Disclaimer: This is a not-for-profit work of fiction, I do not claim ownership of the characters or settings in this story.
Notes: Good grief, we're getting close to the end. I've been working on a new story to start posting after this one (different universe), but it's not cooperating nearly as much as this one did. As always, hope you guys enjoy this.
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Belle led them to the back room, where Rumpelstiltskin stood at his desk, the squashed hat on the surface in front of him. He was scrawling writing onto a piece of paper torn from the ledger that normally sat on the shop counter. Belle peeked over his shoulder, only a little surprised when she saw it was instructions as to how the fairies might use the hat to open another portal once they were gone.
"Pesky wee things would never figure it out on their own," he told her, signing the paper with a flourish. He looked up, noting their company. "Where's Bae?"
The small family hesitated, Mary-Margaret and David exchanging looks. Emma was the one who answered. "He… He went back to Granny's. I don't think he's coming."
Belle saw her husband's jaw tighten for a moment. He glanced down at the page full of instructions, she was sure her friends missed the barely-there sigh before he perked up suddenly. "Well," Rumpelstiltskin said, plucking a potion vial from the desk, "no time like the present."
With a dramatic gesture he poured the potion onto the hat. The liquid glowed brightly, soaking into the fabric and illuminating it from the inside. The hat began to quiver, a point of light forming in the centre that slowly began to expand into a portal. Wind picked up from nowhere, ruffling papers and blowing Belle's hair into her face. She took Rumpelstiltskin's hand without either of them needing to say a word, and then they were moving forwards, being pulled into the light.
The wind blew all sounds away from her, but as they fell into the portal Belle could swear she heard the distant jingle of the shop door, and a voice calling out for them to wait.
Next thing she knew she was landing on a bed of soft loam. Instinctively letting go of Rumpelstiltskin's hand she rolled to a stop face down in a pile of leaves. Blowing them from her face she fought her tangled cloak and stood up in time to see Emma and her parents tumble from the portal, landing just as gracelessly as she had. And then, a second later, a surprise bowled through after them, landing in a puff of dried leaves with a muffled curse.
The portal disappeared, leaving Belle night-blind until her vision adjusted to the pale light from the moon and stars. She looked around, seeing that Rumpelstiltskin was already on his feet, retrieving their suitcase from where it had fallen. He looked strange in this setting, surrounded by moonlit trees in a wild, unkempt forest. Somehow she'd been imagining that he would change again, back to the form she remembered, but as far as she could tell he still looked the same as he had in Storybrooke. As quickly as that thought registered she dismissed it, deciding it wasn't important how he looked.
Belle turned instead to look at the others, watching them get to their feet and brush leaves and dirt from themselves. She saw their surprise addition just as Rumpelstiltskin said his name.
"Bae."
Emma whirled around, surprised, leaves still in her hair, to look at Neal. "I thought you weren't coming," she said, half accusatory, half relieved. "What about your job? Your fiancé?"
Neal shrugged. It was hard to read his face in the scant light, but Belle thought he looked determined. He'd made a decision and he would stick with it. "This… This is more important." He cleared his throat awkwardly, brushed leaves from his jacket, and asked; "Where are we?"
Mary-Margaret looked around. "Starrow," she said decisively.
"Are you sure?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, one eyebrow arched. "The portal didn't have a specific landing place. How can you be certain?"
"We're in Starrow, I'm sure of it. I know these woods," Mary-Margaret insisted, "they might have changed a bit in twenty-eight years, but I still know them."
"We should find some high ground," David suggested, "see where we are, if we can find any landmarks."
"It's the middle of the night," Rumpelstiltskin pointed out dryly, "you won't see much."
"Then what do you suggest?" Emma asked, sarcasm in every line of her body. "We came here to get Henry, not to waste time bickering."
"Me? Why, I suggest we rest, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin moved, navigating the clearing carefully until he stood next to Belle. "Find a safe place where we can get the lay of the land, observe Regina from afar to decide the best course of action. And luckily for you, we just so happen to have landed close by a very safe place indeed."
"You know where we are?" David sounded sceptical. Belle couldn't blame him. She didn't recognise a thing in this overgrown forest. Still, she had a feeling she knew what her husband would suggest.
"The Dark Castle?" she suggested, looking at him.
"What?" Emma stared at them.
"The Dark Castle is safe, fortified, and contains all the equipment we might need to find Regina and your boy." Rumpelstiltskin explained with mocking patience. "It also has the benefit of being a place she would never expect you to go."
Mary-Margaret looked hesitant, but spoke up just the same; "Maybe we should go there. It can't hurt to have a secure base, and if Regina was looking for us one of the first places she'd expect us to go would be our castle. She wouldn't be looking for us at Rumpelstiltskin's place, she probably wouldn't even think he'd be working with us at all."
"We should go," Neal agreed. "I'll say this for my father, he knows how to protect his interests. And I'm guessing that would include the castle."
David shook his head. "I don't know. It doesn't feel right to me."
Mary-Margaret looked at her daughter. "That's two for and one against. Emma?"
"I don't know if we should be veering off track. You said Regina built herself a castle of her own somewhere, right? We should be heading there."
"Two for, two against," Mary-Margaret gave the count.
Rumpelstiltskin smiled, he glanced at Belle and she nodded. "Well then," he said pleasantly, "our votes make a majority. To the Dark Castle it is."
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It was easier to wave a hand and transport them all to the castle gate then it would have been to walk through the forest in the dark across the border to no-man's-land. He could even feel his magic was stronger here, more like it had been before. The purple smoke dissipated just as quickly as it had come, leaving their little group standing in front of the Dark Castle's iron gates. The gardens inside were even more overgrown than ever, with tangles of creepers and weeds that were making a clear attempt to take over the path to the castle door. The castle itself loomed ominous and dark against the night sky, a black shape with towers stretching like fingers towards the stars – the tallest to the north.
"Gold!" Emma snapped, evidently not having enjoyed their method of travel, "you could have warned us!"
"Ugh," Neal groaned, a hand on his stomach, "I forgot how bad it was."
"You do get used to it," Belle assured their companions soothingly, apparently unbothered by magical transportation even after twenty-eight years under the curse, "and it is the quickest way to travel."
Rumpelstiltskin moved forward to touch the gate. One light brush of his fingertips and the gate swung open, creaking on rusted hinges. If anyone else had tried to open the gates they would not have moved so easily, and he was glad to see that the castle still recognised him.
The path to the castle door was overgrown at the edges, a few valiant weeds sprouting up in the cracks between the stones, but by and large it hadn't changed that much. It was still smooth enough to walk without any trouble, even with his cane. The main door, the one that led to the great hall, was chained and padlocked shut. If they had gone to any of the other entrances it would have been the same. Rumpelstiltskin touched the padlock with a finger and the lock sprang obediently open, chain slithering from the door handles to puddle on the ground. The doors opened on a black cavernous room, the light from the moon not even daring to illuminate the interior past the front step.
A gesture with his hand and candles sparked to life around the great hall, the flickering, warm glow somehow making the place look even more ominous than before.
"Home sweet home," Rumpelstiltskin muttered, and stepped inside.
Abandoned during the years of the curse, the great hall looked ancient and sad. Dry, brittle husks of flowers in dusty vases seemed to dance in the candle-light. The cabinets that had previously contained curios and trophies looked sad and empty, only a few bits and pieces remaining. The long table and chairs were dull and unpolished, but otherwise looked just the same as the last time he'd seen them.
"Well," Emma commented once they were all inside, "I can see why they call it the Dark Castle."
Belle took one of the candles from its stand. "I'll take you upstairs," she told their guests, "the rooms might be dusty, but they should still be serviceable. We can regroup in the morning. Rumpel?"
Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand dismissively, "you'll know where to put them, I'm sure."
Probably on the third floor, where the old guest rooms for visiting nobles were. Not that they had ever really been used when he lived in the castle, with the exception of the few months Belle had spent in one of the suites. They, like much of the castle, were simply a remnant of the previous owners. One he had never bothered to get rid of, kept in good repair by the magic that he'd sunk into the castle's very stones – the same magic that kept the candles fresh, the firewood stocked, and the pantry full. Though after so long without anyone living inside these walls it might take some time for the spells to wake up properly.
"You'll be in the tower?" Belle asked him, though she didn't really need confirmation. They both knew full well that of course that was where he'd be. She nodded without waiting for his answer, and motioned for the rest of the group to follow her.
Neal lingered behind. "What's in the tower?"
"My workroom," Rumpelstiltskin replied simply. "If everyone is going to be hanging over my shoulder tomorrow – and I suspect they will, don't you? – then it's going to need a little renovation. Removal of a few, ah, unsavoury items, for example."
"Ah." Neal did not look impressed by that explanation. He stood there, awkward, and rubbed the back of his neck. "So why are you helping? What's in all of this for you? I don't believe you'd just uproot your whole life to help someone else get their kid back."
"Why did you come?" Rumpelstiltskin replied, raising an eyebrow at his son. He leaned heavily on his cane, moving the suitcase he'd brought from the floor to the table. "This could prove to be a one way trip, Bae. You knew full well you might never go home and yet you came along anyway. I believe I heard mention of a fiancé, and a job. What would make you give all that up to come back to a place you swore never to return to?"
"Henry's my son."
"You barely know him." Two flicks unlocked the suitcase. The rolled up piece of paper was buried under Belle's nightgown, but easy enough to find. Rumpelstiltskin pulled it out, then turned and handed it to his son. "I would have come back here anyway," he explained, "I was already working on a way to return here to the Enchanted Forest. Belle and I would have left Storybrooke, we might have been more prepared than this, but it was in the cards for us long before you came knocking on our door again."
"What's this?" Neal asked, unrolling the sheet of paper. He moved closer to one of the candelabras along the wall, leaning in to the light to read the paper. "The ruling house of Starrow?"
"That is why I'll be helping."
Rumpelstiltskin watched his son trace the lines of the tree with a finger, moving down from the top and stopping at the bottom where Henry's name was inscribed in Belle's flowing hand. "Because he's family," Neal supplied in understanding.
It was a highly simplified version of the truth, but he'd hit the nail on the head. Henry was family, but he was also the youngest heir to the throne of Starrow. Rumpelstiltskin had no doubt that sooner or later someone would find the hat and the instructions he'd left and take them to the fairies. Then it would only be a matter of time until the citizens of Storybrooke returned to their rightful homes in the Enchanted Forest. Kingdoms would be rebuilt and, inevitably, the question of what to do about the Dark One would be raised again. He had no doubts that the prospect of imprisonment would soon be on the table again, though this time he had no intentions of going quietly. An alliance with the ruling house of Starrow could only work in his favour. On top of that, of course, was the fact that it might endear him to Baelfire…
"Third floor," Rumpelstiltskin told his son, "east wing. That's where the guest rooms are."
Neal hesitated, then took one of the candles and left, the paper with the family tree still held in his other hand.
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A fair few things had not made the trip between worlds, and for that he was glad. The cabinet with all of his old potions still stood exactly where it had been in the workroom, the shelves still full of bottles and jars full of liquid, each one neatly labelled. A handful of jars and boxes were still scattered across the benches, all of the things too unusual to pass for plain old antiques or curiosities that Mr Gold might have come across in his business trades. The glass jar with the preserved foetus was still on the table, still giving off a faint green glow in the dark. That was the first thing to go. With a wave of his hand Rumpelstiltskin sent it to one of the more obscure store rooms in the castle. No doubt Belle would stumble across it sooner or later, but she'd never been one to squeak about oddities even when she'd first arrived in this castle. The next thing to go was the small pile of human skulls in the corner that had been acquired long ago in a forgotten trade. An ancient chimaera corpse, a set of brutal looking knives that were in fact only ever used for chopping up ingredients for potions, gone in the wave of a hand. The stained top of the table was covered with a conveniently placed cauldron.
With those small changes the North Tower looked a little less like the terrifying den of a monster and more like the workroom of a morally ambiguous sorcerer. No-one need know otherwise.
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It was dark in the master suite of the castle, the door that connected his rooms with Belle's shut and bolted. There was a lump in the bed that suggested she had decided that the old-fashioned sleeping arrangement of separate rooms was no longer in the cards. He might not remember all twenty-eight years of their life in Storybrooke, but he remembered enough to agree that sleeping in separate beds now would just be ridiculous.
She didn't stir as he slipped into the bed. She was wearing a chemise, he noticed, probably left behind in the wardrobe from her room. Her choker was sitting on the bedside table, the stone defaulted back to a warm amber colour that matched the gold of its setting.
His dagger was safe, stowed in a part of the castle that could only be accessed by magical means. The suitcase was unpacked, everything in its proper place.
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Belle woke in the morning not because of an alarm, or an intrusive sunbeam, or her husband prodding her awake. For a moment she was confused about where she was before she remembered the events of last night. She sat up, the other side of the bed rumpled and empty, and into the breeze that had woken her. She had forgotten how drafty it could be this high up in the castle, especially if one forgot to close the windows properly.
The flagstone floor was cold against her bare feet, but not unpleasantly so. She stood, looking for signs of where Rumpelstiltskin might have gone.
She found him in the study that joined their rooms, and for a moment her heart jumped in her chest at the sight of him. He was dressed in tall boots, loose pants, and a leather vest over a flowing dark gold shirt. With his back turned and his hair ruffled from sleep he looked almost exactly as she remembered him. The only thing to mar the illusion was the cane leaning against the desk beside him.
He turned then, sensing her presence, and she gasped.
"Ah, yes," he said, looking down at his hands and the faint shine they had taken on in the light, "it appears magic is indeed very different than in Storybrooke. I'm changing back."
"That is not a bad thing," Belle assured him, stepping forward to touch his skin and see the change close up. It was subtle, a barely-there difference in his skin tone, but it was enough that she had noticed it straight away. "As long as I can still kiss you."
"I have a theory about that," Rumpelstiltskin replied, brushing his fingers through the ends of her hair, "one that we will need to test."
"Should I kiss you now?" Belle offered, sorely tempted. "Just to see? It would be cruel to have to go back to the way we were."
He leaned in and she did the same. They both stopped at the last second, lips almost but not quite touching. Belle took the last step, pressing them together into a kiss, ready to leap back if there were any ill effects. After a moment she pulled away, looking to see if the shine had gone from his skin. Rumpelstiltskin waited a beat, head cocked slightly to the side. Then he grinned. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" Belle confirmed, delighted by the prospect that they did not have to return to a life of chastity even if the physical aspect of his 'curse' was returning. (In truth she kind of liked the idea of his looking how he used to. That was the man she'd fallen in love with, after all. Strange as it was, she had missed the look of him.)
"Nothing," Rumpelstiltskin nodded.
Belle laughed. She threw her arms around his neck in a quick, hard hug. If she wasn't aware of the fact that they had guests on the floor below who expected them to help find the princess' kidnapped son she would have lingered – she might even have tugged him back to the bed. As it was all she could do was kiss him on the cheek before pulling away. "I should get dressed…"
Her suite of rooms hadn't changed at all in the time they'd been gone. They were dustier, perhaps, in need of a good airing out, but the things – the furniture and nick-knacks – were all exactly the same as they had been. The wardrobe door creaked when she opened it, the hinges in need of oiling. The inside smelled musty, but her old dresses still hung there, seemingly untouched by the years.
Belle hesitated, then took out one of her old 'work' dresses. Those dresses were shorter and less grand than the others, designed for ease of movement. They were the ones she had worn while cleaning, or while out in the nearby market town. If they really were going to go head to head with Regina then doubtless she'd need to be wearing something practical. Stockings and practical slippers completed the outfit, and after brushing her hair out she felt more like herself than she had in a long, long time.
It felt strange to descend from the fourth floor and go immediately to the kitchens, but to her that seemed the most logical place to go. The white tea set was gone, still in their Storybrooke kitchen, but the green glazed set was still there. She took that down, found a tea tray, and set water to boil. The pantry was almost bare, only a few lonely items daring to make an appearance overnight. That anything at all had shown up was a good sign – the castle never made food, only stole it from places where it already existed, which meant there were still people somewhere in the Enchanted Forest.
She chose a loaf of bread, a jar of tea, and a pot of what looked like honey.
Tea tray ready, she carried the whole thing up to the third floor's east wing.
The Charmings were already up and about, congregated in the sitting room of David and Mary-Margaret's suite. They stopped talking when she entered, instead staring at her and the tray.
Belle set the tea tray on the small sitting room table, ignoring the looks. David and Mary-Margaret had never seen her in anything other than decadence, while Emma and had never seen her in anything other than Lacey's wardrobe. To suddenly show up in this practical blue dress must have been something of a shock, even if she was still wearing her gold lacework choker.
"Breakfast," Belle announced. "I'm afraid the pantry is a little bare just now, so we'll have to make do. Where's Neal?"
"He said he was going to look for a privy," Emma replied, wrinkling her nose. "We'll have to tell him he missed breakfast."
"I'm surprised you even have anything," Mary-Margaret commented, "I was expecting we'd have to go hunting later."
"Well I for one am glad," Emma said, reaching for the bread. "I've never had to hunt for my food before and I'm not keen on starting just yet."
"Where's Rumpelstiltskin?" David asked, inspecting the honey pot. He dipped fingertip in and tested it, licking the honey from his finger. He must have decided it was safe, since he then smeared some over a piece of bread and offered the jar to Mary-Margaret.
Belle sat down, pouring out cups of tea for everyone. "He'll be in the North tower already. We'll be going there after everyone's eaten." She paused a moment, wondering if she should warn them about his appearance. "It's a long way up," she said finally, deciding that they'd find out on their own soon enough, "so I hope everyone is in comfortable shoes."
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Rumpelstiltskin was setting up a slightly-more-than-basic locator spell when footsteps on the stairs alerted him to company. Just one set, heavy, with a slight squeak that he associated with sneakers. He stopped what he was doing, turning away from the maps pilfered from the library and faced the door, waiting for the inevitable interruption.
He couldn't muster up a proper amount of surprise when Neal walked in, a little out of breath in the same way most people were when they weren't used to so many stairs. He stopped short when he saw Rumpelstiltskin, slowly taking in everything from the boots to the vest to the way his skin had acquired an odd sheen in the light.
"You're changing again," he said, his poker-face not quite hiding the disappointment in his tone.
Rumpelstiltskin looked down at his hands again. The colour hadn't changed any from when it had first appeared, his nails still pinkish and neatly trimmed, skin still smooth and lightly tanned. That would change in time. Slower than the first time, he suspected, but it would still change. "That's the nature of curses," he remarked lightly, "they can't be circumvented, only changed or destroyed."
"So you're going back to this again?" Neal asked, imitating the old theatrical gestures he'd once used. Badly.
"Not fully, I suspect. My time as Mr Gold has left a, uh, lasting impression you might say." He was still and always would be both of them, though perhaps not a seamless blend.
Neal looked away. He wandered over to the tower window, peering out through the glass panes to the wild garden below. "So… tower, huh? Did you have to pick the highest one? I mean, I figured that would be it, it always is, but did it have to be the highest tower?"
"The tallest tower has the best view, always best for certain spells."
"Of course." Neal wandered away from the window and over to the maps Rumpelstiltskin had spread out over the table. The entire continent was there, drawn on vellum in inks that had begun to fade just enough to dull the greens and blues into something almost pastel, detailed maps of each kingdom laid out with the corners overlapping.
Frankly Rumpelstiltskin doubted that Regina and Henry were anywhere other than her old castle, but it was better to be sure. For all he knew she was aware that they'd come after her and had decided to take the boy to Agrabah across the seas, somewhere they wouldn't think to look for her.
"The best I could find, under the circumstances," Rumpelstiltskin noted of the maps. There were probably better maps in existence somewhere, but these were the best in his library so they would have to do.
"I'd forgotten what this place was like," Neal said, looking down at the maps. He traced the southern edge of the continent with a fingertip, frowning. "Quiet, you know? Without the cars and the night life."
"Regretting your choice already?" The question was asked lightly, but it was loaded with meaning.
"No." Neal looked up. "Just wondering how I'm ever gonna sleep without the traffic noise outside."
He would take that as progress. This was conversation number two that his son had initiated of his own accord, after abandoning his world without magic for the sake of family he had just barely met. Rumpelstiltskin was about to reply when noise on the stairs alerted him to the rest of their happy little gang's imminent arrival in his workroom. Instead he stepped back behind the table, making room for the inevitable congregation around the maps.
Belle entered first, looking very much like her old self. She was followed immediately by Emma, then David and Mary-Margaret.
"There you are," Emma said, catching sight of Neal, "we thought you got lost."
"Nah, the most important rooms are always in the tallest tower, right?"
Mary-Margaret looked around, shrewd eyes falling on the empty peg on the wall, and the spaces between the jars and bottles on the benches. David looked uncomfortable, a natural and sensible distrust of magical lairs making him seem tense. When he saw Rumpelstiltskin – the cast of his skin in the light, and the distinctly Dark-Oneish clothes – his jaw tightened.
"Rumpelstiltskin," he said, almost an accusation rather than an acknowledgement or greeting.
"Prince James," Rumpelstiltskin replied, a hint of mocking hiding somewhere about his mouth.
Emma, clearly about to ask what the tone was about, caught sight of Rumpelstiltskin properly and gaped. "Whoa. What's with the outfit, Gold?"
The sorcerer looked down at himself, then said mildly; "A little better than a suit for haring about the Enchanted Forest. Wouldn't you say so, dearie?"
Emma raised her eyebrows. "Whatever you say, Gold. So," she continued, walking up to the maps spread out on the table. "What's the plan? How are these going to help us find Henry?"
"A locator spell," Belle supplied, moving to the other side of the table so Mary-Margaret and David could gather around.
"Exactly," Rumpelstiltskin agreed, retrieving a small potion vial from the supplies they had brought with them in the suitcase. "All we need for this to work is something of Regina's… fortunately, I've had something set aside just in case."
"Gloves?" Emma asked sceptically.
"I know those," Mary-Margaret said, looking at the riding gloves Rumpelstiltskin had just set down on the table by the maps. "Those were Regina's. She used to wear them when we went riding with father."
"How did you get them?" David asked, as sceptical as his daughter.
"Ah-ah, secrets of the trade. Just trust me. Have I steered you wrong yet?" Rumpelstiltskin smirked. The honest truth was that, though they were right not to trust him, he had never sent any of this little family in the wrong direction before. True, it was always because he needed certain things to happen or to not happen, but they didn't know that.
None of them had a response, of course.
"Stand back then," he told them all, unstoppering the potion vial, "and watch very closely. These maps will tell us where she is, and where we can find your boy."
Rumpelstiltskin poured a few careful drops of potion onto the gloves, then added a drop for each individual map on the table. Once he was done the whole thing glowed for a moment, then went dark. The parchment rippled slightly as if in a breeze, then a black dot, like a drop of ink had been spilled onto the paper, appeared on one of the maps. It blotted out part of the letters labelling that portion of the map, but he didn't need to read it to know where that was.
"The castle," Belle said, looking at the dot. She looked up at the Charmings. "Your castle."
"Our castle?" David repeated, startled.
"Why would she be in our castle?" Mary-Margaret asked, looking concerned. "Why not hers?"
"That's not the question you should be asking," Rumpelstiltskin reminded them. "The question you should be asking is 'how do we get in without being seen'? She may not be expecting company, but she will be able to detect any magic performed in or around the castle. That is, if she's paying attention."
"She just kidnapped Henry and fled to another dimension," Emma pointed out, "I'm going to bet she'll be paying attention. She killed to get him here, she's not going to let him go that easy."
"There's a passage," Mary-Margaret told them, "through the dungeons and out the main courtyard, and there's a drainage grate in the south wall we could probably get through without a lot of trouble. We were going to have it fixed but we never got around to it. I don't see how she could know about it, she was never interested in that sort of detail."
"If we get in through the dungeons," David added, "then as long as we make it up to the kitchen on the next floor it's a straight shot up to the royal wing through the servants' stair."
"Right," Emma nodded, "so it sounds like we have a plan to get in. But how do we tackle Regina herself?"
Rumpelstiltskin glanced at Belle from the corner of his eye. She saw him looking and immediately reached up to touch her choker. "Me," she said in understanding.
"You?" The chorus of voices was almost insulting. Even Neal, who didn't properly know Belle, sounded like he didn't believe she could do it.
"But," Mary-Margaret said, "I thought you didn't have any magic."
"I don't," Belle confirmed with a nod. "But I have this," she touched her choker again, "as long as I'm wearing it she can't hurt me with her magic."
"And some magics, like potions –" like curses in potion form, but he wouldn't say that "–don't require a person of magical learning to use them."
"But what about that protection spell?" Mary-Margaret asked pointedly. "The one you cast so she couldn't hurt us in this land. Wouldn't that still work?"
Rumpelstiltskin and Belle shared a look. "We have reason to believe," he informed them, "that the effect of Regina's curse was far greater than we could have imagined. It's quite possible that the melding of your two selves – Snow White and Mary-Margaret Blanchard – cancelled out any protection spell done when you were just the one self."
"It's better not to risk it," Belle added. "The choker is an object, not a person. It was never affected by the curse the same way we all were. Snow, I would hate for her to hurt you or kill you and then know I could have prevented it."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"Alright," Neal piped up, pointing at Belle and his father, "so let's say you two deal with Regina, since you're the ones who won't die if she hits you with anything nasty. And while you're doing that we can rescue the kid."
"So…" Emma summarised; "Belle and Gold deal with Regina, while we find Henry and get him out of there. Then we regroup and figure out where to go from there."
"Five minutes," Rumpelstiltskin announced. "I can get us as close as the Royal Forest without risking detection."
"I need my bow," Mary-Margaret said, rosy-cheeked face grim. "Five minutes," she agreed. "We'll get our weapons, then we'll go."