37

Seventh Daughter

When Peter brought the tiny unicorn into the castle, there was only a single lantern left burning in the kitchen window, and the stove with its coal fire was banked for the night. Everyone was sleeping, everyone save for Rumplestiltskin, who always waited up for their return during lambing season, just in case there was trouble and Bae blew his horn.

Rumple was dozing in his chair, half-awake, when Peter came in the back door, quickly wiping his feet on the mat Belle had put out, and then walking past the small washstand with the unicorn still over his shoulders.

"Papa, look at this!" he whispered.

Rumple woke up immediately, blinked the sleep from his eyes, and said, "What've you got there, Pete? A lamb?"

"No, she's a foal. A unicorn foal!"

Rumple stood and came to examine the newborn foal, who had a fuzzy mane and tail and a horn that was just a stub, plus long ears and a delicate muzzle. Her eyes were fringed with long lashes, almost like a camel's, and they were a brilliant blue, like the sky at midday. Her coat had a pearlescent sheen to it, but was soft as silk.

"Hey there, little one," the sorcerer crooned to the foal, who nuzzled his hand and lipped his fingers curiously. "Now where did you come from, huh?" He gently stroked the little filly, and her horn glowed a faint blue in response.

"We found her, Papa," Peter informed him. "Her dam had been killed by a mountain cat, I tried to save her, but the cat was too fast and it got to her before I could drive it off. Bae and I found her mom lying there, dead. She came over and Bae told me to take her back to the castle and feed her. Can I keep her?"

"Well, we certainly can't let her starve, now can we?" Rumple said. "Let me get a bottle, like we use to feed the twin lambs sometimes."

He summoned one of the bottles with a rubber nipple that they sometimes used to feed a lamb who had been rejected by its mother, which happened on occasion, and filled it with goat's milk mixed with a small amount of water and honey. Then he heated it with his magic until it was just warmed.

"You're good at that," Peter observed.

"I've fed a few orphaned lambs in my time, plus Bae, Ivy, and Clary," his father replied. "There's not too much difference between a human baby and an animal one when you get right down to it." He went and sat down in the chair he'd vacated and said, "Give her to me, Pete. Let's see if she won't take some of this. I'll bet she hardly had time to nurse before her mother tried to lead that cat away."

Peter put the unicorn in Rumple's lap.

The little filly snorted and shook her head, her long ears bobbing up and down.

"Ah ah, now quit squirming," Rumple ordered softly. He held the baby carefully with one arm, and squeezed the bottle until some drops of milk came out of it and onto his fingers. "Here, sweetheart, try this." He held his fingers, dripping with milk, out to the foal.

The foal blew on them, then sniffed and nuzzled, finally licking them and then shaking her head. She gave a soft whinny.

"I think she likes it," Peter said, grinning.

"Sure she does. That's good stuff, right, baby?" Rumple asked, and let the foal suck his fingers. "Hey, now don't bite me!" he said.

"She's got teeth?"

"Small ones, but they'll pinch," Rumple replied. He gently withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the nipple. "Come on, pretty thing, suck this! That's it!" he said enthusiastically as the foal began to drink.

"Rum? Who are you talking to?" Belle queried sleepily, coming into the kitchen. She was wearing fuzzy slippers and a blue nightgown with a velvet robe over it. For one horrified moment, she feared he was entertaining a lady, with how he was talking, and her stomach nearly flipped over, recalling Gaston and her maid-of-honor Jeanette. Suck on what? Oh, hells!

Then she saw her husband sitting with a baby unicorn in his lap, and the little thing was sucking upon a bottle he held and she chided herself for her stupidity. Of course Rum would never do what Gaston had done to her. "Oh, my goodness! Where did you get a foal?" she asked.

"Hello, dearie! She came in with Pete from the pasture," Rumple said, as the foal bobbed her head and the bottle slipped from her mouth. Milk splattered all over the unicorn and Rumple. "Hey, now I don't need a bath!" the sorcerer cried.

Peter and Belle giggled at the sight of the usually composed sorcerer covered with milk droplets and the unicorn poked him in the chin, whinnying.

"Feed her, Rum!" Belle said, laughing. "She wants more."

"I'm trying!" the sorcerer said, bringing the bottle back towards the baby's questing mouth. "Here, sweetheart, it's right here."

Finally the foal latched onto the nipple again and began to suck greedily.

Belle came and petted the tiny head gently. "Oh, she's darling! Feel how soft her coat is! Like watered silk. And look at the tiny little hooves!" She picked one up, it fit in her hand, and was silvery colored.

Rumple grunted as one of the tiny little hooves poked him in the stomach as the foal extended her head to drink the milk more quickly. "Easy there! Otherwise I'm going to be black and blue before you've finished this, pretty girl." He looked at his wife. "Belle, would you mind . . . err . . . moving her so she's not digging her hind legs into me? She's getting close to a certain part of me that I don't think you want her to damage."

Belle gently lifted the unicorn, wrapping the blanket more securely about her small frame and settling her on her side on Rum's lap, so her hooves weren't poking him in sensitive places. "There, love. Aww, you look so darned . . . cute!"

Rumple smirked. "Which one of us are you talking about?"

"Both of you. She's adorable . . . and so are you, even if you do have milk on your nose," Belle teased, and gently wiped off the milk with her finger. "Where did you find her, Pete?"

So Peter recounted the whole tale again while the foal nursed, drinking the whole bottle and then looking about for more, while mouthing Rum's shirt.

"Nothing there, dearie. Sorry," he told the little unicorn.

"Here. Let me get some more," Belle said. She prepared a second bottle under her husband's direction, then gave it to the little foal, laughing softly as the unicorn sucked it down. "Oh, she's precious, Rum! Just look at her ears, all floppy!"

"She'll grow into them," Rum said, holding her steady while she nursed. Some milk dripped from her tiny mouth down his pant leg, but he just shrugged. Feeding an orphaned animal was sometimes a messy business, just like feeding a human one.

Abruptly, the foal sneezed, and milk splattered all over Belle and Rumple.

Peter started laughing at the foal's startled expression and the fact that his parents were now covered in milk, and looked like refugees.

"What are you laughing at, boy?" Belle demanded, wiping her eyes.

Just then Bae and Rennie came in, took one look at their parents, and started howling with laughter.

"Baelfire, really!" Rumple scolded.

"It's not funny, Serenity," Belle said, trying to wipe milk off her cheek.

"No, Mom, it's not funny," Serenity said, smothering a giggle. "It's hilarious!"

"And we were worried they might not take to her," Bae snickered. "I don't know why!"

"Okay, now you've had your fun, children," Rumple began. "Get us a towel."

Bae went over and snagged one of Ivy's dishcloths from the counter. He handed it to Rumple, who quickly wiped his face, then gave it to Belle, who scrubbed hers and part of her chest before flicking the end of it at her still-sniggering son's behind.

"Hey!" Bae yelped.

"Hay is for horses, you wretch!" Belle mock-scolded. "Speaking of which, this little one's going to need some to sleep in."

"I'll get some, Mom!" said Peter, and he ran out to the barn.

"Can I feed her now?" asked Rennie.

"Be my guest," Belle said, handing her the bottle. "Now I need to get changed."

Rumple wriggled his fingers at her, and her robe and nightgown were suddenly dry again.

"Thanks, Rum," Belle said gratefully. She patted him dry with the dishcloth while Rennie fed the bottle to the little unicorn, who was growing sleepy.

Peter returned with the hay and Bae helped put it on the floor beside the stove. "She'll be warm enough here with a blanket tonight," he said. "I can build her a box tomorrow."

The foal's ears drooped as she grew full and quit sucking.

Rennie pulled the bottle away, saying, "I think she's full now. Aww, she's sleepy!"

"Better put her to bed then," her father said, and Rennie took the foal and placed her on the hay, covering her with the blanket.

The unicorn sighed and curled up in the clean straw, put her head on her front hooves and closed her eyes, falling asleep in moments.

The five of them looked at their new addition for a few moments, until Belle said, "All right, now let's go off to bed. It's almost two o'clock in the morning."

"What are we going to name her?" Peter wondered.

"We can discuss that tomorrow," Rumple said. "Up to bed with you, lad!" He gently took his son by the shoulders and turned him about, sending him out of the kitchen with a gentle tap on the bottom.

The rest of them soon followed, leaving their new guest sleeping soundly on the straw, safe and sound, despite her shaky start in life.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The next morning, everyone made much of their new pet, and the conversation at breakfast revolved around what to name the newest addition to the Gold family. The discussion began to grow a little too heated, so Rumple declared there was only one way to solve the issue—everyone would write down a name for the unicorn and he would put it in a hat and pick one out of it. Whatever name he picked would be the unicorn's.

So they all thought and wrote down a name, even Myrnin. Clary tugged on Belle's sleeve. "Mama, I need help," she said. "I can't write the name I want. I don't know how to spell it."

"All right, Clary, honey. You tell me the name you want and I'll write it for you on the paper," Belle said, then she leaned over so Clary could whisper it in her ear.

Nick rolled his eyes. "I hope it's not something dumb."

Clary glared at him. "My name's not dumb, Nick'las!"

"Nick, be nice!" Belle scolded, writing down Clary's choice on the slip of paper.

After about half an hour, Rumple gathered all the names and put them in one of his hats. He stirred them with his hand. Then he set the hat down on the table and waited.

"Papa, what are you doing?" asked Elaina.

"Just waiting, dearie."

"Why?" asked Tom.

Rumple just shrugged.

He waited almost five minutes before the children began to groan, "Papa, please! Pick one!"

"All right, don't get impatient," he said, then reached inside the hat and withdrew a slip of paper.

All the children waited, hardly daring to breathe as Rumple unfolded the paper and announced, "And the name of our newest member is . . .Sweetheart."

Some of the boys, especially Nick, groaned at that.

But Clary jumped up and down, squealing, "You picked mine! And we can call her Sweetie for short!"

"Figures!" Nick muttered. "I wanted Moon Racer and instead we get some stupid—"

"Nicholas!" Belle snapped. "Not another word, or else you can scrub the kitchen floor all by yourself. Fair's fair, and you all had an even chance of getting the name you put in picked. Now stop scowling or else your face will freeze that way."

"Well, I like it," Nora declared.

"You would!" her twin groused.

"I think it's cute," said June.

"It's too girly," Nick muttered.

"She is a girl!" Clary snapped. "So there!"

"That's true," Myrnin chuckled. "You can't argue with that."

Peter nodded. "Besides, Papa called her that last night, when he fed her the first time, so it fits."

"And she really is sweet," Rennie added.

"Just like sugar," Jasmine sang. "And I'd better talk to Rajah and Rowen and make sure they don't scare her. Baron too."

"Whose turn is it to feed her?" asked Tom.

"Mine," said Peter.

"We'll make up a schedule," Rumple said, forestalling any more arguing. "You can all have a turn. She'll need to eat every few hours. I'll put it up on the wall in the kitchen."

"What are you feeding her?" asked Myrnin.

Rumple told him, and the half-elf said, "You might want to add some rosewater and lavender essence to that. Unicorns love to eat flowers, there's something in there that provides them with nutrients. At least that's what my tutor Mistress Glistenheart told me."

"Thank you, Myrnin," Rumple said quietly. "Belle, do you have any of that on hand?"

"I have rosewater and some distilled lavender essence," his wife replied. "How much do we put in?"

"Umm . . . a few drops of each, I think," said Myrnin.

"We should mix up some batches of milk and flowers to have on hand," Rennie said practically.

"I can do that," Ivy said. "I'll use my magic to blend it well."

"And I'll build her a box she can stay in," Bae said.

"Can I help?" asked Phillip.

"Me too!" said Nick.

"And me," said Jack.

"You can all help," Bae said. "You bring me some wood, Jack. And you bring me some nails, Nick. Phil, you get the hammer."

As the little boys scattered, Rafe said, "That was slick, Bae. Getting them all to cooperate like that."

"Well, I learned that trick from Papa," Bae said modestly.

"What can I get, Bae?" Clary asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Uh . . . you can get me . . . my ruler, I'll need it to measure," her brother said. "It's in my room, on my desk."

Clary scurried from the room.

Soon all the boys and Clary returned with the requested items, and Bae began building the box.

Nick, Jack, and Phillip all sat around, watching Bae.

Myrnin and Ivy went off to have more language lessons in the study, while Jasmine, Kristen, and Rafe brought their pets into the kitchen to introduce them to Sweetheart while Peter fed her. Tom went off to find Puss and hunt down some mice that have gotten into the pantry. June and Nora helped Belle and Aurora with the dishes, and Ariel accompanied Finn to feed the chickens and gather more clean straw for Sweetie's bed. Elaina went upstairs to rearrange her hair into a new style while Rennie made a batch of formula.

Clary ran up to her room and brought down her ivory hairbrush and a pink ribbon. She ran over to Rumple and said, "I'm gonna brush Sweetie when they're all done with her. And put this in her hair."

"I'm sure she'll like that, dearie. But for now, let me fix your hair, it looks like a bird's nest," her father said.

Clary climbed up on his knee, she was used to him doing this.

Rumple calmly brushed his little girl's red-gold hair, making it shine like a new penny. He carefully tied it back with the pink ribbon into a small bow, and said, "You can get a new one for Sweetie, this one was too small."

Clary turned to look at him, and asked, "Do you think Sweetheart's a good name for our unicorn, Papa?"

"I think it's a lovely name, Clary. It fits her, because she has a gentle nature. The boys will get used to it in time and stop being grouchy brats about it."

Clary leaned her head on his chest and said, "I knew it wasn't a stupid name."

"Of course not. There's not a stupid bone in your body, Clary Gold. You're as bright as a brass button, dearie." Then he tweaked her nose, making her giggle.

"I'm gonna get my pencils and draw a picture," his daughter told him, and scrambled down from his lap.

"On paper, Clarissa," he reminded her.

"I know!" she yelled back.

Rumple watched as his youngest happily drew a rainbow and what was supposed to be a unicorn beneath it and some flowers. He loved all of his children, but the small imp sitting beside him claimed a large portion of his heart, and had since the day he had found her in a basket on the front doorstep, with a note tucked into her wrappings stating that she was the unwanted seventh daughter of the Earl of Myrtlewood and therefore suitable as an offering to the Dark One. He had been horrified and angry—at her father, not the beautiful baby with the midnight blue eyes and reddish curls. She had cried a little, but when he'd picked her up, she had looked straight into his eyes, and he lost his heart to her then and there.

Clary finished coloring in the picture, then she showed her father it, saying, "It's for you, Papa!"

"All for me? It's wonderful, Clary-belle. I'll put it in my study on the wall with your other ones." He had a wall behind his desk where he pinned artwork his children had made, and a good deal of those pictures were from Clary, who loved to draw as well as play tea party.

"Now I'm gonna draw one for Mama," the little girl declared, and began to color in a big red heart on the paper.

After she had finished Belle's picture, Clary decided it was time to go brush Sweetheart, and she went into the kitchen, where the baby unicorn was lying and gently combed the little foal's mane. She giggled when Sweetie nuzzled her cheek and she stroked the little foal's head and the unicorn's horn lit up.

Peter recalled the foal's horn doing that last night when Rumple had touched her as well, and went into the dining room and asked his father, "Papa, what's it mean when the foal's horn lights up?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but a unicorn's horn is one of the most powerful magical items there is, so perhaps it lights when it senses a kindred spirit."

"But Clary has no magic."

"Right now she doesn't. Actually, she's too young for me to tell," Rumple explained. "She could have magic later on. But there's something else about Clary that you might not know, Pete. She's a seventh daughter. And the seventh children are often blessed with luck and good fortune, or so they say. Perhaps the foal senses that in her."

Peter looked thoughtful. "I guess. And it's lucky she ended up here with you instead of somewhere else."

"Very lucky. Her father was a poor excuse for a man, abandoning her that way, but at least here she's loved, and there are worse things than being the daughter of a former dark sorcerer."

"Yeah, like being Regina's daughter." Peter shuddered. "I feel sorry for Snow White."

"So do I. I can only imagine what that girl has to go through," Rumple said.

"What girl?" Belle asked.

"Snow," answered Rumple. "Peter was saying how he felt sorry for her, having to live with Regina."

Belle nodded. "Regina is, or so I imagine, a difficult woman to please, even without worrying about her magic. She's the kind who give all of us stepmothers a bad name."

Just then Elaina came in with a half-sewn jacket, and asked, "Mom, can you show me how to do that double whip stitch again? My seams aren't holding here."

Belle came and took the needle and thread from Elaina and began to demonstrate the stitch, and Peter slipped away outside to see the new lambs, while Rumple began making a schedule to feed Sweetheart.

While they were doing that, Clary came back into the dining room holding her brush, which was filled with soft white hairs, and there was unicorn hair clinging to her nightgown as well. "Papa, I brushed Sweetie!" she announced, holding the brush out for him to see.

Elaina and Belle looked up from their stitching, and Elaina cried in dismay, "Oh, Clary, you're a wreck! You have unicorn hair all over you and . . . did you really use your hairbrush on that foal? That's—"

"—perfectly fine, Elaina," Belle interrupted her tirade before she could work herself into a tizzy. "Your father can use the unicorn hair Clary collected in his potions, right, Rum?"

"Oh, yes." He turned and waved a hand at Clary and all the hair on her nightgown jumped off and rolled itself into a small ball, as did the hair on Clary's brush. "Thank you, dearie, for collecting it for me. Unicorn hair is excellent for making drafts of healing and renewal."

"And you have the hair and the horn of the mother as well," Bae reminded him as he came into the room for a cup of coffee.

"What mother?" Clary asked, perplexed.

"Uh . . . the one who . . .err . . . we buried this morning," Bae said reluctantly. Then he put a hand over his mouth and muttered, "Damn, why did I tell her that?"

Clary looked at him, her big blue eyes wide. "You mean . . . Sweetie's mom died?"

"Uh . . . well, yeah, but . . ." Bae stammered, trying to cover his slip.

Clary's face crumpled and she started to cry. "But why she'd die, Bae? I don't want the unicorn mom to die!"

"Aww, Clary! I'm sorry . . ." her brother began, and went to hug her, but the little girl pulled away and ran to Belle instead, burying her face in Belle's skirts.

Belle stroked her hair and patted her back, saying softly, "Don't cry, baby. Sometimes—" she tried to think up a way to explain circumstances and death to the four-year-old when Clary lifted her face up to look at her.

"Mama, can't you fix her? Sweetie's mom?"

Belle picked her up then and held her. "No, little one."

"But you're a Healer. Why not?"

"Because even a Healer can't fix death, Clary."

"But why?"

"Because everything dies sometime, Clary. And it's terribly sad, but that's the way it is," Belle told her softly, having asked this same question of her father as girl when she had tried to save an injured starling and it had died. "There's a time and a place for all things, a balance between life and death, and if nothing ever died, then nothing could live. The unicorn mother was hurt very badly, Clary, and in a lot of pain, and the gods in their mercy called her to them rather than making her suffer. And now she's in a better place, among the stars, and she watches over her baby from there."

"But now Sweetie has no mom," Clary objected.

"She has us, love. We'll take care of her now and love her like her mother would."

"Like you do to me?"

"Yes. Just like that," Belle said, hugging her.

The little girl was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she said, "Okay. I'm gonna take care of her and love her lots and lots."

"You do that, Clary," Belle smiled at her, and wiped her face with her handkerchief.

After a few moments, the child got down and ran into the kitchen, and Belle said to Rum, "I hope I did the right thing."

"You did great, dearie. Better than I would have."

"I should have kept my big mouth shut, then you wouldn't have had to tell her anything," Bae lamented.

"No, she had to learn about this sometime," Belle disagreed. "And better now from me than later from someone else."

Page~*~*~*~Break

Jack invited Ray over to see the unicorn, as he had never seen a real one either, only in storybooks. But when the two horse-crazy boys came into the kitchen to see Sweetheart, they almost fell over.

For there was Clary, sitting on the floor on one of the picnic blankets, with her tea set spread out in front of her and two of her dolls on one side. On the other side was Sweetheart, lying on her straw bed in the box Bae had made, wearing a large straw hat with flowers. The foal's ears were through the ear holes and had flopped over, and the hat's lavender ribbons were tied lopsidedly under her chin. A small cup of milk was in front of her, as well as a saucer with some sugar lumps on it.

Clary was holding a tea cup in one hand, and saying earnestly to the unicorn, " . . .and if you want more sugar, you say, "Please pass the sugar, Clary," and when I give you it, you say, "Thank you", 'cause it's polite. You gots to 'member that, Sweetie, 'cause polite girls get invited to more tea parties, and rude nasty ones stay home and sit in time out with nothing."

Ray goggled. "Uh, Jack? Is she . . . playing tea party with your unicorn? And trying to teach it manners?"

Jack groaned. "Clary, for gods' sake! Sweetie's a unicorn, not one of your dolls. And unicorns don't play tea party. Or say please and thank you, they're like horses."

"So?" his little sister said, looking at them. "Mama said she has no mother now, so I have to be her mom and that's what I'm doing. Hi, Ray! You wanna help?"

Ray started laughing. "Uh, can I pet her first?"

"Sure," Clary said.

"Clary, take that stupid hat off her," Jack objected. "Unicorns don't play dress up."

"She does, Jack! I had Jasmine ask her, and Sweetie told her she likes playing with me. So there!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother!"

Ray knelt and petted the unicorn, who sniffled at him curiously, making him smile. "She sure is cute. What's her name again?"

"Sweetheart," Jack said. "Clary picked it. I wanted Starlight, but Papa had us put all the names we'd chosen in a hat and then he picked one and that's what she's called."

"It could be worse. She could be called Lovey-dovey or something," Ray said, grinning.

"Ugh! Don't make me puke!" Jack gagged.

"Papa said Sweetheart's a good name for her," Clary stated. "So don't make fun of it, Jack!"

"I wasn't. C'mon, Ray. Let's go ride Steady, before Clary makes you play with her too."

Ray rose and after giving the unicorn one last pat, followed Jack out the back door. "Your little sister's funny," he said as they made their way to the stables. "I think I'd like to have a little sister."

"You would? Clary's okay sometimes. But most of the time she's a pain in my—"

He stopped abruptly as they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

Ray turned and said, "Oh, hi, Master Gold!"

"Hi, Papa. I was just taking Steady out so Ray could ride him." Jack said, flushing.

"Of course you were. Have fun. And Ray, if you do have a little sister, count yourself lucky. Right, Jack?" Rumple cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, sir," his son answered, then he grabbed his friend's hand and dragged him into the stables.

Rumple continued on into the castle, intending to get himself a snack before having lessons with June, Ariel, Finn, and Kristen. As he entered the kitchen, smiling at his youngest as she played with the unicorn, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it, Papa," Bae called, then muttered, "Who on earth is visiting us at this time of day?"

"Papa, do you want some tea?" Clary asked.

"No, thank you, dearie. I'm going to have some cider and a few of those cherry tarts that Rennie made," he told her. He had just started to eat one when Bae came back into the kitchen, looking shocked. "What's the matter, Bae? Who was at the door, some tinker trying to sell you cheap tin kettles?"

Bae shook his head, glanced at Clary, then said, "Papa, it's . . . she's . . . come with me into the sitting room, quick! I left her in the hall, but . . ."

"Baelfire, what on earth? You're acting like Regina's come to call."

Rumplestiltskin followed his son into the sitting room, where Belle was knitting a cap for the new baby. "Who was at the door, Rum?"

"Bae, tell us."

"It's . . . Lady Alessandra Denham of Myrtlewood. You know, Papa! She's Clary's . . .sister! From her birth family."

Rumple felt his heart seize. "Did she say what she wanted, Bae?"

Bae nodded. "She said she wants to see Clary."

"Why?" his father asked sharply. "They gave her up to me four years ago. I'm not giving her back to them, those damned cold-hearted buzzards. They'll take her over my dead body!" He was so agitated that flickers of purple magic danced about his fingers.

"Rum, calm down!" Belle said, laying a hand on his arm.

"I ought to throw her damn noble ass right out of my castle!" he said furiously. "How dare she come here now?"

Bae stared at Rumple in shock. He'd never seen his father totally lose it before, except when under the dagger's influence, and watching his usually composed parent suddenly become a raging beast was an unpleasant surprise.

"Rumplestiltskin!" Belle snapped, grabbing his arm before he could rush out of the room and do something to their unexpected guest he'd regret. "You're getting all bent out of shape and you don't even know why she's come here."

"I don't care why she's come here, Belle. I just want her gone."

"Rumple, let me talk to her. You're so out of control right now you might set her on fire by accident," Belle said quickly. "You stay here and . . . and calm down before you give yourself a stroke." She pushed him down onto the settle. "And nobody's taking Clary away, darling. I'll settle this. Now just breathe, Rum."

She left, the skirts of her yellow day dress swishing softly as she exited the sitting room, her head erect, her bearing elegant and poised, as she had been as princess of Avonlea.

Her husband stared after her, his eyes glinting, then he sighed heavily and began doing some of his meditation exercises, bringing his magic back under control. He had to trust Belle. She would never let anything happen to the children.

"Papa, she can't take Clary from us, right? Not after so long and you've adopted her," Bae said softly, his dark eyes worried.

"No. And if they try, I'll send then running out of here on four legs, squealing like a stuck pig," Rumple said fiercely. "She's my daughter now. Mine."

Page~*~*~*~Break

Lady Alessandra looked to be a little older than Baelfire, Belle observed as she came towards her. She resembled Clary a little with the same dark blue eyes and hair that was more blond than red. She had on a lovely blue gown, such as one would wear to an afternoon tea, with white kid gloves that came up to her elbows, and small high-topped kid boots with tiny jewels on them. Small pearl earrings and a matching choker completed her ensemble, but despite her outward signs of wealth, she seemed rather ill-at-ease and nervous.

"Hello. I'm Lady Belle Gold, wife of Rumplestiltskin," Belle greeted her.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Alessandra said, giving her a curtsey. "I'm Lady Alessandra Denham, daughter of the Earl of Myrtlewood. I apologize for my coming here unannounced, I should have sent my card around, but . . . you see . . . no one knows I'm here, Lady Gold. If my father knew . . . he'd be furious, as would my fiancée. We . . . Father said we're never to discuss . . . what he did, that we're supposed to forget . . . it ever happened. He . . . he won't even admit what he did was wrong . . . he . . . had it put out that the baby died . . . only . . . we all know it's not true."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because . . . I can't stop thinking about it. My mother died bringing her into the world, Lady Gold, she only held her for a minute or two before she passed on, but I . . . I named her, Clarissa, after Mama, and I would have kept her, but Father went mad and he . . . he said she was a . . . monster, that she killed Mama, even though she was never very strong, not after so many years of bearing daughters and two stillborn sons. We were all sick with grief from Mama dying and he bade us leave the baby with the wet nurse and stay in our rooms. I was exhausted and I fell asleep . . . when I woke, the baby was gone, he'd taken her away to give as an offering to the Dark One . . . and he said her name was never again to be mentioned in this house . . . that we were to tell anyone who asked that our sister died with our mother. . .and for four years I obeyed, like a dutiful daughter, but I never stopped wondering what happened to her . . ." Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Lady, I know I have no right . . . not after what Father did . . . but this was the only chance I had . . . Father and Bernard are away in the king's city, and I thought I would just come and see . . . if she was all right . . . and not . . . not . . ."

"Not some slave to the Dark One, you mean?" Rumple said accusingly. "Not turned into a statue or some twisted half-creature."

Alessandra shrank away, clutching her small reticule in front of her like a shield. "My lord . . . forgive me . . . I didn't mean to intrude . . ."

"Rumple!" Belle said warningly.

"Oh no, dearie. Since you're here now, you may as well see for yourself . . . how the baby you dumped on my doorstep is treated by the infamous Dark One," Rumple sneered. "Come and see for yourself, Countess." He bowed mockingly, every line in his body rigid, and gestured for her to follow him.

Alessandra trembled, then she seemed to gather her courage, and walked across the foyer to stand next to him. "My lord, you have every reason to hate me and my family . . ."

"Quite," Rumple said bitingly.

"But it was Father's idea to give her to you . . . never mine . . . I would have kept her always . . ."

"Oh? And what sort of life would that have been, with a father who despised her?" Rumple demanded.

Alessandra colored faintly. "You're right . . . it would have been dreadful . . . and I've often thought . . . maybe she was better off with you, so long as you . . . weren't . . . using her in some magical experiment . . . I mean . . ."

"Come and see for yourself, Countess, how I've treated your lost sister these past four years," Rumplestilskin said, his voice harsh though still soft.

He led her into the kitchen, where Clary still sat on the floor, surrounded by her toys, one arm about Sweetheart, her red-gold head leaning against the foal's shoulder, eating a cherry tart and giggling as the foal lipped at her nightgown, where some of it had dripped.

Alessandra stared at her, her eyes wide, one hand going to her mouth. "Oh! She looks . . . just like Mama. So very like . . ." Two tears slipped down her cheeks as she watched Clary hugging the unicorn. "Father would never . . . is that a unicorn foal?"

"It is," Rumple said. "This is a magician's home, dearie, of course I'd have a magical pet or two around the place."

His sarcasm was lost on the young countess, but Belle elbowed him and hissed, "Rumple, stop it!"

Alessandra continued watching the little girl and the unicorn for a few more minutes before drawing away, returning to the foyer. Rumplestiltskin and Belle followed.

"Satisfied now, dearie?" Rumple queried sarcastically. "I don't have her sweeping the floor or cutting off her fingers to stick in my cauldron or beating her with whips. Not what you expected at all, is it? It alleviates some of the guilt, no?"

"Rumplestiltskin, for gods' sake!" Belle reproved. "Stop taking out your temper on this poor girl. The one you should be angry with is her father."

"No, he is right, my lady," Alessandra said quickly. "We've always heard stories . . . and never bothered to find out the truth . . . until now. I misjudged him, but now I see . . . Clarissa has a good home here, much better than any I could give her, especially with my father being the way he is . . . that's all I wished to know, that she was safe and happy . . ."

"Then you don't wish to take her with you?" asked Rumple, a little mollified by her sincere apology. "To rescue her from the Dark One?"

"No, archmagus Gold," Alessandra said quietly. "And if you're a dark sorcerer, then I'm an evil witch with warts. I can see quite plainly that you . . . love her the way my father never could have. Something died in him that day and he has never been the same . . . to so despise his own child . . . I suppose we were lucky that he didn't do worse than leave her with you . . . but then, you know the legend of the seventh daughter, if anyone would . . ."

"Seven is magic, as any fool can see,

And to a seventh daughter shall be given powers three,

Luck, insight, and a healing touch,

Thrice blessed for all her life,

Even when she becomes a wife," Rumple recited. "Yes, I know the legend. Pity your father never thought about it. Then again, his loss is my gain."

"Is the legend true then?" Belle asked.

Rumple shrugged. "It may be. Only time will tell. But I didn't take her in because of that, Lady Alessandra. Most legends have only a grain of truth to them, as any sorcerer worth his salt knows. I took her because she was an unwanted orphan, or as good as, and I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her."

"I know," Alessandra said. "I can see that now, and I'm glad . . . for she deserves better than what my father would have given her, which is nothing save coldness and disapproval for something that wasn't her fault. Thank you for letting me see her . . . that's all I wanted." She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Perhaps I've been a bit too harsh, Lady Denham," Rumple said then. "You could stay for tea . . . maybe even talk to Clary if you'd like?"

Alessandra shook her head rapidly. "Oh no, please, that would be too awkward. She's not . . . my family anymore. I don't want to get her confused or . . . or anything. She's your daughter, Archmagus Gold, and that's the way it should be. I just . . . I'm getting married in a week and moving away to my husband's kingdom in Briony, and I only wanted to see her one last time. She's happy, safe, and loved. That's enough for me. Now I can marry and be at peace, knowing Clarissa has a good home and family. It's what my mother would have wanted."

"If you're sure?" Rumplestiltskin eyed her thoughtfully.

"I am, sir. It's better this way. She's where she's meant to be. A seventh daughter for a sorcerer, who will love her best of all. She is truly blessed to have you, sir."

"No, it is we who are blessed to have her," Belle corrected.

Alessandra smiled. "Thank you, Lord and Lady Gold. And now, I must be going, before I'm missed. Farewell!" She turned and walked quickly out the door, holding her plumed hat on her head, and mounted her horse. She glanced back only once, and waved, saying softly, "Farewell, little sister! And may you be blessed thrice all your life."

Then she rode away, racing down the hill and away down the track past the village, never to be seen again.

"Is she gone?" asked Bae, coming over to stand beside his parents in the doorway. He was wearing his sword.

Belle glanced at him. "Why are you wearing that, Bae? Oh, for gods' sake! You and your father are so alike. You act like that girl was some invader coming to storm the castle."

"I'm not going to let anyone take my baby sister," Bae said, his chin jutting out stubbornly. "I don't care who she is."

Rumple patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Bae. She wasn't going to take Clary. Clary's a Gold, and a Gold she'll stay."

"Then what did she want?"

"She wanted . . . a glimpse of her past . . . of what could have been . . . and that's all," Belle answered.

Bae heaved a sigh of relief. "Good, because I was about to kick her out of the castle myself if she tried anything."

"Baelfire! You're your father's son all right," Belle said.

Rumplestiltskin chuckled as they closed the doors and locked them. "Let's have some lunch, Belle. I think my appetite's returned now." He walked into the kitchen and saw his youngest had fallen asleep on the hay with the foal.

He gently picked her up and hugged her to him.

Belle saw and said, "We should put her upstairs for a nap," and she came over to brush the curls from her sleeping daughter's forehead.

"Not yet. I just . . . want to hold her for awhile," Rumple said, and he sat down on a chair with a sleeping Clary cradled in his arms. The sudden appearance of Clary's blood sister had scared him badly, and he needed time to get over the shock, and so he did nothing save hold his baby girl for fifteen minutes, until Belle told him lunch was ready.

Only then did he carry his sleeping daughter upstairs and tuck her into bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before he left. "Sweet dreams, my little princess." Then he set a silent ward upon her room, because even though he was reasonably sure he'd never see any of the Denham's again, he was taking no chances. Clary was a Gold daughter, and a Gold she'd stay, forever.

A/N: So how did everyone like that? Wasn't the scene with Belle, Rum, and the little unicorn funny? And how did you like Clary and Sweetie together?