your games Dark One," the head guard said sternly. "I know better."
Rumple hacked and spat.
"You know squat!" he barked then descended into a bout of sing-songed giggles. "Is it Peter?"
The guard didn't answer.
"No, you'd make an awful Peter, it's not in your face. Hmm, let's see. Angular jaw, noble by birth, not born into wealth but your family was under the respect of good old Kind George…but then again, you were quick to join Charming's little coup. Francais?" Rumple laughed again. This was so entertaining for him. "Oh dear, I'm almost embarrassed I said that. Oh my, my, my, my, my. Broad shoulders, strong chin, you carry soldier's girth proudly. Look better in the uniform than I did! Ha! What could it be, what could it be? Mother died when you were young right? You haven't got a touch of femininity in you, I can tell. Father was a proud soldier like yourself. You're really like an open book…books…she liked books…niiahahah!" Rumple hopped around in a circle, clapping his hands together. He really liked this game. "Oh! I've got it! Yes, yes…I see it now…oh it's so obvious…your parents weren't very creative now were they…Mereck?"
The guard's whole body tensed, though he tried his best to hide it.
"Heheha! I win!" the imp cackled.
"You cheated," the guard said tensely.
"Now how am I supposed to do that? I just went over for a little stroll over to your dear old mum's and asked her," he giggled again.
The guard relaxed with a smirk.
"Isn't my mother dead?"
"Oh that…no, I just said that to give you a false sense of security," the imp smirked and clapped his hands. "What do I get for guessing right?"
"Nothing," the guard spun around and left the imp alone to his own cackling.
"Not even a cup of water?" the imp giggled. "It's a tad dry in here."
The guard stopped.
"All right deal maker, I'll give you a cup of water and you'll stay nice and quiet," the guard pulled out the enchanted rope from his satchel.
Rumple grinned and held out his wrists so that the rope could tie around them, preventing him from lashing out and hurting one of the guards.
The guard picked up a dingy looking bucket and a tin cup and dunked the cup inside the bucket. He placed the cup into Rumple's clawing hands.
"Good…now leave us," ordered Rumple. "I'd like to be alone…Mereck."
The guard looked at him for a long second before turning and leaving. Rumple giggled. Oh, the power of a name.
He held the cup in one palm of his hand and held the other over the water, just dabbing it with the claw of one finger. The water swirled to life and a face appeared in the reflection.
"Hello Queenie," he grinned. "What's this I hear about you enacting the Dark Curse. Be still my beating heart."
Regina glowered at him in her usual manner.
"You know why I called," her tone was tense, as always. "The curse…how do I get it back from Maleficent."
"Well, you shouldn't have traded it for that wimpy little sleeping curse in the first place," he sneered at her.
"How Rumple?" she barked.
"She won't give it to you willy-nilly, not even for a new unicorn. You gave her that curse and she intends for it to never be used," he looked deeply into the cup. "By the way…is that new lipstick?"
Regina scowled at him.
"What do you want Rumple? I want her weakness, so what do you want?" asked Regina tersely.
"I want something currently in the hands of our enemy…I want my cup," she sneered. "Before you go through with this curse that is what I want."
"You mean that dinky little chipped thing your pretty little maid dropped on the floor, oh Rumple, that is precious," Regina teased.
"It is worth more to me than you are," Rumple scowled.
"Now you are just being hurtful," Regina teased. "I'm surprised at you Rumple, I figured of all people you would be the least inclined to lose all that you have. Do you have nothing to say about me enacting the curse."
"I'm not your father," he shrugged. "Do what you want."
"Yes, not that you haven't thought about it once or twice," she smirked.
That had hit a nerve in him and he used all his control to reign the venom in.
"Bring me my cup," he said through gritted teeth. "Or you can fight Maleficent on your own. Deal?"
Regina scowled again.
"Deal."
He smirked and then tossed the cup out of his hands. That woman…infuriated him sometimes.
"Oh guards!" he called with his usual shrill tone. "I seem to be tied up here!"