As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters.
Enjoy, and please review!
The Huntsman's travels had brought him far, but it had been time to move on. He wanted to see as much of the forest as possible. But for the first time, he was leaving behind a friend – one of the few humans worthy of his friendship. Prince Andrew had surprised him, and even the wolf had accepted Andrew. That was rare.
Suddenly, the Huntsman's head came up. He smelled something strange, something… twisted. Something that had once been human, but had forsaken its humanity.
"Rumpelstiltskin," he said, turning to find the impish creature behind him.
"I always wondered if I could sneak up on the man raised by wolves," Rumpelstiltskin mused. "Apparently not." He giggled.
"There is nothing I want," said the Huntsman.
"Oh, really? Do you not want your new friend to be happy? To have a good life?" Rumpelstiltskin's smirk was particularly devious.
"What has Andrew to do with anything?" The Huntsman felt his hackles rise. Something wasn't right here, he was being manipulated. But even so, if his new friend's happiness hung in the balance, he could at least hear what this unnatural creature had to say.
"His betrothed is about to be put under a terrible spell, unless you can keep her in the forest just a bit longer," the imp said, drumming his steepled fingers against each other.
"And what is your price for this information?" The Huntsman was wary; Rumpelstiltskin was infamous for charging…uncomfortable prices.
"Here's the thing," Rumpelstiltskin said. "In this particular case, if I tell you where to find the girl, the only price will be that you distract her as long as possible. Keep her from this spell. Or any other…untoward fate that might follow her discovery of this malicious intent."
"Why?" The wolf returned from a quick hunting foray and began to pace nervously, glaring at Rumpelstiltskin.
"I have…uses for her." Rumpelstiltskin's smile was oily. "If she's under this spell, all will be for naught."
"So you need her," said the Huntsman. "I would ask for what purpose, but you'll not tell me. But I have to wonder, if you have some use for her, might she not be better off under whatever spell she's being threatened with?"
Pretending to be shocked by the other man's rudeness, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Who, me? Worse than being turned into a large bird for the rest of her life? How uncouth of you to suggest it!"
"Well, why wouldn't your sinister purposes be worse?" The wolf was more on edge than the Huntsman would expect, even taking into account the foul creature that stood before them, which made the Huntsman wonder what was really going on here.
Making a face, Rumpelstiltskin replied, "Because although she'll have to pay a steep price for it, she will be the only one who can break this same spell for her brothers." Of course, that was only because Rumpelstiltskin was taking steps to ensure that only she could break the spell, but that was unimportant. "But not if she suffers the spell as well."
Still feeling like there was more going on here than he could comprehend, the Huntsman asked, "So you want me to save her so she can, in turn, save her brothers?"
"More or less," replied Rumpelstiltskin, grinning wickedly.
"What exactly would I be required to do?" The Huntsman was surprised to find that he was seriously considering this vile little man's proposal.
"I'll tell you where to find the princess, dearie, and all you have to do is talk to her. Keep her in the forest if you can, and if you can't, follow her. Save her from any foolish attempts on her part to exact revenge on the caster of this spell. Convince her to stop and think, to find another way to bring this person to justice." Smirking maliciously, Rumpelstiltskin added, "And I would recommend staying out of the witch's way yourself, if you want to keep your own skin intact." When the Huntsman didn't respond, Rumpelstiltskin reminded him, "This girl you'd be saving is betrothed to your new friend, that little princeling you met in the forest. I can't imagine how devastated he would be to find that, before the ink has even dried upon their betrothal agreement, his beloved has been turned into a bird. But, ah, well. If you won't help, I suppose you won't help."
"Why can't you do something?" asked the Huntsman as Rumpelstiltskin turned to walk away.
"Me?" Rumpelstiltskin turned back, surprised and a bit amused that this backwoods rube would even suggest such a thing. "Well, don't you think that would send the poor dear running back home as fast as she could go?" He laughed.
The impish little man was right; anyone with any sense would run in the opposite direction if faced with Rumpelstiltskin. The Huntsman himself had always sworn he would stay away from the imp, but this would help his new friend. He didn't particularly want to talk to some princess, who was more likely to be all gracious and formal, wanting to discuss embroidery and such genteel pursuits. But the price he asked was not so terrible, and if Andrew loved her… Looking Rumpelstiltskin in the eye, the Huntsman said, "Very well. I'll do it."
When Mr. Gold woke up a little before five the next morning, the power was still out. Paige had rolled away from him in her sleep, and was sprawled on her back on her side of the bed. Gold climbed out of bed and got the fire going again. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he returned to find that Paige had rolled back onto her side, one arm flung across his side of the bed as if she'd been subconsciously reaching for him. After lighting several candles, he got back into bed, deciding on a whim to try an experiment.
He maneuvered himself under her arm, not stopping until their bodies were pressed together. Still asleep, Paige snuggled against him, even going so far as to drape her leg over his. Gold smirked. He'd barely started, and already this experiment was producing results. He put his hand on the leg that was wrapped around him, trailing the tips of his fingers up the back of Paige's thigh. When he reached her panties, he slid his hand under them to touch her. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake.
He stroked around her opening before sliding his fingers up to her sensitive spot. When he moved his fingers lower again, he found that her body was already reacting. She was getting wet. He slid one finger inside of her, drawing more of the wetness out. She stirred again without quite waking, her hips making a slight thrust against him.
Shifting his head back, Mr. Gold watched Paige's face as she slowly woke to his touch. In that first moment when she opened her eyes, all he saw there was the lust he knew she felt for him. But as she realized what was going on, shame and indignation took its place.
Paige tried to push away, prompting Gold to say, "Now, now, Paige. Last night was for your pleasure, but it's not last night anymore, is it? Now it's my pleasure we're concerned with."
Realizing that there was no getting out of this, Paige stopped struggling. She watched, almost horrified, as he put his wet finger into his mouth, tasting her essence. But as shocked as she was, Gold could see that part of her was turned on by it. He cupped her face in his hand, tracing her mouth with his thumb. "Now, I'm going to let you choose, Paige." His smile was dark and almost evil. "You can reciprocate what I did for you last night," he started, pushing his thumb between her lips. But before he could finish, she pulled her head away from his hand. "Very well." Pushing against her shoulder, he said, "On your back, then, dove."
Instead of removing the strappy tank top she wore, he pulled it down so the lace around the low neckline rested on the upper part of her stomach, exposing her breasts. With Paige now lying on her back, Gold knelt between her legs, so close that her legs were bent up over his as he pressed himself against her. She had put her hands up to cover her breasts, so Mr. Gold took her wrists and pinned them to the bed. He leaned forward, putting his weight on her wrists. He enjoyed holding her down like this, but he knew he couldn't do it for long without bruising her. Normally, he wouldn't mind leaving marks, but here in Storybrooke, if someone saw bruises, they might start investigating his treatment of Paige. While he was confident that Paige would lie for him, he didn't particularly want to invite such scrutiny.
He kissed Paige, but she didn't respond at all. He put one hand on the bed and shifted all his weight to it so he could grasp her neck with his other hand. He squeezed, once again knowing that this would lead to bruises if he wasn't careful. "You know better than that, Paige," he hissed, referring to her complete lack of reaction to his kiss. "Don't make me have this conversation with you again. Understood?"
When Paige nodded, her eyes wide, he let go of her neck. Putting his hand on the bed to steady himself, he leaned in for another kiss. She made a half-hearted effort to respond, which irritated him, but it was better than nothing. And after last night, he was hoping that she was starting to accept her situation and would begin allowing herself to enjoy it.
Moving to her breasts, Gold licked one nipple, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it between them. Paige gave a pained hiss of breath and grabbed his hand. But before he could get angry with her for stopping him, Mr. Gold noticed the real pain in Paige's eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked, a little uncertainly. "You usually like your breasts handled pretty roughly."
What's the matter is that I'm eight and a half weeks pregnant. My breasts are getting swollen and tender, and that doesn't feel good any more. Paige blushed as she realized that she had just admitted that it had ever felt good.
"Ah," said Mr. Gold, smirking slightly at Paige's embarrassment. "Until further notice, I'll be gentler with them. And if it still hurts, let me know and I'll stop." When Paige nodded, he cupped one breast, kneading it very softly, and licked the opposite nipple again, pulling it into his mouth and sucking far more gently than he normally would. Paige tensed slightly; this did hurt a little bit, but it also felt kind of good at the same time. She just hoped he didn't keep it up for too long, though, because she could tell that this slight pleasure would quickly fade.
Sensing her discomfort, Gold switched. He would have liked to spend more time on this, but since it was causing her pain, he sat up after only a few more moments, pressing himself against her as he unbuttoned and removed his pajama shirt. Then he backed away to pull off both his pajama pants and his boxers in one smooth movement. Holding the pants up so she could see, he said, "You're so wet you got it all over my pajamas, Paige." He knew she would be embarrassed by that, and she didn't disappoint. Her face went bright red. It normally took a lot more foreplay to get her this aroused. Apparently it worked wonders to start stoking her fires before she was awake to try to resist.
He slid her panties down over her hips, raising her legs up in the air so he could get the undergarment completely off. He caressed the sweet spot for a moment and realized that she was almost there already. In fact, all it took to push her over the edge was him entering her. "Oh, Paige," he sighed, enjoying the feel of her muscles squeezing him. Once her orgasm had subsided, he leaned forward so his face was above hers and began to thrust into her, finding his rhythm.
As they both began to build to a climax, Mr. Gold said, "I want to feel your arms around me, Paige." She opened her eyes to glance up at him, shaking her head no. With a more savage thrust that made her eyes flutter back in her head, Gold said, "That wasn't a request, Paige." She turned her face away from him and closed her eyes again. Just as he started considering what he should do to punish her, he felt her hands trace their way hesitantly up his sides, curving around until her fingers were digging into the skin over his shoulder blades. He could feel her nails. "Ah, yes, Paige, that's nice," he moaned, partly just to embarrass her.
He started moving his hips faster; they were both getting close now. Moaning her name softly into her ear, Gold enjoyed the feel of her fingers digging deeper into his flesh. It was one of those feelings that teetered on the shining edge between pleasure and pain, and Paige had never done anything that made him feel this way before.
When Paige's back arched as they came at almost the same moment, her fingers raked down his back. "Oh God, yes!" Gold cried. When the moment passed, he collapsed on top of Paige and, exhausted, they both drifted back to sleep.
When Paige woke up about an hour later, Mr. Gold was still on top of her, still inside her. Not caring that it would wake him, she began pushing at him and writhing out from under him. When he did wake, he simply slid over to lay on his side, watching Paige scramble to pull her tank top up where it belonged, covering her breasts. She couldn't find her panties, or any of her other clothes, so when she found the nearly-sheer robe, she grabbed it, clutching it to herself rather than trying to put it on.
She looked at Gold, who was still on his side, completely unconcerned that he was nude. Her cheeks flushed as she couldn't help but glance down between his legs. She jerked her eyes back up to his face, but refused to meet his eyes.
"I never figured you for the type to claw a man's back in the heat of passion, dove," he said, smirking suggestively.
I wouldn't! I've never… I don't remember doing anything like that. Paige actually thought she might remember doing it, but she didn't want to admit it, even to herself.
"See for yourself, dove," he offered, but only leaned forward slightly.
Paige approached the bed like she might a den of vipers. But she couldn't see from the edge of the bed. It never occurred to her to go around it; instead she put the robe aside to climb back onto the mussed bed. She crawled hesitantly toward him until she could lean over him to look at his back. There were, indeed, ten scratches down his shoulders. None of them was bleeding freely, but most of them had filled with blood. Backing away as if he'd goosed her, Paige nearly fell as she slid off the bed. When she had regained her balance and snatched up the robe to cover herself again, she signed, I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!
With a wicked grin, Gold replied, "Don't be. Not only is it the mark of a job well done on my part, but I enjoyed it."
Not knowing what to say to that, Paige fled to the bathroom to clean herself up.
Eliza strode along, enjoying the spring breeze as she made her way to her favorite spot in the woods. She was wearing a simple green dress, sleeveless and belted at the waist, with a very full skirt. She had brought lunch in a small hamper, along with a shawl in case the breeze cooled too much.
When she reached the clearing, she smiled. She loved this spot all the more for the time she'd spent here with Andrew. Holding up her left hand, she admired the ring he had given her. Even now, Sir Ryan was on his way to Tristan's kingdom to see to it that the betrothal agreement was signed. Perhaps he was already there; perhaps Tristan was signing right now. She wondered when she would see her betrothed again.
Her betrothed. Just thinking of it made her smile blissfully. She spread a blanket in her usual spot, remembering that she and Andrew had shared their first kiss here. She wished he were with her now, but he had to make sure that his duties to his own kingdom were passed to a worthy successor before he could leave.
Idly, she wondered where he would live. Unless her father had uncovered that horrible swamp-woman's plot before Andrew came to live here, he couldn't stay in the palace, and social niceties would discourage the possibility of him living at the manor with her. When he had visited before, he had brought some of his retainers with him, and her father had sent the governess along as well, not only to watch the boys, but to serve as Eliza's chaperone.
Sighing happily, she opened her violin case and began to tune the instrument. Ever since that wintry picnic lunch, she only wanted to play the songs she had played for Andrew. But today, she was determined to learn something new, and had brought along some sheet music and a stand with clasps so the papers wouldn't blow away. After all, she couldn't keep playing the same songs over and over. She didn't want Andrew to think that was all she could do.
Once the violin was properly tuned, and the bow rosined, she set herself to start practicing the new piece.
Paige stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had locked herself in Mr. Gold's master bathroom; fortunately, he must have lit some candles in here before he… woke her. She blushed just thinking about it. Her face was pale, and she wasn't sure she wanted to meet her own gaze. Looking down at her fingernails, Gold's words echoed in her head. "I enjoyed it," she kept hearing, over and over. She kept pushing down the little voice in her mind that kept trying to tell her that she had enjoyed it, too.
Trying desperately to turn her thoughts away from that treasonous little voice, Paige started replaying some of yesterday's events. The fight with Mike was far too painful, so she pushed those memories aside firmly. She found herself wishing that she had never texted Archie, never asked him if she could talk to him. She hated that she had lied, yet again, about Mr. Gold. But when she couldn't talk about how hurt she was, and how badly she had hurt Mike, she felt she had to tell him something.
Suddenly, Paige's mouth fell open. She felt like such an idiot! She never even had to mention Gold in Archie's office! At the time, she had been so focused on all the lies she had been telling about her guardian, and about her embarrassing realization that she at least partly enjoyed his attentions, that it never occurred to her to leave him out of it. All she would have needed to do was tell Archie that she was pregnant and that she and Mike had fought about that! It would have been a believable reason for them to fight, and she never would have had to bring Gold into it at all.
She bent forward until her forehead rested against the cool countertop. About that time, she heard a sudden hum as the lights came back on. Caught by surprise, Paige jerked upright, catching sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid.
She jerked again as a knock came at the door. "Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes or so, if you're hungry, Paige," came Gold's voice through the door. There was something the way he phrased it, or perhaps just in the tone of his voice, that made Paige blush furiously at the word 'hungry.' She heard him move away from the door.
Once she felt sure he was safely downstairs, she unlocked the door to creep out into the bedroom. When she saw her clothes, folded neatly on the dresser near the bathroom door, she put them in the bathroom before venturing out again in search of her panties. She found them on the far side of the bed, but they would need to be washed before she could wear them again. She sighed heavily. She so did not want to go down there without any panties on, no matter that she would have her jeans.
When she got back to the bathroom, the hairdryer caught her eye. She could use it to dry her panties if she washed them here at the sink. If she didn't show up downstairs before breakfast was ready, Gold would probably come back up to check on her once he was done, so Paige turned on the water. She would need to hurry.
When Mr. Gold turned his car into the driveway at the duplex, Paige felt a lump in her throat. Mike's car was still gone. She prayed he hadn't tried to leave town; that had never ended well for anyone. She jumped when Mr. Gold said, "It doesn't look like he's here."
He called Noah, who still hadn't heard from Michael. Gold saw that Paige was trying hard not show how upset she was, but he had some idea what she was going through. He could never forget that mix between dread and hope when Regina had told him that Belle's father had turned his back on her. He wondered if Paige would end up with the same bad news that he had received. But whether Michael still lived or not, he was not here, which meant that Paige couldn't stay here alone for the time being.
"Well, until we get word from young Michael," Gold said, "you're going to have to decide: are you staying with me, or shall I stay with you?"
Paige stared at him like he had two heads. It took a few moments for his words to make sense to her. Oh, she signed once she realized what he meant. I, um… I'll stay with you, I guess. Just like last night, she didn't want to bring Mr. Gold into her house, where she had fought with Mike. She felt like that would be compounding her misery. Just let me go inside and grab some things I'll need.
"I'll come in with you," Gold offered.
Oh, that's not necessary, Paige signed, but it was too late. Gold had already gotten out of the car and didn't see her response.
When Paige unlocked the door, she almost couldn't make herself go inside. When she did, the first thing she saw was the pillow she'd thrown when Mike wouldn't look at her while he tried to lecture her. She picked it up, hugging it to herself as she stared around the room.
"Are you alright, Paige?" asked Mr. Gold, taking the pillow from her and placing it on the couch.
Nodding, Paige signed, I'll go pack a bag. I'll be back in just a minute.
She had packed everything she would need from the bathroom, and had a few piles of clothes on her bed. She wasn't sure how long she should be prepared to stay with Mr. Gold, so she made sure to pack several changes of underclothes. She packed two pairs of dress pants and three shirts; she worked the next three days in a row. After adding a few mix-and-match things and a pair of pajamas, she actually had two bags: the one she'd started with and another, smaller one she grabbed when not everything would fit in the first bag.
Standing in front of her mirrored dresser, she held up her right hand, where she wore a ring with six small diamonds shaped and set as petals around a small, round fire topaz. It fit better on her left ring finger, where her prince had placed it when he asked her to marry him, but in the world that was, there was no set finger for an engagement ring. A ring, if there even was a ring, was often a family heirloom, and as such would be worn on whichever finger it happened to fit. But in this place, she was Paige, and Paige was not engaged. People here might think it strange if she wore the ring on her left ring finger.
Her eyes welled up with tears as she stared at the beautiful ring. She took it off, having to tug at it slightly before it slid down her finger. After glancing at the bedroom door to make sure Mr. Gold wasn't standing there, she slipped the ring onto the finger where it belonged. She gave a nearly silent sob to see it on that finger again. Then she took it off and set it down on top of the jewelry box that had once been her mother's, grabbing her bags and heading downstairs without looking back.
Along the roadside, just before the stone sign that was meant to welcome visitors to Storybrooke, a leaning tree finally gave way to gravity. It fell nearly parallel to the road, with only a few of its branches out in the roadway. It almost obscured the tire tracks in the grass along the side of the road where an outbound car had lost control and crossed the inbound lane, careening into the woods…
Just as Eliza was unpacking her lunch, she heard a slight sound in the woods. It could have been an animal, but she had only put down her violin moments before; it wasn't very likely that any ordinary animal would have approached the clearing this soon. Her bow and quiver were lying on the blanket next to the hamper. She placed an arrow, but didn't draw the bowstring just yet; she was listening for another sound. The first had been behind her.
The next rustle sounded like it was coming around her right side. Eliza whirled, still on her knees as she drew the string and prepared to shoot. Her heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she was afraid she would miss any further sounds.
"Please don't shoot," came a man's voice from the forest.
"Who are you and why are you here?" Eliza knew that this whole area had been enchanted with the kinds of spells that simply discouraged most people from deciding to walk in the direction of the manor. They were subtle spells; unless they were looking for passive spells, even most magic users wouldn't realize the spells were there. So how had he found this place?
"May I move to where you can see me?"
Even though it made her nervous to let him move, she would like to see who had found her clearing. "Slowly. And I expect your hands out where I can see them, with no weapons in them or I will shoot." She could hear his slow footsteps, and something else besides. "Wait! Who's with you?"
"What do you mean," the voice asked as the footsteps ceased.
"I can hear something else moving out there," Eliza replied. "Moving with you. Not human, though. Something four-legged, maybe a little bigger than a hunting hound?"
The voice sounded impressed. "It's my friend, a wolf."
Startled, Eliza almost dropped her bow. "Alright," she said, a bit unsteadily. "Keep coming."
When the strange man stepped into the clearing, Eliza could tell he was used to the woods. He had the look of a man who lived most of his life outside. "I'm sorry if I startled you," he apologized. If she hadn't already fallen in love with Andrew, she might have been smitten by this woodsman. He was very good-looking, with a lilting accent to his speech that was quite captivating.
"How did you find this place?" she asked warily. Perhaps he was too good-looking. Perhaps he had been sent by someone who wished her or her kingdom harm.
"A, um, acquaintance, told me how to find you." He winced, not wanting to admit that he had made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin.
"What acquaintance," Eliza asked suspiciously. Her bow wasn't quite pointed at the man any longer, and she had eased up on the bowstring, but her arms and shoulders were still tense, still prepared to shoot if need be.
"You're Eliza, right?" the stranger asked.
"Why should that be my name?" Only the slightest hesitation gave her away. The Huntsman realized that she was good; most people would never have caught it.
He smiled as he began to realize that Andrew was in love with this young woman for a very good reason. If he were ever to look for a wife, he hoped he could find a woman like Eliza. "You're betrothed to my friend Andrew," he replied. "I just didn't realize that you weren't the, ah… typical princess."
"You've got a lot to learn about my kingdom if you think our women are required to be all soft and dainty whether they like it or not," Eliza retorted. About that time, the wolf crept out of the woods. Eliza's breath caught; one eye was red, the other black. It gave the creature an otherworldly appearance. "I've never seen a wolf with eyes like that," she whispered.
The Huntsman tensed; she still held her bow at the ready. He had no idea how good of a shot she was, but from the way she handled the weapon, she was clearly no stranger to using it. But before he could say anything, she lowered the bow.
"You're beautiful," she said softly to the wolf. Tearing her gaze away from the haunting eyes, she put the arrow back into the quiver and laid down her bow. She colored slightly when she saw her boots lying on the grass by the blanket. When she had taken them off earlier, she had simply tossed them toward the blanket's edge; one of them was on its side. But instead of apologizing for being herself, Eliza turned and met the strange man's eyes, almost defiantly. "Why are you here?"
Paige had not left Mike's side since she got the news. His car had not been found until just before 4 pm yesterday, Wednesday, by a man from the road crew checking the roads for any damage after last weekend's downpour. It had been Sunday afternoon when Mike had stormed out of Paige's living room. Doctor Whale had assured Paige that Mike would make a full recovery, but she had spent the three days when Mike was missing in a panicked state, barely able to function while working in the pawn shop. No matter what she had tried, though, Mr. Gold had not let Paige get out of work.
She and Noah had sat all night at Mike's bedside; something the doctors usually frowned upon, but Paige had been so desperate that Doctor Whale had allowed it. When Mr. Gold stopped in on his way to a Thursday council meeting, she had been dozing, her head drooping onto the bed while her hand rested over Michael's hand. Noah had brought him up to date in whispers; Michael was rapidly improving and they expected him to wake sometime that very morning. He had been quite dehydrated, and bore several bruises and scratches, some of them rather deep, but luckily, he had been wearing his seatbelt, and there weren't any serious injuries.
When the council meeting was over, and he'd had a few words with Emma after that little tragedy she'd played right into, Gold thought he would check on Paige before he opened his shop for the day. Seeing Doctor Whale in the room, he paused, watching through the glass for a moment. He didn't notice Ruby at first, who had done the same thing, but when he spoke to her, she jumped satisfyingly. "Has he woken up yet?"
"Oh, crap, you scared me!" Ruby said, her eyes wide. When she saw who had spoken, she frowned slightly. "No, but I think they said something about it happening now, I don't know. Some kind of doctor-speak."
Before Gold could comment, he noticed that Michael's eyes were opening up. He could dimly hear Doctor Whale explaining that Michael had hydroplaned out of control and crashed into the woods. Before the doctor could tell Michael about his injuries, the young man, who had been looking around, spotted his brother. He spoke to Noah, saying something Gold couldn't make out but that made Noah chuckle, before turning to Paige. Michael just stared at her for a moment before slowly looking down at his hand, which she was now holding in both of hers. Unshed tears of relief shone in her eyes.
Pulling his hand away roughly, Michael turned his back on Paige without a word. She reached out as if to take hold of his arm, but seemed to think better of it. She backed away from the bed before dashing out of the room. Gold just watched as Ruby threw herself into Paige's path and wrapped her arms around her mute friend. Paige collapsed to the ground in Ruby's embrace, sobbing nearly silently.
Mr. Gold turned his back on the whole situation. He had his shop to open up, after all. He couldn't waste time on someone else's pain, even if he knew exactly what Paige was going through right now.
All day at work the next day, Paige fretted and worried almost as much as she had when Mike was still missing. He had been released from the hospital early in the afternoon, so Paige hadn't been to see him yet. She had hoped that his near-death experience would have made him a bit more forgiving, but that didn't seem to be the case. After Ruby had calmed Paige down some, she had taken her grieving friend home, where Granny had been so sympathetic that she let Ruby have Thursday off so Paige wouldn't be alone.
When Paige's shift was over on Friday, she almost forgot to tell Gold she was leaving, and when he asked if she would need to stay with him again that night, she signed, Who knows? She was out the door before he could tell her to text him and let him know. He shook his head. It was none of his business if she wanted to throw herself at someone who seemed determined to break her heart.
Noah answered Paige's knock. "Hey, Mike, look who's here," he said brightly. Mike had told him that the fight had been a pretty bad one, but he wouldn't say what it had been about. "Paige, can I get you anything to drink?" When Paige shook her head and made the sign to thank him, Noah grabbed up Mike's water. "I'll just freshen this up," he said, even though the cup was still almost full.
Once Noah was in the kitchen, Mike glared at Paige. "What are you doing here?"
I wanted…to see how you were doing, she signed, hesitantly.
Lowering his voice so his brother wouldn't hear, Mike asked, "Are you sure you don't want to run back to Mr. Gold's bed? I understand you've spent most of the week over there." He made a disgusted noise.
Well I hardly had a choice. The man I'd rather spend my time with ran off like a little kid because he couldn't handle the situation. Paige felt miserable. The man she loved could have died, and instead of celebrating the fact that he hadn't, they were simply fighting again. She was afraid this might be all that was left between them now.
Mike didn't respond, because he knew she was right. He hadn't really tried to handle it at all. But he wasn't sure he was ready to admit that out loud. The silence stretched on too long.
I'll…I'll have my things out by the end of next week, Paige signed, crying. She headed for the door.
"Wait," Mike said, softening a bit. "Come here, Paige." When she did, he patted the arm of the chair that Noah had moved nearer to the couch, saying, "Sit down, will you, so I don't have to crane my neck!" He managed a half-smile to show that he was joking. "Paige," he started, not sure how to tell her what he wanted her to know. "I – um… I don't want you to leave."
Really? You'll stay my secondary guardian? He could see from her face how fragile her emotions were right now. It almost seemed cruel to let that hope blossom when he himself couldn't be sure that it was likely to happen.
"At least for now," he answered. "It's too much," he said, trying to explain. "I don't know if I can handle it. But what I do know is that, no matter how much my anger tells me I should leave you on your own, I know I can't make that decision right now. I have to think, to figure out what I should do." He looked into her face, where the hope was being swallowed by nervousness. "I need time. That's all I can give you right now. I can't say everything's going to be okay, I don't know that yet. And I don't want to talk about any of it right now. Just… just give me time. Can you do that?"
Looking sad, Paige signed, Yes, but please don't take too long. I'm already nine weeks pregnant. I'd really like to have this all resolved before… before the baby is born. After a long pause, she asked, So how long before you're on your feet again? I'd really like to come home.
"Doctor Whale wants someone with me tonight and tomorrow night. After that, though, I'm on my own and cleared to go back to work. So I guess you can come back on Sunday, but I think I'd better call the council to make sure it's okay." Mike hesitantly reached out and patted Paige's arm cautiously before pulling his hand back, which made Paige blink back tears.
Although she had only packed enough for herself, Eliza had shared her lunch with both the Huntsman, who had not given any other name, and the wolf. "So I hope I'm not prying, here," the Huntsman began, "but you don't seem like the type of girl to wear a dress if you can avoid it." He left the actual question unspoken.
Looking down at the full skirt that belled out around her, Eliza smiled. There was just a hint of sadness in that smile. "Out here at the manor, I don't wear dresses, except when I come to the clearing to play my violin. See, in my kingdom, women are still supposed to wear dresses unless their livelihood makes it impractical. Trust me, when I'm at the palace learning to become queen, I seldom have any excuse to put on breeches. But my mother taught me to play the violin, and she loved dresses and girly things like that. She always insisted that I wear one of my nicest dresses when she gave me my lessons." The sadness became a little more pronounced. "She died when I turned sixteen," Eliza said softly. "Even though she's not here to see, I still wear a dress every time I play."
The Huntsman couldn't really relate to this tale of parental love, but he could see that, for Eliza, this was a very good reason to go against her own preferences. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it," he said softly.
"You could not have known what was in my heart," she replied. The wolf, who had been nosing around Eliza's feet, looking for crumbs in the folds of her skirt, suddenly nosed Eliza's open hand. Without thinking, she began to stroke the wolf's head, but stopped suddenly, looking at the Huntsman. "Should I?" she asked hesitantly.
Before the Huntsman could reply, the wolf pushed against Eliza's hand again. "Apparently the wolf likes both you and your betrothed," the Huntsman said, laughing.
Eliza was a little nervous about having her hands this close to the fearsome jaws, but she stroked the wolf's head anyway, soon forgetting her anxiety and scratching behind the wolf's ears.
The Huntsman laughed to see the lazy contentment on his companion's face. "You seem to know how to scratch a wolf the right way," he joked.
Smiling, Eliza replied, "I spent a lot of time with my father's hounds when I was little." The wolf started growling, clearly insulted, but so softly that only the Huntsman seemed to hear it. "Of course," she continued, "none of the hounds were quite such fearsome and beautiful creatures."
At this, the wolf stopped growling. The Huntsman was in awe; no stranger had ever insulted the wolf without getting bitten, and certainly no one had ever been forgiven! But before he could think of anything to say, Eliza finished scratching the wolf's ears and stood up.
"I really should be heading back," she said.
"But why? Can't we talk a bit longer?" the Huntsman asked.
"I can't leave Weston alone with the rest of the boys for too long," she replied. "He's only thirteen. Or actually, fourteen, now, his birthday was a few days ago."
"Well, then, do you mind if I walk you back?" When Eliza hesitated, the Huntsman added, "I'll stay in the woods, out of sight of your brothers."
"Well, alright," said Eliza. "As long as you tell me more about how you met Andrew."
Mike had picked Paige up at Mr. Gold's house. Paige texted Gold that she was leaving and had locked up behind herself; the pawn shop was open for a short time on Sundays. She figured that Mike had intentionally waited to come and pick her up until he knew Gold would be gone.
After he carried her bags upstairs to her bedroom, Mike said, "While you unpack, I'll go pick up something from Granny's. Unless you had lunch at… over there." He didn't want mention the name. It made him too uncomfortable.
No, I didn't, Paige signed. It won't take long, we could go together and eat at Granny's. Or I could just unpack later, she offered.
"No, I don't feel like… eating… in public." In truth, he didn't want to go out with Paige as if nothing were wrong, but he was really trying not to hurt her feelings. Besides, he had another stop that he couldn't make if Paige came along.
But Paige heard the hesitation in his voice. Hurt, she signed, Oh, okay, well, I…guess I'll see you when you get back. She knew it was too soon to tell for sure, but she was afraid she had been right to think that she was losing him.
Mr. Gold heard the bell tinkle. He pushed through the curtain that covered the door to the back room. It was rare for him to have a customer on a Sunday. But then, this wasn't exactly going to be a customer.
When he saw young Michael, he said, "Why, Michael! Isn't this a surprise?" He didn't sound particularly surprised, though. "I thought you would be spending some time with Paige," he added.
"I'm picking up a late lunch for us," said Mike tensely. "I just want you to know that I know what's going on, and I want it to stop."
"Whatever do you mean, Michael?" asked Gold. He knew the young man didn't want to say it, so he intended to make him face it.
"What you're doing to Paige," Mike said, impatient.
"Am I doing something to Paige that's upsetting anyone?" Gold asked innocently.
"You're taking advantage of her!"
"And how exactly am I doing that?" Mr. Gold's smirk was devious.
Mike blushed and lowered his voice, although there was no one in the shop aside from himself and Gold. "You're forcing her to have sex with you," he hissed.
Gold's smirk deepened. "Oh, am I really? She seems to enjoy it quite a bit."
His face reddening further, Mike said, "Does she? Or do you just tell her she has to say that if anyone asks?"
"Well, unless she's been faking it all along, then yes, she really does enjoy it. And she has certainly never told me she wants to stop what we're doing." Mr. Gold leaned against a counter. "And whatever she has told you about us is her own choice. I know better than to try telling a woman like her what to say or do. But perhaps you don't."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike was indignant.
"It means that you don't know her as well as you think you do if you believe she could be forced into doing something she doesn't want to do, and more than that, forced to lie about it." His arms folded over his chest, Gold's voice was cold. "Paige is a strong young woman, not some helpless damsel to be swept about by the whims of others."
"How dare you say I don't know her?" Mike knew Paige had a strong will, but how could she want to let Gold touch her?
Before Michael could say more, Mr. Gold cut him off. "I'm not the one who's breaking her heart, and I don't particularly want to be the one to pick up the pieces. I don't know if Paige told you this part, but we don't have romantic feelings for each other. She's in love with you, Michael, and if you're as smart as you seem to be, you'll fight for that. And if you're man enough to do that, you and I can have another little chat. I'm sure we could work something out if you wanted to stop dithering and step up for her."
Mike hesitated; did Gold mean what Mike thought he meant? It sounded like he was saying that if Mike and Paige started dating, really, seriously dating, Gold would stop molesting Paige. Because no matter what anyone said, Mike couldn't believe it was consensual.
"Oh, and by the way, Michael," said Gold, "there is the little issue of your mother." Before the young man could speak, Mr. Gold continued, "I did you a favor there, which means you owe me one."
Wary, Mike asked, "And what exactly do you want?"
"Oh, nothing much," Gold replied. "Just your discretion on the subject of what's going on between Paige and myself. It should be left up to the two of us whether or not anyone needs to know about us."
"I…guess I can agree with that," Mike said. He had heard this about Gold, that the man only helped out in exchange for something. "But we're square now, right?" His gut told him to make sure that it was fully understood that nothing more was owed.
"Oh, yes. We're even now," said Gold, "once you make that little promise to me."
Almost sulkily, Mike replied, "I promise I won't tell anyone what's going on between you and Paige." He felt too embarrassed to meet Gold's eyes. It seemed as though he was almost giving permission or something. He didn't like making this promise, but something told him that he shouldn't cross Gold unless he was prepared to pay serious consequences.
"Thank you, Michael." When Mike just stared sullenly, Gold said scornfully, "Now if you don't mind, I have work to do."
Eliza struggled, but the Huntsman was too strong for her. He must be working with that awful witch, he must! Why else would he hold her here so she couldn't kill the creature who had turned her brothers into swans? The six of them were all flying in circles around the clearing where the manor stood, clearly baffled by what had happened to them. She tried to stomp on his feet, quite forgetting that she had not bothered to put her boots back on for the walk home.
Looking satisfied, the witch started down the path that led away from the manor. Eliza struggled harder, almost breaking free, when she noticed that the witch wore a cloak bearing her father's sigil! It must be that horrible swamp-woman! Father was right about her!
With the Huntsman's hand over her mouth, she couldn't even shout curses at the woman. When the witch disappeared, Eliza sagged in his arms. She had never felt so helpless and degraded in her life! As she started to calm down a bit, she realized that the Huntsman had been talking to her all this time. His voice was so low she could barely hear it; unlike a whisper, this sound probably couldn't have been heard more than a pace or two away. Whispers tended to have a harshness to them that could be heard from further away, although not necessarily understood.
"There's nothing you can do," he was saying. "She must have been preparing this for some time now; if you attack her, you will surely only end up as a swan yourself – or worse! There has to be another way to bring her to justice!" He very much felt like a wolf himself right now; it would be immensely satisfying to run out there and bite that witch! To take her throat in his teeth and shake until she was dead! Even in the short time he had known Eliza, she had also become a friend, and if it would help, he would kill for her. But Rumpelstiltskin had warned him, and the vile creature always seemed to know about the future.
When he saw that Eliza had calmed enough, the Huntsman let her go, eyeing her warily. She might still decide to attack him, either because she thought he was working with the enemy or simply because he had kept her from her revenge.
"I guess I should thank you for that," Eliza said tightly, "but I don't want to. That was that swamp-witch trying to seduce my father!"
"Can your father catch her unawares? So she cannot have her spells prepared?"
"I believe so," Eliza answered.
"Then that's what you should do. Wait here for your father; didn't you say he would be here tomorrow?" The Huntsman hoped he was helping, for Eliza was still agitated. She couldn't stop staring up at the six swans that kept trying to land on the roof of the manor.
"Yes, tomorrow," she said. She sounded like she was about to cry. "I have to see to my brothers now. Thank you for your help." She still didn't want to thank him, but she knew that if he hadn't stopped her, she would not be here to thank anyone. "If you see Andrew before I do, tell him… tell him I love him, but I have to take care of my brothers!"
Without waiting for a reply, she ran out into the clearing, crying out her brothers' names. When they saw her, they swooped down to circle her before flying away in search of a lake. She ran, following them, trying to keep them in sight. But they eventually passed over the small, unnamed river that lay a few miles from the manor, in nearly the opposite direction from Eliza's clearing. Eliza could not follow them further, and climbed up on a large rock near a bend in the river, reaching out toward her brothers as they continued to fly away from her. She never even noticed all the cuts and bruises on her bare feet.
Paige sat up, stretching. It was a Monday morning, but unlike most Mondays, she didn't have to work today. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and originally, she and Mike had planned to spend the day together since he was supposed to have been off today and work tomorrow. But after missing all of last week, he had agreed to go in today as well as tomorrow, and besides, after their fight, she knew he wouldn't want to go on what would seem like a date with her.
So she would be alone all day, which was depressing in some ways, but maybe she could get some spinning done today. She was getting better at it; the yarn wasn't quite as lumpy anymore. She had, of course, kept even the lumpiest yarn, mostly because she didn't want to waste her time or her nettle fibers. She still had quite a stash of fibers from the summer; it had been hard, hot work trying to pound them in her basement in the middle of a near-drought, but it was something that had to be done.
She also had started about two dozen potted nettle plants, but four of them hadn't survived. The rest she was carefully cultivating. Usually, no one but her ventured into her basement, but if anyone discovered the plants in her makeshift greenhouse, she would tell them all about the healthy effects of nettle leaf tea. It was supposed to be quite good for pregnant women, as well. She remembered Dr. Nerean brewing it up for her mother quite frequently, especially during the last few months of pregnancy. She had asked him about it while her mother was pregnant with the twins; he explained that it was good for easing the pain both during and after the birth, and could also be used afterwards to increase the richness and the amount of breast milk. When she had looked it up here in this world, everything she'd found had indicated that he was correct. So some of those precious nettle leaves ended up as tea instead of yarn.
It wasn't quite time for Mike to leave yet, but his car wasn't in the driveway. For a moment, Paige panicked, wondering if it had all been a dream and Mike hadn't been found yet. But then she remembered that Mike's car had been totaled. While he was waiting for the insurance company to send him a check, he had asked around and found some people willing to give him rides. As Paige watched, a car pulled up. Mike must have been waiting on the porch, because he came into sight almost right away and got in the car.
Sighing, Paige started making her bed. After breakfast, she realized that she hadn't been here for a full week. So she put off her plans to spin, at least for this morning, anyway. This place needed a good cleaning.
She was just trying to decide whether she should stop for lunch or take another hour or so and finish up when she heard a car pull up the driveway. She dropped what she was doing and headed for the door. Was Mike sick? Had it been too soon for him to go back to work?
But the stranger who came up on the porch was by himself. "Um, hi," he said uncertainly. "Is this there a Mike Cochran at this address?"
Unable to effectively communicate, Paige nodded in answer to his question, but then tapped her fingers to her throat and shook her head no.
"Are you okay, miss?" The stranger's confusion was evident.
Paige held up her finger in a "give me one moment" gesture and ducked back into her side of the house. She frantically rummaged through the drawers of her end tables; surely she had pen and paper in one of them? When she finally found some, she rushed back outside, where the stranger had taken a few steps toward her door, clearly wondering what was going on.
Paige tried to write neatly, but quickly. When she had finished, she handed the pad of paper to the guy standing on her porch.
After reading it, he said, "Oh, um, Paige, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were, well, mute."
Paige nodded taking the notepad back to write that Mike did, indeed, live here, but was working today. She asked if she could take his name and number so Mike could call him later.
"Yeah, sure, that would be great," the guy said, but he took the pen from Paige to write his own name and number on a new page in the notepad. As he did so, he introduced himself to Paige. "I'm Mark Edwards, I'm on the Storybrooke road crew? You know, like maintaining the roads and getting trees off electric lines, not like a rock star's road crew." He laughed, but the joke fell flat when Paige didn't quite get it. "Anyway, I'm the one who found Mike's car," he went on. "I had wanted to see him in the hospital, but I didn't find out his name in time. And I found this address in the phone book, so I was hoping I could find him here and just… you know, see how he's doing. And if he remembers me."
He had handed the notepad back to Paige when he finished writing down his name and number, so she wrote him another note.
Mark replied, "Oh, no, he wasn't conscious when I found him. But we used to be neighbors when we were kids." Sadness touched his features. "His dad… his dad saved my little sister's life." Mark didn't elaborate, but Paige knew Mike's father had been a volunteer fireman, and had died saving a little girl's life. She was pretty sure that Mark's little sister had been that girl.
Paige wrote again on the notepad. Even if Mike never forgave her, she was still grateful to this man for having saved the life of the man she couldn't imagine living without. But she didn't tell Mark just how much Mike meant to her; she simply thanked him for what he had done.
"Oh, you're welcome. I just… happened to come along, you know? I'm just glad he was okay." Mark smiled at Paige. "I should probably stop wasting your time, Paige. Thanks for taking my number for Mike. I really appreciate it." He rather awkwardly shook hands with Paige, and then left.
Paige wished Mike had been here. She was sure he would have been happy to meet the person who saved his life, especially since that person seemed to be an old friend. She put the paper with Mark's phone number on her dining table, weighting it down with a large candle from the centerpiece so it wouldn't get lost.
Just when Paige was about to head to the basement to do a little spinning before Mike came back from work, her doorbell rang. She jumped, looking guiltily at the door. Taking a deep breath and trying to smooth her features, Paige unlocked her door. Her worst fears were realized when Mr. Gold stepped in. She looked at the clock, surprised to see that it was right in the middle of his usual lunch hour. For some reason, she had thought it was later than that.
Before she could sign anything, Gold pushed past her, saying in a terse voice, "I need to talk to you, Paige."
At his angry expression, Paige's face went pale. What could he be so upset about?
"Your 'young man' came to see me yesterday," Gold began, watching Paige's face to see if she had known about it. But her surprise was genuine. She hadn't had anything to do with Michael's little…visit. "He seems to think that I'm not only forcing myself on you, but that I am also forcing you to lie about it." He watched Paige flounder, trying to figure out what to say.
I… when did he do that? Paige had a hard time imagining Mike confronting Gold about this. Mike couldn't even stand to say the other man's name.
"He said he was on his way to pick up some lunch for the two of you." Even though he knew that Paige hadn't encouraged this, he could tell that she was afraid he would think that she had, so he pressed her buttons. "What have you told him about us?"
Just that we've… well, you know. And he seemed to think you might have hurt me, he kept asking if you were gentle with me –
Cutting her off, Gold asked, "And what did you say to that?"
Always. I told him you're always gentle with me. Paige's face was beet red.
Still glaring at her, Mr. Gold asked, "And what else did you tell him?"
Paige felt like her face would catch fire any minute now. I said… I told him… I told him how you always make sure I… enjoy myself. That you… make me feel good. She wanted to see his expression, but she couldn't meet his eyes.
"Did you even hint to him that you wanted me to stop?" Although it never showed on his face, Gold delighted at Paige's cringing.
No! She did meet his eyes now, terrified that he wouldn't believe her. I never said anything like that! I told him that I always enjoy what you do to me, and that it was none of his business who I decide to have sex with!
There, she'd said it. She had admitted out loud, to his face, that she was enjoying herself. Gold let his expression start softening, but he still had one more thing he wanted from Paige today. "I've decided that I do not want young Michael to claim the child as his own. When you're ready to tell people you're pregnant, you will tell them the truth – that I am the father."
Paige shook her head. I won't do that. This is my baby!
"Only by half, Paige. I did most of the work," he said. His tone was partly angry and partly insinuating.
No. I will not let you have my baby! Paige was getting angry now.
Gold gave a cold little laugh. "I'm not asking you to hand over the baby. I'm simply asking to be acknowledged as the father."
I don't believe you. Why is it that you deal in children? I don't trust you!
"What do you mean, 'deal in children?'" Gold wondered yet again if Paige somehow remembered her true past.
You found Henry for the Mayor. You made a deal to take that Ashley girl's baby. Now you're demanding mine! What is it with you and babies? Paige had always wondered; in the world that was, Rumpelstiltskin had a reputation for asking for the firstborn child as his price. If she could keep it from him, she didn't want him to know that she remembered, but she could feel her temper rising beyond the point of control. She struggled with herself, trying to force her anger back down again.
"I am this child's father, and as such, I have rights." Gold's voice was low, threatening.
This child was not conceived in love, and you failed to negotiate yourself any rights. As soon as she signed that, Paige knew she had gone one step too far. Gold was going to find out now, whether Paige liked it or not. Damn her temper!
Mr. Gold went still. "And what is that supposed to mean, Paige?"
Paige swallowed, hard. He reminded her of a nature special she had seen, where the lion seemed so still that she thought it might have been holding its breath as it waited for the right moment to pounce on the helpless gazelle. And she had no illusions; she was definitely the gazelle. The only thing she could do now was step up and tell him. I remember everything.
When Gold didn't respond, Paige couldn't tell if it was a good sign or a bad one, but she had started this, so she might as well keep going. I was betrothed to my true love. I was going to be a queen, and a damn good one, too. Until my brothers were put under a spell by a witch from a swamp. I don't know if you knew her, but then again, I sometimes wonder if you had a hand in that part of my misfortunes as well. Paige was trying to tread carefully, but Gold's face gave away nothing right now. You made a deal with me. You stole my innocence in exchange for knowledge, so I could save my brothers. When you were making that deal, you said that a child would result, but that was it. I agreed to sign your foul contract, and, in essence, agreed to bear your child, but it was you who failed to specify what part you would have in that child's life. Gold still hadn't moved or tried to speak, but he could no longer keep the fury from his face. Paige trembled at his expression, but she couldn't stop now. I remember everything, she repeated. She didn't know how to say his name in sign language, so she spelled it out. I remember you, R – U – M – P – E – L – S – T – I – L – T – S – K – I – N.
As he watched Paige's hands, Gold's fury grew and grew until he was in a rage. He had decided long ago not to leave any marks on her in this world, but now he weighed his options and decided that, not only would it be satisfying to hurt her, it would most likely frighten her into submission. And besides, it would feel so good to give his anger an outlet. So when she had finished spelling out his fairy-tale name, Mr. Gold deliberately chose rage. He dropped his cane and grabbed Paige by the front of her shirt. The neckline was a fairly modest v, which he ripped open with an almost inhuman strength. In the same movement, he brought his face to her cleavage, savagely biting her right breast, just above her bra. He sank his teeth in, intending to do some damage.
But Paige put her hands up and shoved him away from her as hard as she could. He staggered back, his arms milling as he tried to catch himself. He landed in an ungainly sprawl across her loveseat, looking shocked.
This is what you've done to me, she signed, her face angry and just a touch triumphant. Because of you, I have hormones racing through my body that turn even this timid little mouse into a fierce tigress protecting her cub. I will not let you harm my baby. I swear it. Without taking her eyes off Gold, Paige bent to pick up his cane and tossed it at him. Now get out of my house, she signed, glaring.
Paige stood there and watched him limp out, refusing to acknowledge the pain from his bite until he was well and truly gone.
A few notes:
This chapter takes place during the episode "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree."
The stranger near the end is NOT intended to be the actual stranger in town, the writer August W. Booth, but simply someone who is a stranger to Paige. Just wanted to make sure that was clear. Mark Edwards is another OC, and more about his background will be revealed later…
Hope you enjoyed this, and please review!
