He should build a bird door. And a mail box. So much mail! He could almost swim in it now that he got his third note. Well, almost. He could definitely juggle them.
This one was another invitation to another White Castle ball. A huge party girl, that Snow White. There are winter celebrations at her castle every year, but this year, to make her daughter feel more at home, Snow White decided to call it Christmas. Henry promised to attend as well. Rumpelstiltskin had to chew up the envelope in order to find out that information. He didn't mind except for the wax seal.
He wasn't sure he was ready to see his lady savior yet. The last memory he recovered was so embarrassing; so intimate; so...
If he went, what would he say? What would he wear? Where would he look? Could he possibly watch her breathe in and out without imagining her naked on top of him, breasts falling and rising as she –
Right. Bad direction. Wrong door. Tigers there.
There was really no way he could decline the invitation, was there. He tried to picture the world in which she called and he didn't come and he was shocked to discover how impossible it was. How did that happen? Sorceress!
Let her have her guest in all his rumpliness, then. He would come in a brand new dress coat and cravat made from dragon wing skin and hedgehog spikes, he would mix all the radish and mint sauce into the punchbowl, he would talk predominantly to her armpit, and then he would get weird. He didn't care.
(He did spend a good hour trying to do something decent with his hair, though. But there was a reason he let it have a life of its own up to now.)
Sadly, his plans were never carried all the way through.
"There you are!" she found him at the buffet table a minute after he materialized at the party. "I need you, I have to dance three dances and I'm out of partners again," she took the mint sauce bowl right out of his hand, hooked her arm into his and dragged him to the dancefloor. "I've danced with James and Abigail's husband Frederick already, and Henry must be coming late, so you arrived just in time to save me."
Before he knew it, they were in position and the music was starting.
"Crap, I don't know this one!" she stage-whispered and then giggled when he tried to lead her into steps she didn't know, signalling every turn or stop. She seemed to have drunk some of the punch before Rumpelstiltskin ruined it because she didn't mind messing up in the public eye. In fact, she was wearing the same dress as on her last party which was quite surely a royal faux pas.
"Ouch," she flinched when she pricked her finger on his hedgehog shoulder pads.
"Sorry," was the first word he got out that evening.
"Didn't want to be touched tonight?" she teased him.
He inspected her hand and took the single droplet of blood into his mouth, healing the finger in the process. Along with it, he consumed another memory.
The second time he bedded her that night – or she bedded him to be exact – it was in his bedroom; his back against the headboard and her sitting on top of him.
„Gold... Should I call you... Rumpelstiltskin?" she whispered in the middle of the act.
"Try it, let me hear it from your lips..."
"Rumpels- -" his name was torn by her mouth as she yelped with pleasure.
"Yesss, call me that," he liked it.
Once they were finished, she closed her eyes and while still catching her breath, she touched her forehead to his in another tender gesture he didn't expect to experience ever again.
"I'm having trouble believing this," he wondered out loud.
"What?" she stole a little nip from his lips.
"This," he kissed back to demonstrate. "I'm not the type of person with whom you should be spending the night before the big day, dearie."
"Oh really? I think you're absolutely the type – absolutely my type."
"Surely not?"
"Yeah you are...Men older than me and bad boys used to be my type. A lot of grief that brought me. Now I make it a rule to date men who think I'm too good for them. A recipe for an unequal relationship, I know, but I'd rather be on the better end of it, cherished and appreciated and in control, than where I always was before that..."
"And whichever type am I, my dear?"
"All of them. I don't know how you do it...But you're all of them," she shook her head with incredulity.
"Why did we stop?"
"Hm?"
"O-oh. Rumpelstiltskin?"
"I'm sorry, you were saying?"
"Look up," Emma pointed to a bundle of mistletoe above them. There was an archway with a note that introduced the foreign tradition to the party as well. It would've been easy to avoid if he was paying attention.
Many dancing couples had already stopped to watch and whisper among themselves.
"Well," the Savior Princess shrugged, "it would be unfair if I didn't follow suit, right?"
There was a hand on the side of face. A soft hand, a woman's hand, a tender touch.
There was another hand at his elbow, a gentle squeeze turning his body closer to a woman's.
There was a woman's body a few inches away from him, warmth radiating from her skin along with a very nice scent.
And there were lips on his lips, just a small peck at first but even that triggered another memory:
"You?" Emma jumped a mere minute after she made herself comfortable in his bed. Fortunately, she put her underwear back on after their first time, otherwise it would be very hard to keep up the eye contact.
"Regina would never even dream about creating the Curse herself, she never had that much power."
"But you had?"
"Yes."
"So all of this..."
"My fault, yes."
She was quiet for a minute.
"I'd do anything for Henry and I've only known him for months," she suddenly said, "so let's say I understand the why. But if all you wanted was to jump to a different world to find your son, why do all this Storybrook crap? How did the Curse become this...travesty?"
"Weaving a curse out of happy endings turned out to be trickier than I thought. I needed more people involved in the curse so that I could use their happy endings, but the more people I involved the more power I needed for the Curse to work. I spent years making it bigger and bigger it until I realized it was impossible. So I sold it in one of my many deals."
"You sold it to Regina?"
"That's how we met, actually."
"For what?"
"A bigger castle."
"You had a castle? You had two castles?" she scoffed.
"I needed one that would match my reputation better. Bigger and darker," he defended himself.
"So you sold the Curse unfinished. Did she make it work, then?"
"Not in a million years," bitterness appeared in his voice, dripping down his throat. "She tried and gave up and traded it for a different curse. Then she decided she wanted it back and tried again, stronger this time, but she still failed."
"Then who was it?"
Mr. Gold gave her a guilty look.
"No...You didn't," she uttered with disappointment. "Why?"
"The world of Snow White and Prince Charming is not that much of a fairy tale for those who aren't Snow White or Prince Charming. You'll see for yourself soon enough."
After the little peck, Emma leaned in for a much more proper kiss and his eyes slid closed. Watched by people that Emma would avoid like the plague once she was completely sober, they partook in a scandalous custom of kissing under the mistletoe. The moment their lips reconnected, another memory from the night returned to him:
The pillow talk after their second time was much more pleasant than the previous one. She told him that somehow, he was the ultimate mix of her types, and then she asked: "What about me? Am I anywhere near your type?"
And he told her as much as he could about his wife and Belle without tearing up, which amounted to about seven sentences with long pauses inbetween. Then he uncovered the information that infuriated him so much it constituted his final push to working with Emma against Regina.
"She's alive?"
"Yes. Trapped in the psychiatric ward, brainwashed and doped daily. There's nothing I can do for her here..."
"But back in the magical world?"
"Maybe. She had been gone for over five years when the Curse was triggered, who knows."
"It's true love, Rumpels."
Suddenly, she rolled on top of him and her hair fell down around his face like a golden waterfall.
"Promise me you'll look for her if we manage to break the Curse."
"I don't know if I can..."
"Then promise me you'll let me help."
"Why?"
"Because I like you, silly," she kissed him, "and true love sounds like something that would make you happy."
"But if you like me, or so you say...Is this you being honorable and selfless?"
"Well of course if you two don't work out I'm more than ready to steal you from her. How honorable is that?" she smirked.
"Mua," Emma ended their kiss with a theatrical sound. Some bystanders gave a forced chuckle and some even tried to clap. "I never said the tradition wasn't awkward!" she told them and they laughed for real. "Now where did the music go?" As her hand left his cheek, the memories fell into place:
"Tell me I can trust you." – "I cannot tell you that, Miss Swan... But maybe soon."
"Oh god...Rumpelstiltskin...It's true, isn't it. The book, the fairy tales, the Curse..." – "Do sit down, Miss Swan." – "Your name is freaking Rumpelstiltskin..." – "Would you like some tea?" – "Which means that Regina is the Evil Queen and Mary Margaret is Snow White..." – "Something stronger, then." – "Is she really my mother?" – "I believe I keep some brandy in the back of the shop." – "Answer me! And what the hell are we doing in your shop?!" – "Would you prefer to have your pretty little meltdown in Granny's Diner?" – "Answer me," she whispered, pleading. So he did.
"Evil isn't born, dearie. It's made."
"You can trust me now, Miss Swan." – "I can? Something changed."
"You worry me, Miss Swan." – "Why?" – "Because deep down, you'll always be a disbeliever."
"You and I...We know who we are...We're in that grey area that shouldn't be in fairy tales."
A surge of power exploded through the Mayor's mansion, shattering windows and tossing furniture around. Mr. Gold was thrown against a wall, but Emma stood unaffected. "She found out!" he roared over the noise of magic that rendered him immobile. "It's now or never! Place the last crystal and go after her, use the wand!" The savior looked at him in shock. She had been counting on him being there with her through the whole deal. "You can do this, Emma, you were born to do this. You are the child of the true love that I used to finish the Curse. You can do this." She gave him a brave nod and went forward to face the Evil Queen.
"You ok? Sorry for attacking you like that," Emma remarked with an impish smile.
He just looked at her in awe.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she became worried.
"Swan Lake?" was the only thing he said, offering her his arm.
"Sure, just let me get my coat."
As they approached a door leading to the castle gardens, the cold draft injected some sobriety into her veins. She asked the footboy who brought her furcoat whether her son had arrived yet, to which the answer was no.
She realized the reason behind Rumpelstiltskin's behavior half-way through the snowy gardens, stopping him in the middle of that living Christmas postcard. They would never make it to the lake.
"You remembered, didn't you."
"Yes," he murmured, facing away from her.
"That's good, isn't it?"
"Good?" he choked on the word. "She's alive, been alive all these weeks, and all I've been doing was making deals and spinning the spinning wheel backwards and receiving notes and dancing with you! The princess should've told me!"
"I wanted to, but I was afraid you'd flip out, call me a liar, trash the room and never come again."
Rumpelstiltskin gaped at her, unable to respond because he would have to agree.
"I'm sorry you've spent all this time not knowing, but believe me, the time wasn't wasted. I did some sniffing around of my own. I think I know where she could be. How about a little trip to Avonlea?"
"Huh?" Rumpelstiltskin made an inarticulate sound. He couldn't believe what she was saying sometimes. She was Emma the Unbelievable. Emma the Unbelievable was taking him to find Her. No running, Rumpelstiltskin. Besides, he was out of excuses. There were exactly twelve spiders under his bed, nowhere to run anymore. Time to face the music of chipped porcelain.
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"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Let us go."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"At least let me change-"
"Now!"
"Ugh, you're insufferable sometimes," she groaned as he teleported them away from the Christmas party. Avonlea was the furthest of White Kingdom's neighbors but still a neighbor with a very similar weather. It was crispy freezing there.
The warlock spun around as if his true love could be found behind the nearest rock.
"Rumpelstiltskin," Emma spat his name, upset because she found herself standing in a foot of fresh snow with nothing but ballroom shoes and stockings covering her legs.
She could hear his frantic panting while he turned from here to there, quite out of his mind at the moment.
"Rumpelstiltskin!" Emma realized that yelling wasn't going to work so she caught his arm and said gently: "Rumpels."
He stopped in his tracks.
"You have to tell me," he whispered desperately, not unsimilar to Emma's own breakdown after she found out that the Curse was real. She nodded.
"We're looking for a place deep in the woods that lies on the border with White Kingdom. It's a clearance with no trees and even no grass, quite a big one and close to a lake."
Rumpelstiltskin calmed down. He closed his eyes and for a while, he seemed not only sane but beyond human intelligence, old and wise and all-knowing. His hands shot out to grasp her and they moved in space again, landing in the middle of a forest that was dead silent.
"Alright, first things first. I demand better shoes."
Not even questioning that, the Dark One snapped his fingers and fulfilled her wish.
"Now follow me," she took the lead this time. "I visited Mr. French, AKA Sir Maurice, the lord of Avonlea, about a week ago. I wrote him some letters before that but I didn't wanna come until he invited me himself. People will tell you much more if they think the whole interview was their idea, you know."
"You lied your nose off in front of him, didn't you, Emma dear?"
"You bet. I told him I was best friends with his daughter back in Storybrook. I told him how sad she was in her padded cell and that I wanted to visit her. You need to know that Mr. French – Sir Maurice – has gotten sick lately. And guilt-tripping someone who thinks he's on his deathbed is easier than stealing candy from a baby."
"How mean, well done, dearie," Rumpelstilskin almost giggled. She hadn't heard him giggle in a while.
"You can't find her, he told me, nobody can, not even me. After I had her exorcised from the Dark One's influence, she was still not herself, he said. And that's when Regina came in."
"Of course she did," he gripped the arm that was leading him across the empty clearing a little more tightly.
"She offered to provide a place for his daughter to come to her senses without time marring her face, that's how she worded it. Apparently, one of daddy's main concerns was that she'd become too old to be profitably married. She would be locked up, safe and sound until she became the daughter he used to know, Regina promised. Of course she forgot to mention that there would be no visiting hours. And another detail..."
"That no human being can turn back into exactly what they used be," Rumpelstilskin knew the catch, he had often used it in his own deals.
"Exactly. She would be imprisoned forever, owned by Regina who was the only one with access to her. The price she asked for doing Sir Maurice this favor was ridiculous if you ask me: Just the neck of these woods to be added to her kingdom.
"To become the Blind Witch's landlord," he explained. "Her gingerbread house is in these woods."
"We're here."
"Where?"
"In front of Belle's tower."
Rumpelstiltskin's body jerked when the name was spoken.
"Emma Emma...I don't see anything."
"Of course you don't. It's invisible," she winked at him.
"A tower that is invisible even to the Dark One?" he frowned.
"Especially to the Dark One. The spell must work in proportion to the amount of magic you possess. The catch is that you need magic to get inside..."
"Clever. I might just start respecting the woman," he grumbled.
"Pity she didn't live to see that," Emma sneered. Suddenly, she hugged him even closer with her arm snaking around his waist. "The door is here," she took his hand and laid it against an invisible surface. "Can you open it?"
"Child's play."
The tower didn't become visible to him until they were several feet up the stairs, so like a blind man, he had to rely on Emma's instructions. It felt like their Christmas dance, just with the roles reversed.
They were almost at the top when Emma tripped on something.
"Stupid skirt... Oh, it's hair," she kicked at the obstacle, a stray of hair that became thicker and more filled with dust as it slithered up the stairs and into the chamber door.
Rumpelstiltskin flew up the stairs so quick he might as well have teleported only to freeze in the doorway.
"B-Belle," he said the name for the first time in five or thirty-three years, depending on the point of view.
A young maiden slowly looked away from the window. It was her and yet, she wasn't quite there. Those eyes... He was stabbed in the heart by those empty eyes.
Emma gave them a minute, two, three... But she didn't hear any words and Rumpelstiltskin never moved from the spot. So she cleared her throat and got down to the damsel saving business. The girl was unresponsive and seemed to have been traumatized for quite some time. So many scars in her psyche and yet her perfect figure and porcelain skin were unaffected. Puddled around the room in dirty and heavy heeps was her hair which Emma tried to cut off but no blade worked. Several broken and blunted tools were lying around the room and for some reason Emma was sure that Belle tried to use them not only for her hair but also for her wrists until she realized that in order to preserve her beauty, the tower not only froze her in time, it also made her invulnerable. Did the Queen even bother to bring her food over the five years? Probably not since she didn't have to.
"Alright, let's get you out," Emma pulled her up and supported her weight which wasn't easy in her ball gown. She gave the unnerved Dark One something to do: "Make sure her hair doesn't get stuck on anything and then walk ahead of us so that you don't step on it."
Once they left the tower, Belle took a shattering breath and fell to her knees. Becoming mortal again made her skin lose that beautiful pink tint and go terribly pale, green even. Suddenly, she gave a terrified sob. Some of her hair was still in the tower and it was slowly being sucked in! Emma and Rumpelstiltskin cut it off immediately.
"She's hyperventilating," Emma noticed.
"This will calm her down," the warlock took her hand and the girl fainted right into his arms.
And that was it. With his attention solely on the beauty, Rumpelstiltskin teleported Emma back to her castle and left. If the whole thing wasn't her idea to begin with, she would feel very much brushed aside. Instead, she tried to be happy about their reunion.
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She did not spend the next month sitting in her room and waiting for Rumpelstilskin to contact her. Though she wondered from time to time how he was doing, she had more urgent things on her mind when winter changed from a white-clad beauty to a cold-hearted murderess.
She accompanied Snow White on her first trip around the kingdom since she gave birth (to Emma - what a mind-boggling thing to think of). Using the supply of thawing potion White Castle kept in the treasury, they helped unfreeze the wells, make the main communications and key mountain trails accessible, heal frostbites and even save a few lives.
Then she joined James as he heeded a call from Cinderella's messenger. She was so secretive about the nature of her plea that they had to meet her in her private chambers.
"Where's Alexandra?" Emma noticed the empty crib rightaway.
"Gone," the princess sighed.
"Rumpelstiltskin?" James asked with trepidation.
"Yes. Your friend Rumpelstiltskin took her four days ago."
Cinderella's eyes penetrated Emma's, but not as accusingly as she expected.
"But that's not all he did, is it?"
"No. He told me where to find my husband."
"Thomas?" James exclaimed. Thomas II had been gone for months now, leaving the country to an aging king, a commoner-born princess and an infant heiress.
"He said that Thomas was taken by fairy magic. That losing my husband and my child would be unfair because I only deserve to lose one." Ella's mouth curved with self-deprecation. "There are many wishing wells in our world, he said, but only one that fairies don't control, only one that can help me. He gave me a map with its location. He promised that well would return my loved one even if it was against destiny."
"Forgive me the cruel question, Ella," James's face looked down right pained with empathy, "but which do you want us to pursue? Alexandra or Thomas?"
"My husband," Cinderella made her choice, "please help me find my husband."
Emma's mind went on a different track whatsoever. Henry. After not arriving to the Christmas ball, Henry wasn't responding to any of her letters. She shrugged it off as just sulking at first, then wondered if their mail was being intercepted, then became nervous about it. This road trip could be useful in more ways than one – she could use the well to find out if Henry was alright – and if not, she could pluck him out of there.
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The boots Rumpelstiltskin mindlessly whipped out for her when saving Belle were perfect for Emma's quest, especially when they entered the mountains.
The dark brown leather armored outfit from Snow White provided the perfect share of protection and mobility.
The cloak hemmed by James's mother was not just for show as it constituted both a sleeping mat and a blanket at nights.
The horse found by Jiminy proved to be a perfect match for its rider since it had a mind of its own that knew when to disobey in order to save Emma's life.
The two-handed sword she got from James was heavy enough to cause damage and perfectly balanced and really beautiful with a Princess Savior insignia on it, but... She would really like to have her good old 9mm instead. Especially in situations like these.
The water in the last uncompromised wishing well was the most delicious thing around – or so the hydra thought because it wouldn't back away from it unless Emma and James slew it. Emma realized that with James being a sword master, she would be much more useful with a bow. Or, again, her 9mm. She distracted the creature by attacking its tail until James managed to cut off the first head, and then she joined him in the front. When the other head was off, the monster's body toppled over and if James hadn't tackled her out of the way, Emma would've been crushed.
Lying on top of him, Emma braced herself on her elbows and waited for a terribly awkward feeling which never arrived. There was no chemistry between them as a man and a woman. With great relief, Emma realized that he already felt like a part of her family.
"Thanks, dad," she smirked.
He gave her a radiant smile, so happy to hear her call him that.
"We should do our thing with the wishing well and move before the heads grow back."
"They frigging grow back?!"
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For the fourth night in a row, Emma had trouble sleeping. They returned from their quest with good news and bad news: Thomas II was returned to his family but Henry was nowhere to be found; all the wishing well showed them was a hole in the ground at his island. Yet again, the fairies visited the royal couple to tell them that their grandson was currently fullfilling his destiny in another world, safe and sound as much as his adventures allowed him. He would return one day to find his true love, they promised.
Besides, James and Snow couldn't afford to leave their kingdom now that the northern regions were paralyzed by frozen food supplies and frost wolf attacks. Should she travel across nine kingdoms alone to find her son when she barely knew how to get to the first border? She rolled in bed every night, worrying and contemplating her place in this world of unfair fairy tales.
Suddenly, someone was sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Oh, so very sorry, didn't mean to do that," Rumpelstiltskin hickuped. Then he started chuckling uncontrollably: "Just one little thought of you and poof, my magic did the rest. Magic magic magic, that's my life, annnnd guess what ~ it comes at a price!" He laughed at his own joke, a sense of tremendous tragedy obvious in the sound. That and a whole lot of alcohol.
"What happened?" Emma asked carefully.
He just kept that unnatural laugh going until it turned into an even stranger noise which she recognized as sobbing. She didn't need the answer. She moved to sit behind him and wrapped her arms around him for comfort.
"She's gone," he told her anyway, about ten minutes later.
"Did she never get better?" she probed gently.
"She did, with magic," Rumpelstiltskin seemed to despise the word now. "She was as healthy on the inside as she could be, healthier than me," he lilted. "But she's not a birdie anymore, she's a flower now. So silent and judgy, just like petunias. I knew she'd never be my Belle again, just like she'd never be her father's little darling, but...The look in her eyes murdered me every single day..."
It felt so foreign to him to fall apart in front of someone who's trying to hold the pieces of him together with their arms. What he was saying didn't want to be said for he was the Dark One, not the Sharing One. Hihihi. Hi.
But this was his lady savior, the one who broke the dragon-teeth bars to his cell and shrugged it off, the one who asked him for help and did him a favor independently on each other, with no deals involved, the one who said she wanted him to be happy. Alcohol helped break the dam and Rumpelstiltskin poured his heart out.
"Her contempt was long on its way, but it didn't quite arrive until she saw me bring Cinderella's child. I gave it to a skinner's wife in exchange for the hide of a talking bear, a perfectly good business. Silly stupid Rumpelstiltskin, he thought she would understand, he thought she would see the still-born that wasn't in the woman's arms anymore but that was still nested in her eyes...She didn't. She came to me the next day, offering a deal."
Emma rested her chin on his shoulder, hugging him a little more warmly.
"A new life, she said. A chance, she asked of me. Starting over, with no magic to mess things up, she kept saying. Wipe out my memory and leave me alone, she meant."
"She must've been still traumatized," Emma whispered.
"I've never known life as it was supposed to be lived. From cage to cage, I've never been free, never the master of my own path..." His impish voice shaked when he repeated the words. "She painted me the picture quite well. Used the red from my heart. Turns out she's very good at fingerpainting. Maybe she could build a career on it now that I let her go."
"You accepted the deal?"
"She wanted it. So I made the potion and asked for its price."
When he fell silent, she squeezed him tighter. He seemed to need that because his hands grasped at her forearms, pulling her closer.
"A kiss," he whispered. He might've as well wailed like a banshee.
"A kiss from her? To break your curse? But she didn't do it, did she...?" The man in her arms was still rather inhuman in his appearance.
"Oh yes, she did," came the bitter answer.
"What happened, then?"
"Nothing - - nothing! Nothing..." His nails dug into her forearms as he barked the words louder and louder, body tensing and shaking. "Nothing. Nothing!"
She calmed him down by holding tight and rocking him back and forth for a minute.
"And after nothing happened, she drank the potion... And I didn't understand, I still don't understand...Why nothing happened..."
"She was so very young, Rumpels, I could see it in her face. I saw a girl who was way over her head, too young to go there..."
"She was a few days short of seventeen when I took her to my castle, a perfectly ripe age in this world. She was about to enter an arranged marriage anyway..."
"Hey, I'm not saying anything. You two shared a true love's kiss, that's enough proof for me."
They fell silent. She laid back on the bed, taking her with him.
"It's like I always said. Love makes us sick."
"I guess...God, this world blows if you're you and I'm me. Wanna get out of here?"
With his face buried in her nightgown, he mumbled: "Whatever do you mean?"
"Well, I was thinking, we can either get off our asses and visit some other worlds now that we both lost our sons to them...Or we can stay here, sit and moan and slowly become alcoholics."
"Do we drink too much?"
"Yes, Rumpels, we drink too much. We drink when we're sad, or stressed, and I don't know about you, but bored as well."
"And when I can't sleep," the warlock completed her list.
"And even the non-therapist Jiminy knows that patterns like this need to be broken. A change of environment, maybe?"
For the first time that night, he looked at her with a serious, contemplating look.
"There's no more world-crossing magic in here, no magic beans, no curses."
"We do, however, know of a door that opened between this world and Neverland just a while ago. Shouldn't Neverland be full of magic? Even world-crossing magic, maybe?"
"So I could find my son...While checking on yours in the process, you cunning little fox."
"I don't remember trying to hide my intentions," she smiled.
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Convincing her parents that traveling alone with Rumpelstiltskin was a good idea became very hard after a maid found him in Emma's bed the next morning. She shot out of the bedchamber and carried the information straight to the king and queen, stopping only by two or three curious guards to spread the gossip while still managing a record time.
Not exactly a first step in the right direction.
But really, what better way to travel to a different world than with a semi-evil warlock? He can teleport. He can provide food and shelter with a snap of his fingers. He can fight off enemies without breaking a sweat.
"The question is, what will he want in return?" Snow White worried.
"He's not coming because of a deal," Emma explained, "he's coming because he has similar goals."
"Why doesn't he go alone, then?" James asked.
"The same reason you took me with you to save Thomas," she replied but James didn't follow. "Questing alone sucks!" she shrugged. "He's gonna have much more fun with me. Besides, making each other company might save us from going crazy. Or, uhm, you know, crazier. God knows we could both use the comfort."
"Fun, company, comfort?" Snow's eyebrow went high up to her hairline.
So yeah, the second step wasn't any better than the first.
But when Emma laid it down that she didn't trust the fairies and that she was going with or without her conveniently superpowered ally, the Whites couldn't but give their consent.
Packed and ready to go, she gave them the most affectionate farewell.
"Love you, dad," she whispered in James's ear while hugging him.
"The only reason it's hard for me to call you mother is because you were my best friend in Storybrook," she told Snow White earnestly. "You're already like my sister, that's why I can't see you as my mom."
"Then I guess I couldn't wish for more," the queen accepted her fate as she always did, with grace instead of spite.
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So much happened in Neverland. They found no magic beans but they did find a mirror leading to Wonderland. To get the Mad Hatter out of his prison wasn't that hard. With a hat made from Neverland magic, Jefferson rewarded them by snatching Rumpelstiltskin's son from wherever they told him to look. In the end, they found both Henry and Baelfire, just like they wished. Just like they wished? Actually no, not like they wished at all.
Emma caught herself thinking that she should've never come to Neverland. Maybe she should've stayed in the castle; maybe she should've been passive for once and have less shit happen to her.
Peter Pan was a great kid, he had his flaws but his heart was pure. But Peter Pan wasn't Henry, Peter Pan was someone else. His reunion with Emma was forced and awkward.
Baelfire was not a kid by a long shot. Emma did the math: He was thirteen when he came to Earth, eighteen when new-born Emma arrived, thirty-six when Emma had Henry and fourty-six now. Why were these dates important? How did they know where to look for him? All Rumpelstiltskin needed to do was come into contact with Henry's skin for the first time. The moment he touched the boy's hand by accident, he knew the identity of his father.
Needless to say, the second family reunion was a trainwreck.
Baelfire was furious about being kidnapped from one world to another without his approval.
Emma was sickened to see the vile man who forced her to have sex with him all those years ago.
Henry was upset because one parent hovering over him was bad enough, but both parents and a grandpa on top was even worse.
Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to feel. The Baelfire standing before him was a villain and he had no right to judge villains, especially ones he himself helped create. He tried to connect to the man, even when he decided to leave Peter's tree house and seek the company of pirates, even when he became Captain Baelfire, even when he started a conflict with the lost boys.
Suddenly, Emma and Rumpelstiltskin found themselves on opposite sides of war in Neverland. Their loyalties didn't lie that deep, they found out during one stormy night.
"Shit," Emma whispered as she stubbed her toe in the darkness of Rumpelstiltskin's cabin. He was out of the bed and had her pinned to the wall in a second.
"Hi," she wheezed out. He loosened the grip on her windpipe the moment he recognized her.
"Whatever are you doing here, lady savior?"
"Umm, we're infiltrating the ship," she shrugged.
"Oh, is this you overpowering me?"
"You think I give a rat's ass about - - shh!" hearing a noise nearby, Emma tugged on Rumpelstiltskin's hand and rushed him to hide inside his own closet. For some reason but not for the first or the last time, he complied. One of the lost boys entered the cabin, looked around and left.
A lighting struck closeby, followed by a loud thunder that seemed to intimidate the roaring sounds of sea storm into a few seconds of silence. They held their breaths and heard faint clanking of sworfight.
"Peter really thinks he can take over the ship," Emma spilled immedately. "He made me promise I would distract you for at least a couple of minutes. Did you know that I'm their cook now? Poor boys, they really believe that what I serve them is real cooking, as if they never knew the real thing, not even Peter."
"Peter?" Rumpelstiltskin caught the name she used for her son.
She hid her eyes in the darkness and said nothing.
A pirate fell past the cabin's window with a scream, followed by a splash.
"Someone's going for a swim," Emma remarked.
"Until he's eaten by the crocodiles."
"Since when are there crocodiles?"
"Since Bae told me to make them to prevent an attack from under water. Also to make walking the plank more interesting. Magic...My darn magic may just be the only reason he keeps me close. Every time he wants something from me, all he needs to do is call me papa..."
Emma frowned: "He's using you?"
"Not any more than Peter is using you," he scoffed.
Suddenly, he lurched forward and stopped only an inch away from her face.
"He told me to kill you the next time I saw you," he breathed. "But I don't think he meant it, do you? He lies a lot, to his crew, to me. Like when he says he forgave me. Or when he talks about things he would never do in his life, just to sound tough I'm sure, my sweet boy, pretending to be Pinocchio just like Pinocchio pretended to be him..."
"What did he say he did?"
"He told me a story about how you two met...That you were working under his supervision and that he recognized you two came from the same place...Insolent little bitch, he called you, so unlike him, clearly a lie. He said he spent weeks waiting to punish you for reminding him..." His words cut into her like daggers, but they were becoming more and more anguished as he continued. "He said that when it was paycheck time, he locked you up in his office and made you work for that money, made sure to...to humiliate you and – all perverse fiction, all terrible lies, Emma dear, aren't they. Aren't they?" his eyes begged her to agree with him.
Emma didn't say anything.
"No...He would never..." Rumpelstiltskin broke down. "He wouldn't touch you, he's so much better than me and I would never touch you like that...And Henry, Henry couldn't come from that, please tell me he lied..."
Slowly, Emma's arms went around him and craddled him against her chest.
They heard Baelfire's pained scream and Peter Pan's triumphant caw. A severed hand fell past the window without a splash, swallowed by a crocodile before it hit the water.
Rumpelstiltskin just closed his eyes and squeezed Emma tighter.
"You don't want to be here anymore," she finally said something after a couple of minutes. "It's okay. I don't want to be here anymore, either."
"But I can't just leave..."
"Yes you can. You just teleported us."
When he opened his eyes, he realized they were in his bedchamber in the Dark Castle.
"Oh no...How did I...?"
"You moved us to the portal, then we passed through, then you moved us here."
"No, no...I ran, I left him again, I ran! Coward! I have to-"
"No, wait. Rumpels, wait."
The warlock stopped struggling. Emma took a shaky breath and asked some terribly real questions.
"Do they even want us around? Do they want us as parents, or just sidekicks, or even as occasional confidants, anything that would compensate for them having to stand our company...? Do we want to stay with them for them, or for us?"
A shroud of silence was cast upon the Dark Castle for the rest of the night and the next day. The questions were hung in the air to loom above their heads while they walked with no direction in mind, ate only little and barely slept. Some words were maybe exchanged over tea and in the morning, they could remember their mouths moving and a hushed tone coming out, but those were insignificant.
The second night, Emma knocked on Rumpelstiltskin's door.
"I should go see Snow and James, tell them that I'm back and what happened."
Rumpelstiltskin nodded in his armchair.
"And I shall need some time alone, to spin. To absorb, and adapt. And to spin some more, preferrably. You understand, my dear, surely you will excuse me."
"How much time are we talking about?" Emma sensed he would be gone for more than weeks this time.
"When I...deserted Bae for the first time, it took me about eight years before I went back to business. After Belle left, I needed only one. Spinning is a play on S-words, really. Solitude should lead to Serenity or at least to Sanity, right?"
"But you're not alone," she squated in front of him and laid a hand on his knee. "If you visit, we could work in some Solace."
"Miss Savior is being charitable again."
"Maybe I just don't want you to leave me."
"Why?" Rumpelstilstkin looked at her as if he just woke up, fire building up in his voice. "Why? What for? I - - this creature has only had one chance at true love and it screwed up. You, Emma dearest, have no chance whatsoever. So what is this for? Because it doesn't smell like friendship!"
"I'm tired of hearing about true love, true love can kiss my ass. True love is magic, it's way too easy and suspicious, just like fairies. Where I grew up, love was something you had to work for, not just before the big kiss, but after as well; it was hard and that's why we cherished it. It had a million faces and none was any truer than the other. Sometimes it wasn't that much about lust or romance, it was just some fucking great companionship. And no one in this world can stop me from having that. Well, in this case, no one except you."
Rumpelstiltskin gaped at her.
"So many words to think about," he murmured.
"I prefer showing to telling," she diminished the distance between them and kissed him.
He let her; even closed his eyes and held her close; even pursed his lips and opened his mouth at correct times; even groaned a bit when she touched his tongue with hers. For a person in shock, he was quite pliant to her demands.
He tasted a bit like Christmas spices.
"Twelve," he tore away to tell her.
"What?"
"Spiders."
"Huh?"
"Nothing," he murmured and dipped down to return the kiss, shyly and almost virginally. What a turn on, Emma was surprised to realize.
"Must think, alone," he pulled away and she protested. "Solace and Seduction are new S-words. Time, my dearest savior, please...I need to spin and spin and spin."
"Whatever time you need, Rumpels...I just hope it'll be before my hair turns gray."
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A month and a half later, Emma was sitting in the White Castle court room with her parents where a line of peasants was coming forward with their requests.
"They're there as we speak, Your Highness! Standing in the field, connected to the cursed turnip, hands grown into the back of the one before them as if they were one monstrous animal, granny to her husband, granddaughter to granny, their dog to the girl, their cat to the dog and some mouse to the cat! The turnip is large and it seems to be made of gold, but if the old man knew what horror it would bring him, he'd never try to pluck it!"
"That sounds awful!" Snow White exclaimed.
"Like a really cheap horror flick," Emma agreed.
"What can we possibly do? Send our doctors?" James wondered out lout.
"Oh, no! No one can touch them or they will be merged in as well! The only solution we have so far is chopping their hands off with a sword or an axe."
"Exciting, but unnecessary," a high-pitched male voice came from a far-end corner. "All you need is a touch of someone with no magic in their soul and the curse will be broken."
"Rumpelstilskin," James grumbled the name and everyone went silent.
The warlock came into the light and granted the royals three flamboyant bows, the last and the most over-the-top aimed at Emma: "Your Highness; Your Princessness; Your Saviorship."
They exchanged an ear-to-ear smile.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite future court magician," she replied.
"At your service."
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The End
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Author's Note: So, the season 1 finale was really disappointing for me. I was hoping for an epic scene where Emma discovers magic, an intense moment when Emma finds out Gold is the feared and powerful Rumpelstiltskin; and I was looking forward to Rumbelle scenes with some fricking chemistry instead of the sterile family-like reunion I saw. But still, I wouldn't blame the show for the fact that it took me a month of daily editing and re-reading to make this chapter. It just wanted to be a really long process, I guess.
From the Author's Workshop:
Henry being Peter Pan – I was so happy to find an acceptable excuse for getting rid of Henry. In all honesty, I don't think I'm any good at writing children who aren't overly intellectual and morbid, so as much of a cop-out as it was, I'm happy for the Peter Pan idea.
Pairing – Originally, I wanted to get sidetracked with some Emma/Jefferson romance before getting back to Golden Swan. But honestly, Jefferson and Emma had quite some chemistry on the show, how would I make their relationship blossom and fade on one page?
Character trait – Crocodiles are Rumpel's favorite animal. True story.
Fun fact – Rumpelstiltskin has seven-league boots on, which is why he can teleport with using only a drop of his magic. I completely pulled it out of my ass but I like it.
Charming being named James White – I just thought that since they rule over the White Kingdom, James would take Snow White's family name instead of the other way around.
Spelling – I went with the more common spelling, Rumpelstiltskin instead of Rumplestiltskin.
Timeline – I wanted Belle to be locked up for at least two generations in her tower, with time being one of the main reasons she went crazy, but Belle met the Queen and the Queen is not that old because Snow White is not that old... So 5 years it is.
Plotholes in the show – I didn't look for these, I just encountered them when trying to make my story work. What doesn't add up in the show is why and how Rumpelstiltskin finished the Curse with the drop of true love magic. He bottled true love and used some of it on the Curse and then had the rest hidden inside Maleficient – that's what he told James. But he didn't have the Curse at that moment! Maleficient must've had it, because Regina exchanged it with her for the sleeping curse BEFORE James's quest to find the sleeping Snow White. Did he finish the Curse after getting the two hairs, then quickly sold it to Regina who quickly sold it to Maleficient? Why would Regina sell it and take it back so quickly? Did he pop in to finish the Curse while Maleficient had it? Impossible, Maleficient said she didn't know the creator of the Curse, not to mention that Rumpels had no motivation to finish the Curse at that moment. Did he keep that bit of true love instead of using it and then finished the Curse when Regina got it back? Bullshit! He was imprisoned by then, he surely didn't have it on him and if he did, why not use "the strongest magic of all" to get out of the prison. And even if he did finish the potion from his jail cell, we should've seen it, all we've seen was him advising Regina to use her father's heart. So WHEN, HOW and WHY ?
Another plothole – Rumpelstiltskin was imprisoned when Cinderella was very pregnant. Then, Snow White with her baby bump visited him for advice. By the time Snow White gave birth to Emma, Cinderella's child should've been already born. And yet we meet her in Storybrook while she's still pregnant (and has been for the last 28 years – how awful!). I had a problem with this because in my fanfic, the moment the curse breaks, every person returns exactly to where they were in the FTL. Should Cinderella find herself pregnant or with a baby on her hip? (A baby she would not remember giving birth to – at least in my version of the story!)