Once, Emma had thought that the bottom level of the castle was like a series of catacombs, spreading out in every direction and tunneling deep under the city. She's surprised to discover that she's right. The walls are lit with a gentle glow, narrow and made of packed dirt that seems so smooth it's almost like…magic, she thinks, and balks at the thought of it, the evil queen wielding deadly power to hollow out the underground of the castle. "Long walk," she comments inanely to silence her turmoil again, the fury and revulsion that surges up at the thought of Regina.

"We're going through the woods now," the girl assures her. "The mines have their outer entrance near town, and some of the others aren't as willing to climb through the mines just to have a meeting." She grins. "Me, I'm just happy to be able to move around."

She's very pretty, Emma notes, with an elfin face and a delicacy to how she moves, even dressed in a ragged blue dress that's torn in several places. She wonders if this is her cover, if she's a prisoner or just made to look like one. "What did you say your name was?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the girl touches the tips of her fingers to her lips, apologetic. "I didn't. I'm Belle."

"Belle," Emma repeats. "Beauty and the Beast Belle?"

"What?"

"Never mind." Are there creatures like the Beast here, or do they not exist in this land outside of time? She hasn't heard of anything quite so fantastical here thus far, but she won't rule anything out in a world that contains Snow White and Dr. Frankenstein and a flock of dwarves.

Belle slows down so that she's walking beside Emma. "The queen locked me up years ago, before the curse."

"I can believe that." There isn't much Emma won't believe about Regina now, how cruel and heartless the woman can be. "Did she have a reason, or was she just feeling cranky that day?"

Belle snickers appreciatively. "I love a man she hates. I suppose that was enough for her."

Emma thinks of the Huntsman, of the way Regina had stood in front of them, eyes flashing and heart in hand, snapping out a command. Get your hands off of her!

Her, not him, and all of Regina's fury is reserved for the Huntsman and his apparent betrayal of whatever their arrangement had been, no matter how little control the Huntsman had had over it. No, Regina doesn't care for those who display affection for people she hates. "What did she do to him?"

"There's nothing she can do to him." And there's a note of pride in her voice. "He's stronger than her."

There are people in this town strongerthan Regina? It doesn't seem likely, not while Regina still holds power over them all with her curse. And as far as Emma knows, she's only ever seemed afraid of-

Emma pauses, stares at the girl, her eyebrows shooting up. "Rumpelstiltskin."

Belle nods, smiling. "He'd thought I was dead for so long, but I was fortunate. My last guard was dismissed from the castle several months ago, and his resentment outweighed his fear of the queen." She furrows her brow, mock-thoughtful. "The way Rumpel tells it, he might've been a tiny bit drunk, too. Fairy dust, you know."

"Do I ever," Emma agrees fervently. "He told Rumpel about you? And Rumpel didn't kill Regina right then?" She remembers her skin crawling at his nearness, remembers how all her instincts had screamed that he was dangerous.

But then, her instincts had led her astray before- had her craving Regina, certain that there was still goodness within her, because it was easy, because it made things easier-

Belle shakes her head. "He can't enter the castle itself, and Regina is well protected when she leaves it. All he could do was focus on saving me. He hollowed out most of this path, but the dwarves had to do the last bit. And then I was free." She smiles, shaking her head. "Rumpel didn't understand at first, when I said that I wanted to stay in my cell most of the time. But I want to make a difference, and he needs someone in the castle to communicate with our agent there."

"You're the resistance, then," Emma guesses. She'd suspected it all along, of course, but Belle's happy nod is her confirmation, and Emma's relieved to know that someone who pings her internal radar as a genuinely good person is a part of this. Rumpelstiltskin must be the man behind the resistance, and she isn't certain she trusts him any more than she trusts Regina.

Maybe even less so.

They hit the mines at last, and they're dimly lit in the corners and dusty and dank throughout. "This way," Belle urges her on, and Emma follows her through slowly widening pathways that brighten around them with the glint of jewels lit with an otherworldly light, pressed to the walls and partially harvested in places. "Fairy dust," Belle explains, crooking a finger and brushing a wall of jeweled rock with a knuckle. "There isn't much use for it here, especially with so little magic in here, but I think the dwarves like harvesting it anyway." The purple dust trails after her, drawn out of the wall with her touch like the tail of a comet until she pulls her finger away.

Emma presses a hand to the rock, curious, and the wall thrums beneath her palm, fairy dust emerging from the stone near her hand and converging around it. It's all drawn in and she feels dizzy in a way that's stronger than just the spiked alcohol but laden with clarity at the same time, and she draws a euphoric breath and pulls away her hand to stare at it.

It's still glowing with magic, and Belle says, "Wow," and laughs softly, twirling her own finger in the dust that hovers around Emma's hand, climbing up her wrist. It takes another moment of them both staring breathless at the fairy dust before Emma remembers herself, and unsettled, she shakes her hand until the light falls from it in a shower of sparks to the ground.

"Such a waste!" a voice trills, and suddenly Rumpelstiltskin is on a bent knee before her, snatching up the fairy dust before it can fall any further. It jumps to him with the same energy as it had jumped onto her, and he extends a hand, cracked lips splitting into a smile as the dust is absorbed into his skin. "My dear," he nods to Belle, and she takes his hand as he rises, looping an arm under her elbow. "And, of course, the valiant Emma Swan."

"Rumpelstiltskin," Emma acknowledges, trying not to stare at how easily Belle fits against Rumpelstiltskin, how she looks at him with such unfettered adoration. We all have demons we're drawn to, no matter the warning signs, no matter the knowledge of their true nature. And can she really judge, when her own demon seems so much worse today?

Rumpelstiltskin smiles again, and it's not unfriendly as much as uncomfortably significant. He can't possibly know what's going through her head, but he winks and nods her on as though he's fully aware, and she brushes past him without looking back, her heart pounding.

Rumpelstiltskin seems unperturbed. "All our players are here today to meet you, Emma Swan." They've reached a large opening in the mines, close enough to the surface that the sunlight glows mutedly from the far end of the room. Rumpelstiltskin waves his hand and candles flare to life from lamps arrayed around the room, and Emma can see that they aren't alone.

There are maybe two dozen people present. A collection of dwarves- the ones she'd seen a week prior at the tavern, and this time she can count them all and deduce that yes, these are the seven dwarves of fairy tale fame. A few scruffy-looking peasants stand near the dwarves, but the other end of the room is occupied with chairs and fine clothing and men and women who delicately keep themselves distant from the others.

One of them speaks, a younger man with cool, unhappy eyes. "He came into our home to fetch us. Our home!" He drapes a protective arm around the heavily pregnant girl beside him.

The blonde woman seated in the chair beside her laughs without mirth. "You make deals with the Dark One, he's never going to stop dropping by." She inclines her head, taking Emma in with a glance. "I would introduce myself, but it seems unwise to grant a stranger of the queen's castle that knowledge."

There's a sour laugh from another corner of the room, and Emma squints to see the man resting casually behind a lamp, his face dark and malicious. "Royals. As though the queen thinks of any of us as a threat." Emma blinks and he's suddenly just behind her, a sudden light breeze on her face the only hint that he'd gotten there without magical means. "You can tell the damn queen that Jefferson is still here," he hisses in her ear, still hovering close enough that Emma's skin is prickling with warning.

"I'm not telling the queen anything," Emma retorts. She twists around to take in the dwarves and the lowly murmuring peasants. "I came here to do what you all want to do- destroy her." The words catch in her throat but she still gets them out, defiant and determined and keeping the humiliation and fury of earlier still brimming at the surface.

"And Emma is indeed close enough to the queen to aid us," Rumpelstiltskin agrees gleefully, clapping his hands together once. The young man with the pregnant girl jumps. "Very close indeed."

"Ha!" It's the suspicious dwarf from the night at the tavern, the one who'd defended Snow and watched her so thoughtfully when Regina had retrieved her. She's been thinking of him as Grumpy since, and it doesn't come as a surprise when the dwarf next to him says his name reprovingly, then sneezes into a handkerchief. "In her bed, you mean," Grumpy snorts, and Emma's cheeks flush red.

"Like hell," she snarls at him, and there's the discomfort at her core again, that disgust/lust that eats at her whenever she thinks of Regina now, stronger than ever at Grumpy's implication. No. Not again, never again, and she cringes, wondering if her…altercation earlier that day is that obvious to everyone present. "I would never-" She stops, because there's nothing left to say when she would, when the rest of the room is eyeing her now with even more interest than before.

Rumpelstiltskin laughs, a high warble that makes several people squirm uncomfortably, and Emma realizes that these people must be just as desperate as she is, to have thrown their lot in with someone as worrying as Rumpelstiltskin. "That would be to our benefit, dearie, if you choose to pursue it."

"I will not!" She's outraged at the implication, the idea that she would throw herself into bed with Regina to fight this battle, and vaguely nauseous at the thought that she'd done it even without a battle to fight. God, what had she been thinking earlier? How could she have gotten herself into that? Her mind helpfully supplies her with images of Regina's ever-so-inviting dresses, of heavy perfume and those dark-lined lips attacking her neck, and Emma takes a step back, clenching her fists together. Not again, she warns herself, and her body responds with a frisson that shivers through her.

"Enough." It's the blonde royal who'd spoken earlier, glaring at Rumpelstiltskin with eyes that take in an estimation of him and find him wanting. "We have another agent in the palace. That is all that matters."

Another royal, this one older and sour-faced, leans back in his finery. "The sooner we take back my kingdom, the better. I don't care how we do it." He scowls. "We've waited far too long for empty promises of saviors and magic. I say we have this woman kill her tonight."

Oh. Emma's brow furrows, an unwelcome coldness filling her at the idea of it. But these are royals, probably just as quick to off-with-their-head! as they would be to imprison an enemy. They don't seem to think much of a quick murder.

But then, they don't have a son who'd be left damaged by that. It isn't even Regina's death that horrifies her (though it does send an unwelcome unease to her face, and a memory of Regina's face when it isn't wreathed in hatred), not when she knows what the queen is capable of and how she wouldn't hesitate to kill them all. It's the thought of Henry watching as his birth mother is responsible for the death of the only mother he's really known. It's the thought of killing in general, of crossing that kind of line that she'd never even imagined crossing before, not even in the worst of foster homes when she'd craved escape in any way.

"Don't be ridiculous," the blonde royal responds sharply, her eyes trained on Emma. Emma looks away, tense at the thought of what her hesitation might have revealed. "And we still have a few years before the savior comes. A contingency plan, once the queen is defeated."

"A few years?" one of the peasants finally speaks up. "The savior was supposed to have come four years ago!"

There's a murmur of uncertainty, and one of the dwarves says, "No, the date was only a little while ago."

"It hasn't come yet!" The pregnant girl says, and she seems near tears. "The savior will come. My daughter will be born!"

"Foolish optimism," the older royal grunts, sitting back. "You're counting on the word of Snow White and that shepherd boy?"

"Don't think we haven't forgotten what you've done, King George," Grumpy says darkly, rubbing a palm against his pickaxe in warning.

Jefferson speaks again, close to Emma's ear as the royals argue with the dwarves and the peasants. "This is their alternative. They don't care for magic or the passage of time." He laughs, unpleasant. "They just want to be princes and princesses again for more than playacting for the queen's pup's amusement."

"And the dwarves want vengeance," Belle puts in, and for the first time, her voice is hard. "I do, too."

"Yes," Jefferson agrees. "And the savior can't give us that kind of vengeance. Not for what I owe Regina." He's close to Emma again, his eyes lingering on her in assessment, and she stares him down. There's a kind of tempered madness to him, a desire for blood that shadows his eyes, and if she watches him for too long she can feel herself consumed by the insanity lurking in his gaze.

"And what can I do?" Emma asks, her throat dry. She's determined to destroy Regina, to depose her and imprison her or exile her or whatever happens to the bad guy at the end of the fairy tale. She thinks she might even be okay with seeing Regina rightfully killed, as long as it isn't her hand that does it and therefore traumatizes Henry for life. "Do you need intelligence? To talk to Snow? I can try and arm your people." Without the Huntsman dogging her steps, she thinks it might be easier to help.

It's Rumpelstiltskin who responds, his eyes alight with an amusement he doesn't share with the rest of them. "Oh, you'll know when the time comes, dearie."

"What?" Belle asks, but Emma is distracted by the rest of the resistance, who've moved just as swiftly from their spats to their mutual resentment of their ruler.

"It's the son whom we should be focusing on," King George is saying, standing up and clasping his hands behind his back. "He's our channel to the queen, just like last time."

Last time?

One of the peasants laughs a brittle laugh. "And how can we get to him, short of blowing up the castle?"

"You're not getting to him at all!" Emma snaps, taking a step forward.

"Ah, yes." Rumpelstiltskin raises his hands, stretched out to silence the crowd. They fall quiet instantaneously, and Emma can see one or two of them with their mouths still moving but no sound emerging. "Miss Swan here is Prince Henry's birth mother, you know. It affords her access to the castle but she has a vested interest."

"Regina, giving a parent access to her child? Perish the thought," Jefferson murmurs.

"I'll say," one of the peasants echoes, and they exchange a dark look.

Emma flicks her thumb against a finger, a nervous habit she'd thought she'd given up years ago. "Look, I'm willing to help stop Regina, but I'm only here because of Henry." And the Huntsman, and Snow, but the enormity of fighting for so many people isn't something she wants to contemplate right now or she'll probably give up altogether.

"It's like Snow all over again," one of the dwarves mumbles, and Emma glances at him, curious.

"Snow?"

Grumpy is still the unofficial group leader, and he stares back, his eyes hostile. "We'll do whatever it takes to destroy the queen." His hands are twisting, his fists clenching and unclenching, and Emma gets the distinct sense that he's not being as honest as he could be.

But the blonde royal is nodding, her eyes sympathetic but determined, and the peasants are agreeing with the dwarves, and Emma is suddenly more unsure than ever that allying with this resistance is a good idea. It's only when Rumpelstiltskin raises disarming fingers and says, "Well then, I'm sure a compromise can be arranged," that the room settles down and heads are lowered in grudging acceptance- or fear of Rumpelstiltskin, more likely, but Emma doesn't want to count on him, either.

Only Jefferson is still staring at her, a cold smile playing at the edge of his lips, and he slinks back to his corner as swiftly as he'd emerged from it.

She stalks across the room, watching the royals draw back and the peasants stare and the dwarves tense as she passes them, heading for the sunlight now dimming near the entrance to the mines.

"Wait." Rumpelstiltskin's voice is honeyed with promises and threats all wrapped together, and Emma pauses, waiting, her back to the resistance. "We will meet again after sunset in two days' time, Emma Swan."

Emma doesn't turn around, and when she speaks, it's less certain than anything else she's done today. "I'll be there."

"I don't doubt it." Rumpelstiltskin giggles, high-pitched enough to bring on goosebumps, and Emma hurries for the light.


This one's a bit shorter than usual and unbetaed, but I'm just glad to have ~something for y'all! :)

Oh and hey, if you're reading this fic and enjoying (or not!), I'd love to hear how it's going for you! I'm in a bit of a writing slump right now and feedback always helps~ 3