Rumpelstiltskin put his daughter in her crib after her bath and ran a hand through her blonde curls, "Well Emma, it was a nice first birthday, wasn't it?"
She nodded even though he doubted what she really understood what he was talking about.
He kissed her temple and sat in the rocking chair that he'd spent many long nights rocking her back to sleep or soothing her. He realized that most people would never view them as this kind of person but he also realized that there was a lot about him they didn't know.
"Let's look at this book that Ms. Blanchard gave us," he knew she probably wouldn't understand it but they would entertain him. If anything he could get a nice laugh out of how inaccurate it was.
Maybe he should just close it now and recount one of the real stories that he told her of their homeland.
But he wasn't in the mood to go over those…he opened the book to a random page and then froze when he saw that the woman on the picture bore an uncanny resemblance to the mayor in her queen form.
"What?" he whispered and flipped through a couple of other pictures.
This wasn't just some random book that Mary Margaret had. This was…this was from their world. This was their lives in here.
He flipped to a picture of a torch against a dark cave wall and frowned. He knew that could have been anywhere but he recognized immediately the torches of the wall around his cage back in the realms. There were several places in his life that he did not want an illustration of and that was one of them.
But that didn't stop the memories from flooding back. The smell of the earth and stone, the echo of whispering soldiers as they talked amongst themselves and told him nothing. The darkness was there as well…always the darkness that not even the light of the torches could fight back. When he was given his abilities, he was struck by how limited the human vision was. As he sat there in that forsaken darkness, he was reminded all too well that even he could suffer that same limitation again.
But the worst part was the loss of power. For three hundred years he'd lived with a crushing feeling in his chest and the lightness in his head that was the only feeling he had that told him he was invincible and powerful.
And when that power was taken from him, he was weak again. The feeling was stripped from him even though he knew he still wielded power but of knowledge and centuries of planning.
It was a miserable time and he didn't want to revisit it. It was bad enough he was mortal here but at least he was serving a purpose. Raising a savior was FAR better than rotting away in a cage to be looked at and mocked.
He slammed the book closed and tossed it aside. He would keep it for now, he would let Emma use it when she could read, it would help put the right accurate stories in her mind.
But until then, she was going to deal with her father telling her the stories. At least until Rumpelstiltskin was aware of what he was going to be giving to his little girl.
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Things were quiet in the Gold household until Emma turned three. Gold kept the book out of her reach when he saw what was in there.
Their little savior wasn't old enough to read those kinds of things yet. HE wasn't prepared to read over the fates of those that Regina had torn apart over a spiteful revenge plot over a twelve year old.
It'd benefitted him amazingly but he still didn't want to think about all those people being separated from their families. He'd suffered that tragedy enough times.
Emma still held his hand when they walked every morning. She chatted to him happily and he listened to her and played along with whatever games she came up with. He shouldn't feel that honored because she would run up and talk to anyone not named "Regina." But since she was the only one in town that wasn't afraid of him, he enjoyed her attention.
But gods, she was growing so fast….
He gave her to Mary Margaret that morning to watch. The school was having some kind of holiday and even though Mary Margaret could use some time off, Gold needed some time alone as well.
And Emma so enjoyed being with her mother.
He set to work dusting his shop that morning; it was a lot easier now that he didn't have a three year old underfoot that wanted to help him.
The phone rang and he limped back to answer it. In all the time of her chattering, he'd forgotten what it felt like to have a few hours of real peace and quiet.
These small moments were things that he'd come to value. He knew that didn't make him a bad parent. He just needed some time to himself.
He answered the phone and stretched his back, "Hello?"
"Mr. Gold?" he heard Snow's sobbing voice on the other end.
He straightened up at the fear in his voice, every possible scenario played in his head, "What happened?"
"I turned my back for a second-."
He grabbed his cane, "Where are you?"
"On-at the school but I've looked everywhere and-."
He hung up and started out the door.
Emma was gone. She couldn't have gotten far on those little legs but if she had help?
He needed to get to that school as soon as possible.