37
Cursebreaking
Vasilisa crossed her arms over her chest. "Rumplestiltskin, you quit shouting at me!"
"I will not!" he yelled. "It's my house, you're my sister, and I'll yell if I want to! What do you mean, you married a pirate? Did he . . . seduce you?"
Vasilisa shook her head. "Calm down, Rumple. He's not a wicked pirate, and we both seduced each other, if you want the truth."
"That's it. I'm killing him!"
"You'll have to go through me first, big brother," she glared at him warningly. "Now stop acting like a crazy man."
Gold sucked in a breath. "Crazy! Dearie, you have no idea just how crazy I am! How could you marry a PIRATE!?"
"Why does that bother you so much?"
"Because a bloody pirate stole away my first wife! And she never came home again," her brother snapped. "She left me and my son alone and I was the one who had to tell him his mother was gone. My heart damn near cracked in two that day. Not for myself, but for him."
Vasilisa cocked her head, her green eyes suddenly glittering as she Saw something in the past. "Did he really steal her, Rumple? Or did she run off with him?"
"He did both, okay? That ought to be enough," Rumple said shortly.
"Oh, Rumple. I'm sorry. Jack's nothing like that."
Her brother snorted. "One pirate's like another."
Vasilisa stiffened. "No! Jack's never been one to steal anybody's wife. Though sometimes he can be a bit . . . cavalier with other people's belongings. Now stop being a prejudiced idiot! Not all pirates are like Hook."
Gold looked startled. "How did you know that's who Milah went with?"
Vasilisa rolled her eyes. "Well, gee, old dragon, maybe I saw it in my crystal ball."
"Damn it, Rhea! Why couldn't you marry a . . . a prince, or a spinner, or a candlemaker or something? Why'd you have to go and marry a pirate?"
"Because my heart told me to. Just like yours told you to marry a princess."
"That's not a good answer."
"It's the only one you're going to get, you old pain in the ass. So shut up and deal with it, dearie," Vasilisa snapped back.
"All right, dearie, I'll give him a chance. . . but I swear, if I see any guyliner I'm decking him!" he threatened.
"Rumple! What's going on in here?" Belle cried, coming into the study looking alarmed. "I could hear you bellowing from all the way downstairs."
Vasilisa turned to her. "I'm afraid I gave him some rather upsetting news."
"What news?" Belle asked.
"I'm married . . . to a pirate name Jack Sparrow. Though Jack prefers the term treasure hunter," her sister-in-law informed Belle.
Belle's eyes went suddenly dreamy. "Oh! You are? Is he really as handsome as they say?"
"Hey! Who cares?" her husband cried.
Vasilisa smirked. "He sure is! Just wait till you meet him."
"Oh, joy," Rumple said sourly.
"Rumple, quit being a spoilsport. I guarantee that once you get to know Jack, you'll get along like a house on fire," Vasilisa reassured him. "And just so you know, Jack's ship and crew might smuggle and hunt for treasure but they don't do the other things Hook and his crew do—like hurting innocents. Matter of fact, Hook is old enemies with Jack, and always has been. Hook detests him and the feeling's mutual. Last time they met, Hook swore to rip off Jack's ear, and Jack promised to give him a new smile and almost slit his throat. That was after Hook tried to steal me away when I was pregnant with my daughter."
"That scumbag bottom feeder is a dead man!" Rumple vowed.
Belle looked at Vasilisa. "I'm surprised he's not dead already for that."
"Well, Jack did try and kill him, but he escaped and hid out in Neverland for a long time," Vasilisa said simply. "I couldn't do much of anything to him magically then, since being pregnant saps an enchantress's power."
Belle gasped. "It . . . does?"
"Yes. Which is why most sorceresses avoid it like the plague. It's the one time I was sorry I wasn't a man," Vasilisa sighed. "Forty weeks without my powers, as an ordinary woman. That's why I only have two kids."
"And is he this old enemy your husband and children are chasing?" queried Rumple.
"Yes. You see, Hook deliberately picked a fight with one of Jack's officers, a good friend of ours name Will Turner. He tried to kidnap Will's wife, Elizabeth, only Will stopped him before he could get her aboard the Jolly Roger. He also tried to steal a golden harp and some other magical items Will had in his storage shed. In the fight that followed, Hook burnt Will's house down, and killed several of his servants, who were actually more friends than that when all was said and done. He also almost roasted Will and Elizabeth's kids, who were sleeping inside. They almost died, but they managed to jump out the window and his youngest, Jilly, ended up with a broken leg. It also left them homeless. So Will swore he'd string Hook up by his balls . . . and Jack agreed to help him. So that's what they're doing now . . . trying to find the cagey eel. I would have been helping them, but I needed to help you first."
"That damn pirate never learns to keep his hands off other people's wives," Rumple swore. "You ought to be with your husband."
"No. Not yet. Jack understands. He told me to come to you. He said we've been apart long enough, and Hook was his headache right then. So he took the Black Pearl and sailed away to find him, with his crew and our children. My daughter Jessalyn—Jess for short—has magic, so she's helping him search, and my son Will—named after Mr. Turner—is one of the best navigators ever to set foot on a ship. So Jack's well supported—and Hook's food for the sharks when they finally get him. Besides, if there was trouble, one of my kids would have called me on this," she held out a clear crystal pendant on a chain about her neck. "Communication crystal. With this they can contact me wherever in the realms I am. And they're linked, so we can all find each other, once I concentrate on them."
"Well, that's a handy bit of magic. Perhaps I should make some for my family," Rumple said.
"That's a good idea," Vasilisa said. "I have extra crystals in my pack if you need them. Now, if you're all done breathing fire, old dragon, what do you say to having some more of that . . . popped corn stuff and watching that black box of yours downstairs?"
Rumple's eyes crinkled. "You want to watch a movie on my television?"
"Didn't I just say so?" Vasilisa arched an eyebrow. "Are you starting to go deaf?"
"Watch it, dearie," he shook a playful finger at her. "That's no way to talk to your much older and wiser brother."
Vasilisa rolled her expressive green eyes. "Bite me, Rumple."
Belle burst out laughing. "Were you . . . uh . . . this sassy when you were his apprentice?"
"Sometimes I was worse," she admitted, smirking.
"You see what I had to put up with?" Rumple gestured at his sibling.
"Nothing that any older brother hasn't had to put up with since the beginning of time, dearie," Vasilisa laughed. Then she spun about and disappeared through the door.
"Brat!" Rumple called, making a face at her.
Belle started giggling again. "How old are you again, Rumple?"
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Hush, Mrs. Gold. I'm making up for lost time." Then he kissed her and said, "Shall we join them? Or do you want to make up an excuse to go to bed early?"
"Rumple!" she swatted him playfully on the behind. "Let's go downstairs for awhile . . . then we can go to bed."
"As you wish," he bowed slightly to her and gestured her out of the room.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
The next afternoon, Vasilisa decided to begin trying to break the curse on the dagger, since she felt time was of the essence. First, she asked Mr. Gold where the dagger was hidden. He whispered to her under the shield of a concealment spell she cast that it was hidden in the clock tower of Storybrooke.
Smiling, she went and retrieved it. Then she spent nearly three hours studying it with her magical Sight, looking at and trying to determine exactly how the curse had been cast and the way it was tangled up in Rumple's aura. Black spidery filaments of magic reached out and then vanished into thin air as she examined it, and she knew that were the curse able to, it would have latched onto her brother's magical lifeforce and tainted it again.
But because the curse rendered it inactive, there was nothing for the dark magic to latch onto.
Sitting crosslegged on the floor of Rumple's workroom, Vasilisa concentrated on Seeing the dagger, not physically, but magically. She used her prescience in brief touches, allowing it to show her the predecessors who had used the dagger before Rumple, she saw glimpses of many Dark Ones, and how the dagger had twisted and tainted them with its compulsions, bringing out the most vicious, most bloodthirsty, most dark side of their natures. She discovered that the Dark Ones before Rumple had been much worse than he was—they had killed and destroyed whole kingdoms at the whim of those who held the dagger, and the dagger holders were almost as bad as the Dark Ones themselves. In contrast, her brother was mild as milk, and she knew it had to do with the fact that he was not normally an aggressive soul.
Those who had been quick to anger and quick to lash out had become the worst Dark Ones, as they had succumbed very quickly to the dagger's siren compulsion and surrendered to the dagger's curse and never climbed out of the pit they had fallen into. Also, no Dark One before Rumple had ever taken the curse of the dagger for someone else. Always they had sought power for themselves, and their own evil purposes.
But Rumple's basic core was one of patience and gentleness, though Vasilisa never mistook that to mean her brother was weak, or a coward, like most would have. The greatest power does not roar, it whispers, and the gentle flow of water topples mighty mountains, she had written once, and it was true. She had brought down many a monster with her husband with a few simple magic spells, by finding out weaknesses and exploiting them, not by vanquishing them with a show of power, though she was perfectly capable of doing such. She preferred subtlety.
She learned that the dagger subverted those it cursed by using their own basic natures against them, warping their darkest desires and making them slaves to impulse. Greed, jealousy, hatred, and anger were the emotions the dagger spawned in the Dark One's cursed heart.
But because Rumple was not normally an aggressive or violent person, it had taken longer for the dagger to subvert him, she realized. Indeed, his reason for becoming the Dark One and his very "cowardice" had prevented the curse from totally destroying the good man he had been. For like most magic, intent mattered as much as power, and while Rumplestiltskin had been misguided, his intentions had been selfless, brave, and true. The dagger had taken those good intentions and twisted them, but it hadn't been able to get quite the grip on her brother as it had on the previous Dark Ones.
And it was his gentle heart that was now his saving grace. A heart that was, for all the darkness that had tainted it, still capable of love and being loved in return.
That, she thought, was the reason why she would be able to free him.
After determining the nature of the curse itself, she began to consider the options she had in breaking it.
After another exhausting hour of Seeing with Mage Sight, she determined she needed to break it in two ways. The first was a potion. The second was by redirecting the curse itself. It was the last option that would cause her the most difficulty . . . and was the most dangerous. But she knew that if the dagger were to be truly destroyed, she had to do so.
For the beating of five heartbeats, I must hold death in my hands. I must flirt with darkness, and challenge the beast within my own soul. And then I must strike.
Her mind made up, she went upstairs to rest before dinner, and take a small vial of a headache remedy, since so much use of her magical sight was causing her head to pound.
Rumple noted her wan appearance and queried softly, "You okay, dearie?"
She smiled at him. "Yes. Just a little drained. I'll be fine with a nap."
"Have you . . . figured anything out yet?"
"Yes. Much has been revealed to me. I need to make a potion, Rumple. But first I need to sleep."
After dinner that night, she spoke privately with some of her family members, drawing them aside in pairs. The first ones she sought were Alina and Henry.
"You remember how you came to me a few days ago and asked me if I could break the curse of the Dark One?"
Henry nodded. "Yeah. You said you could."
"That's true. But in order to do so, I need to make a potion. And I need your help for some of the ingredients."
"What do we need to do?" asked the boy eagerly.
"I need a hair from you, Henry," Vasilisa said. "And I need one from you as well, Alina."
They both gave her a strand of their hair, and Vasilisa tucked them carefully inside a small phial.
"Is there anything else we can do to help?" Alina wanted to know.
"Yes. I need you to focus on all the good memories you have of Rumple. That will create a positive aura, which I need if I am to succeed."
"How long should we do that for?" asked Henry.
"For about ten minutes every night for the next two nights," she replied. She didn't tell them that positive thoughts would act like a buffer against the dark magic that she would release during the second stage of the cursebreaking.
Next she went to Belle and Baelfire. She explained to Bae that she was trying to break the dagger curse and would need his help. "Since the curse was partially set in motion for you, you are a key player in my breaking of it," Vasilisa explained. "I'm going to need you to be there with me and Rumple when I cast the spell that will hopefully shatter the curse."
"I will," he assured her. "Just tell me when you need me."
She nodded. "Not for awhile yet. But I do need two things from you. A single drop of blood and a hair."
He plucked a hair from his head and gave it to her. Then she handed him a pin and he pricked his finger. She collected the drop of blood in another vial and added the hair to it, then capped it.
"What are you doing with them?" he asked.
"I'm making a potion with true love ingredients that will break the curse," she replied. "With something from all those who love Rumple best." She turned to Belle. "From you, Belle, I need a most important ingredient. I need a tear from you. But not just any tear. A tear cried out of joy, but that joy must be from something Rumple has done to you or for you." She handed Belle a small vial. "If you can manage to weep a tear like I've described, catch it in here and then give it to me."
"And this tear will help break the curse?" Belle asked.
"Yes. True love's tears are almost as powerful as true love's kiss. Especially happy tears. Oh, and one other thing. I need you to recall as many good memories as you can about Rumple. And not just memories, but think of why you love your husband, Belle. Say them to yourself like a mantra, every night for two days."
"That shouldn't be too hard," she said.
"Should I do that too? Think of good memories about my father?" asked Bae.
"Yes."
"What does that do?" Belle wanted to know.
"It creates a shield of positive energy around Rumple. Light to counteract darkness," the Seer replied. "I shall be doing the same each day as I meditate."
"When do you need the tear by?" Belle queried.
"In a few days, if you can get it to me," Vasilisa answered.
"Don't worry. I will," she assured the sorceress.
Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break
Two nights later, Belle washed her hair with the rose and honey scented shampoo she knew Rumple loved, making sure it clung to her tresses even after she'd rinsed it by using a conditioning mask. She also used some lotion with the same scent on it, and was relaxing on their bed with a book, lying on her stomach in her lacy golden nightgown when her husband came into their bedroom.
"Hey. What are you reading now, dearie?" he asked, giving her a lazy grin of appreciation, his eyes roaming all over her slender frame.
"It's a . . . book about lovers forced to part and a ring that brings them back together," she replied, propping herself on an elbow.
"Hmm. Sounds like Snow and Charming. Charming used a ring I enchanted for him once to find her," he remarked wryly. He sat down on the bed next to her and tossed his tie on the chair in the corner.
"Oh. Maybe they should have used a chipped cup," Belle replied impishly. She had the small vial Vasilisa had given her on her nightstand. She had spent the past twenty minutes thinking about her husband, and all the myriad reasons why she had fallen in love with him.
"No. That's only for us," he smirked, his brown eyes dancing as they wandered leisurely over her petite figure, caressing her with his gaze. He unbuttoned his shirt, then tossed it casually on the same chair as his tie, and leaned over to see what she was reading. He gently shut the book and murmured, "I think, love, that we can do something far more interesting than read about other people tonight."
Belle rolled over and whispered in his ear, "Like what, sweetheart?"
"This." He brought his mouth down over her ear, gently teasing it with his tongue.
Belle shivered. His caress made her quiver from head to foot. "Rumple! That tickles."
He gave her a roguish smile, and then began to kiss her neck, playing with her hair and inhaling the sweet scent of honeyed roses as he did so. "Mmm! You smell good enough to eat, dearie!" he crooned, his voice a soft rumble that echoed in her ears.
She reached for him then, twining her hands in his hair and pulling him close. "Do you want to devour me, you hungry beast?"
"Yes . . . every night," he purred, and playfully nibbled his way down her neck.
She squealed in delight and nipped his ear.
Soon their playful love bites turned into something more heated, and they lost themselves in each other, giving and taking in a shared ecstasy that was by turns gentle and passionate.
Belle always marveled at how attuned to her Rumple was, he seemed to know instinctively what she liked and sought to please her. Tonight he was especially attentive, he brought her to the heights of ecstasy, using those fine fingered hands to give her pleasure. He was like a hurricane, lifting her up and tossing her about, then drawing her to him in a fierce embrace. He was at turns gentle as summer rain and fierce as a desert sandstorm. He made her feel joy and pleasure and delight so great she feared she would die of it.
Yet she did not, instead whispering his name like a benediction, "Rumplestiltskin!"
"Say my name, sweetheart, and tame the beast," he purred, curling around her, gasping sharply as her lips branded him with fiery kisses, her hands stroking and caressing, even his scarred lame leg was somehow made beautiful by her touch.
"Rumplestiltskin!"
"Yes, beloved?"
"I love you. So very much."
"And so do I," he said, then kissed her with such exquisite passion that it brought tears to her eyes.
As her eyes were suddenly blurred with tears, she touched her finger to her cheek and captured one tear, wept in a moment of unsurpassed joy. "Rumple, wait a moment," she said, and she turned and grabbed the vial off the nightstand and deposited the tear inside it, capping it securely before turning back to her husband.
"What were you doing? Why are you crying?" he asked, alarmed. "Did I hurt you?"
"No. No. I'm fine. These are tears of joy, not of pain."
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure," she answered, then she pushed him down on the bed and growled, "See? The beauty has tamed the beast . . . because she knows his heart and she loves him best of all."
"God only knows why."
"I know why," she replied."Let me tell you." Then she began to list everything he did that made her happy, inbetween kisses, until they lay sated at last in each other's arms.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Once Belle's tear had been acquired, Vasilisa used Rumple's workroom to mix the ingredients together for the potion. She allowed Emma , Henry, and Alina to watch as she did this, saying, "When you make a potion, the key is preciseness and accuracy. Each ingredient must be added to your cauldron at the proper time and stirred a certain number of times clockwise and be allowed to simmer at a particular temperature."
"How do you know all that?" asked Emma.
"You study the potions texts given to you by your master," Vasilisa answered. "Or you're told the proper way to make it by your teacher."
"It's almost like chemistry," Alina observed.
"Indeed. Much about brewing potions is like chemistry, only the rules and formulas are different," Vasilisa said. "Very good, Alina!"
Once the potion was brewed and decanted, Vasilisa said, "I need you three to go upstairs and call Rumple and Bae down here. And after that please continue to think of good memories about your mentor."
"Will do," Emma said, and then she headed upstairs with Alina and Henry.
While they did that, Vasilisa unwrapped the dagger from the small green cloth she had placed it in and laid it face up at her feet. She knelt in front of it, rather like a priestess at an altar, turning her palms up, and speaking softly in the language of magic.
Her hands traced several lines of a protective circle about the dagger and herself, but she did not close it. Instead she drew a silver athame from her belt, an item thrice blessed by the gods of earth, fire, and air, and pricked her finger with it. She carefully caught the drop of blood in the vial of potion.
As she heard Bae coming downstairs, she rose, the vial in one hand and the athame in the other and turned to face the stairway.
"Where do you want me to stand?" he asked.
"Over there, to the north, on the far side of the circle," she said, indicating the direction with a jerk of her head. "I also need you to do one more thing for me. No matter what happens, you cannot interfere once I begin casting. Break the circle and you break my concentration and all I've done here will fail."
"I understand," Baelfire said.
"Rumple understands that too. But . . . he might forget if things get . . . complicated," she stared directly at Baelfire. "This will not be an easy curse to break and you might . . . see things that are disturbing. But you must remain outside the circle . . . and make sure that he does as well."
"Okay," her nephew said, just as Rumple limped into the room.
He came to stand on the opposite of the circle, and looked questioningly at his sister. "Are you ready?"
"Yes. Are you?"
"I am."
"Good. I'm going to need some of your blood before I begin. As a catalyst."
He held out a hand. "Take it."
She moved around the circle then, taking his hand in hers and nicking the base of his thumb with her athame. As the blood beaded upon her dagger, she added it to the potion and swirled it and then chanted, "With this blood I call to thee, dagger of darkness, by blood you are bound, come to me!"
The dagger on the cloth began to quiver.
Vasilisa quickly stepped back within the circle and sealed it with a wave of her hand. Then she tucked the athame back into her belt and poured the completed potion over the dagger.
It smoked and hissed as it hit the cold obsidian blade, green tendrils of energy streaming off it.
Rumple gasped sharply, as if in pain, and staggered backwards.
Baelfire caught him, holding him upright. "Papa? What in hell?"
"I'm all right, Bae," Rumple said, but there was uncertainty in his tone.
The dark magic surged up and tried to flow from the circle, seeking Rumplestiltskin, but it was repelled both by Vasilisa's magic and the aura of positive thoughts surrounding its quarry. Hissing, it coiled and withdrew, coming to swirl about the dagger once more.
Vasilisa closed her eyes and concentrated. The lines of protection upon the circle began to glow stridently and she stretched out her hands over the dagger and hissed, "Rumplestilskin, by the love of all you hold dear, I release you from the Dark One's curse! You are free!"
She chanted that refrain three times, and each time she did, she felt the tendrils of darkness surrounding the blade grow less.
As she peered at it, she saw her brother's name become fainter and fainter.
When it had disappeared entirely from the blade, she made a quick snapping motion with her hands.
The dagger quivered harder now, and suddenly it rose into the air, glowing a sickly green color, like poisonous green slime.
Vasilisa held her hands out, knowing that with Rumplestiltskin's name gone from the dagger, it would try and claim a new master, to steal a new soul to corrupt. But thanks to her circle, it could only seek one person.
Herself.
Green and black tentacles of dark magic curled about the blade, hissing and hungry.
Then it darted forward . . . and stabbed Vasilisa in the shoulder.
"NO!" Baelfire and Rumple screamed at the same time, but they were helpless to prevent what happened next.
As soon as the dagger penetrated her flesh, Vasilisa could feel the evil seeking her soul, struggling to grab onto it and feed.
She threw back her head, her back arching in a single spasm of agony.
The dark magic wrapped about her, clasping her in an unholy embrace.
She felt the poison of the curse enter her, and pain slammed into her, a pain like nothing she had ever known . . . but even as she thought it, she knew it was wrong.
She had endured such pain before . . . at Baba Yaga's hand . . . over and over . . .
The drawing of five heartbeats. I must dance with death and clasp it to me.
She could feel coldness in her now, as the dagger sought to steal all her warmth and leave her dark and cold, bereft. Despair suddenly swamped her.
Her head fell forward, her hair falling across the dagger sticking obscenely from her chest and she breathed in harsh gasps, trying to contain the pain and focus upon the curse within her.
Outside the circle, Bae was struggling with Rumple, who was fighting to get away from his son.
"Papa, stop! You can't break the circle!"
"Let me go, damn you!" he shrieked, his eyes wide with horror. "It's killing her don't you see that? Rhea! Baelfire, let me go!"
Bae had his arms locked in a death grip around Rumple, knowing he couldn't afford to let the other man break free. Vasilisa's words rang in his head. No matter what you see . . . don't break the circle.
Rumple fought to break his son's grip, but Bae was too strong, especially when he had half-lifted Rumple off the ground. "Bae! Let go! It's killing her, damn it! I'm killing her!" he clawed uselessly at Bae's muscular arms, his eyes fixed upon his baby sister, tears of remorse and terror streaming down his face.
"Papa, please! You have to stay here!" Bae said, dragging the older man a few feet backwards. "She said not to break the circle!"
"I don't care! Rhea! Don't! Don't!"
But Vasilisa could not hear his desperate pleas. A red mist obscured her vision as pain blossomed all through her and the dagger sang an insidious hymn calling to the darkness that lived in her soul to come forth, to join it, and find power beyond her wildest dreams.
To become the new Dark One.
For the drawing of three breaths, she considered what the dagger whispered to her.
Then she shook her head. Once. Twice. Thrice.
No. NO. NO!
She drew another breath. Fire seared her lungs. Her head spun dizzily. But somehow she remained upon her feet. Almost time. Almost.
She sucked in another breath.
Her hands closed about the dagger's hilt.
Then she ripped it from her shoulder, and shrieked in agony, throwing her head back.
Black and green tentacles sprouted from the hole in her shoulder.
She ignored them, calling upon her own innate magic.
"Dark One, I See you true! Dark One, I reject you! Dark One, I banish you! By earth, air, water, fire, and all the elements, I break the power of your binding!"
Bae stared in astonishment as the woman before him began to glow with an icy bright blue light. It spread from her fingertips down her arms and all across her body, until she glowed like a star gone nova.
It drove the tentacles of darkness from her body, and the hole in her shoulder healed, and she held the dagger in her hands above her head.
Icy white and blue tendrils crept about the obsidian knife, smothering the dark magic.
"By the power of true love, I shatter this curse!"
And the dagger exploded into a million dark shards.
Bae turned his head away as Vasilisa's aura flared violently.
Rumple sagged against his son's chest like a broken doll, shutting his eyes.
When they opened them again, the workroom was drenched in a peaceful twilight, as the circle of protection faded, leaving only a slight amber glow on the floor.
Within the circle, Vasilisa lay on the floor, her pale hair glittering like spilled gold across the stones, a comet fallen from the heavens.
Bae relaxed his grip, and Rumple jerked from his arms, crawling rapidly across the floor to grab the stricken enchantress from the floor, cradling her in his arms.
"Rhea! Don't leave me! Come back! Rhea! Come back!" he pleaded, his voice gone hoarse, his slender frame wracked with sobs. His sister lay unmoving in his arms.
Bae stared at them in disbelief, his heart thundering in his chest. Surely she couldn't be . . . dead.
Rumple clutched her to him, half-shaking her in his desperation. "Rhea!" She lay limply in his embrace, like a doll tossed away by a careless child. Her skin was cold, as if shattering the dagger had stolen what was left of warmth in her body. "Rhea! I . . . won't . . . lose you again!" he snarled, and then he pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her.
Suddenly a rosy flush tinted her waxen cheeks.
Her chest heaved, she gasped for air.
Then she opened her eyes.
"Rumple . . . I'm back."
"Rhea!" he cried in relief, then he hugged her to him, growling, "You damn stubborn idiot! Don't ever scare me like that again. Or else I'm killing you!"
"I love you too, big brother," she whispered, her lips curving into a faint smile. Then she collapsed against him in a dead faint, mission accomplished.