Rumpelstiltskin loved these winter nights. The silence of the house, the warm fire in the hearth, his daughter sleeping on his chest. He lay on the couch and tried to remember when he felt this content but as the Dark One, he could barely feel or be affected by heat or cold and he was never content. There was always a deal to be made, there was always an example to be set, there was always a goal to meet.
He was stuck here for the next 27 years, four months, and three weeks. He might as well get comfortable.
Emma had recently discovered gravity and she'd also discovered the phone. While she pretended to talk on the receiver she kept trying to drop the Mickey Mouse toy on its annoyingly cute face.
On the rare chance that she broke something she'd gotten ahold of, she giggled and clapped her hands.
And Gold hated having to slap her hand lightly and tell her no because with the way she screamed, one would think he was murdering her. And the look of betrayal in her eyes always twisted his insides up. IT was miserable not saying he was sorry because he knew that Emma had to learn.
So much for his rule of not getting too close.
For the past two months he had kept a close eye on Emma. He didn't trust Jefferson and worried that he might take off with her.
Or hand her over to Regina.
In fact, he gave Mary Margaret strict instructions that she was not to give the child to anyone else to hold either and that included people that she trusted. He hoped that she would follow through. Otherwise he would raise her rent so high that she couldn't pay it and then evict her. This was the savior they were dealing with and the last thing he needed was to see his daughter end up in the wrong hands.
He looked around the living room. Emma was learning to stand and she was an expert at crawling towards any little thing that got her attention. He had set up his shop as best he could but he still needed to keep a sharp eye on her. She always liked the dangerous stuff as opposed to the little corner he'd set her toys in.
Most days if someone came in, he usually just balanced Emma on his hip so that she couldn't get into trouble without him seeing. Unfortunately, balancing a child also made him look entirely unintimidating. People thought they could come in and appeal to his softer side while he held her and all he usually did was refuse and excuse himself to feed her.
HE needed to proof the house a bit better as well. He'd built her a bit of a pen so she wouldn't wonder into everything but she kept finding ways out of it.
A clever toddler always was the bane of their parent's existence.
Emma stirred on his chest while he lounged on his couch and she gave a yawn. He sat up and pulled her in his lap, "Hello Emma, did you sleep well?"
No nightmares, which was a good thing.
Emma smiled when she saw him. She tried to reach up for his hair but he pulled it out of her reach. When he started taking off his tie around her, she'd resorted to tugging his hair to get his attention. It was another thing that resulted in him spanking her hand lightly and earsplitting screams.
He didn't remember Bae being this impossible.
Now there was a thought, did he call Bae her brother? He refused to call either Mary Margaret or the John Doe in the hospital that he took Emma to see occasionally her parents. By all accounts he believed that since they gave him up to him, he was her father and Snow White gave up any claim she had to call herself her mother. The reasoning for Emma to be safe was irrelevant.
But maybe that was selfish; maybe he only thought that way because Emma was someone that he felt should be completely his while he raised her.
So, did that make Bae her brother? Probably. Until Emma decided for herself then he would call him her brother and he would tell her stories about them and about her family and everything that ever happened in the fairy tale realm.
He would prepare her.
And when the time came, and he was certain that she would understand he would tell her the truth.