49

Maurice's Decision

While Killian and Milah were being hosted by Gaston and Cora, who after the success of her little love potion, decided to play lady of the manor alongside her paramour, down in a tavern called The Hart and Hound, a man wearing a plain buff colored tunic and linen shirt and nondescript brown breeches and worn boots sat before the fire, quaffing a tankard of ale. He was a man of ordinary height and appearance, with straight blond hair and blue eyes, unremarkable, like many a country born soul in those parts. He said little and just sipped his ale, occasionally munching on a handful of seasoned pretzel nuggets and listening to the talk flowing around him.

The man was sometimes known as Gabriel, and other times the Chameleon, so named because of his ability to blend into the background and go virtually unnoticed by others. He was Maurice's top agent, and he was in the village of Lyonesse to observe and report back to the king on the state of the villagers, Gaston, his steward LaFue, and the servants in the manor house. He was to note any unusual comings and goings to the manor and listen to gossip, for Maurice wished to know the timbre of the man who would be king . . . and who was courting his daughter.

The agent had found Lyonesse a cauldron bubbling over of discontent and upset, for the steward and the lord abused their positions and treated their people like objects, lower than worms in some cases . . . especially if they were women. He learned of Gaston's outrageous sexual appetites, and that LaFue procured women for him, sometimes willingly, but usually not. And now . . . now there were some new guests up at the manor . . . a freebooter and his first mate, plus a young lady from Avonlea City.

The Chameleon tapped his knee thoughtfully and figured his next report, written in magical invisible ink, would reveal at last to the king the truth about Gaston of Lyonesse. And then, if the Powers wish it, the devil shall get his due, the agent thought, hiding a wolfish smirk in his tankard.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Lyonesse:

Gaston and his new guests woke up late the next morning, having spent the night drinking and carousing. The knight had happily romped in bed with Cora and drunkenly out of it with Milah, and Jones had done likewise, since they were all roaring drunk by that time and the women were saucy and willing. Gaston woke with Cora's hand thrown over his chest, curled sleepily about him.

He yawned and stretched, then reached over and whacked her derriere. "Up, my saucy wench! 'Tis time to greet the day!"

Cora opened her eyes and half-sat up. "You have somewhere to be, Gaston?"

"No. But don't you want some breakfast? My cook makes great eggs with ham and cream sauce on toasted bread, and crispy potatoes and griddle cakes with strawberry syrup," he purred.

"Hmm. Sounds divine. I don't think I've ever had that before," she smirked, then threw off the sheet and stood up.

Ten minutes later, they were both downstairs, nursing their headaches with another fingerswidth of claret and bidding Milah and Killian good morning as well.

The two pirates looked none the worse for wear, and happily drank some more rum with their breakfast, which they pronounced as first rate.

"You know, old boy, I've heard rumors lately about a sorcerer who can spin straw into gold," Jones mused as he sopped up his yolk with some more bread. "You know anything about that?"

Gaston almost choked on his griddle cake. "Know him? The bloody bastard's been a pain in my ass since he arrived here!" he snarled. "He's a spinner who can spin straw into gold and now he's on the king's council and apprentice to the Royal Magician and he's got the ear of the king and the eye of the princess to boot!"

"Does he have a name, this sorcerer?" asked Milah curiously.

"Yes. A ridiculous one. His name's Rumplestiltskin, but he goes by Councilor Gold now," snorted the knight.

"And he's a Guild master besides," Cora sneered.

Milah gaped at him. "No! It can't be! Killian, do you think—?"

"How many people do you know named that, love?" asked the pirate wolfishly.

"You know him then?" asked Gaston abruptly.

"Know him? He used to be my husband!" Milah growled. "And a more useless milksop coward there never was!"

"Coward?" Gaston's ears perked up. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you know?" laughed Milah. "Let me enlighten you, Gaston. Rumple was drafted into the army and went off to fight in the First Ogre War . . ."

Gaston listened with glee, thinking now he finally had something to tell the king about his glorious Councilor Gold.

Page~*~*~*~*Break

The Chameleon rose early that morning and summoned one of the crown's ravens with a special whistle. The birds were trained to carry messages back and forth and he used one now to deliver his message to King Maurice.

As the black avian winged its way across the sky, the agent smiled to himself and prepared to get his horse and follow the knight and his companions on their hunt that day, and see what else he could overhear.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Rumple's cottage:

"Papa, can Tyr come over to play?" Bae asked his father while eating breakfast. Today Linnea had made scrambled eggs with cheese and ham and some pears cut up on the side along with some fresh bread with butter. Both children had goat's milk to drink, since the household had acquired a small nanny goat from a farmer who had come into the city to sell his produce, eggs, and livestock. The goat's name was Buttercup, she was a gentle brown and white animal, and Rumple had taught both Bae and Val how to milk her that morning, so Linnea didn't have to do that chore herself.

Rumple looked up from eating, and replied, "Yes, he may, but first you need to pick up your room. It's a mess."

"Aww, but Papa!" the little boy groaned.

"Don't you but Papa me, Baelfire. It's chores before playtime, you know that," Rumple reminded him.

Bae bit his lip. Chores were boring! "But Papa, Linnea cleans the house, so how come she don't just clean my room?"

Rumple frowned at his son. "Linnea is not your servant, young man," he reprimanded sternly. "She does certain tasks in this house and that's all. It's your job to clean up after yourself, Baelfire. You made the mess, now you pick it up. Or else no friends come over. Clear?"

The little boy quickly nodded and muttered, "Yes, sir." He had known better than to think that, but it had been worth a try, anyhow.

Beside him, Val suddenly swallowed a bit of milk the wrong way and began coughing violently into her napkin.

"Val, are you okay?" Rumple asked, alarmed when the girl didn't stop after a few moments. Concerned, he got up and went over to her. "Dearie, what happened?"

He patted her back.

Val couldn't answer him as her whole diaphragm was going into spasms.

"Papa! She's choking!" Bae gasped, his eyes wide.

"Master R-Rumple!" Linnea cried, standing beside the stove with a dishtowel hanging from her hand.

A panicked Rumple put his hand on her back and called upon his magic to heal her, fearing his son was correct. As soon as the purple and gold mist washed over her, Val relaxed, able to breathe normally again.

Val blinked tears from her eyes and said, "Papa, I swallowed some milk wrong and I couldn't stop coughing."

Rumple sighed in relief. "Next time, dearie, take small sips. You don't have to be in a rush to eat. You okay now?"

Val nodded. "Uh huh," then she realized something. "Papa, you healed me! With magic."

"I did, didn't I?" Rumple said in wonder. "That's the first time I've ever healed someone like that." He gazed down at his slender hands in quiet amazement. Then he went and sat back down to finish eating.

Linnea relaxed too now that the crisis was over and went back to washing the pans she had used to cook with. She smiled and thought how lucky she was to work for a man like Rumple, who didn't have an arrogant or abusive bone in his entire body, and didn't think his rank put him above anyone else. She had grown up in the shadow of the palace and had seen many a commoner raised to a high position who let the power go to their head and begin treating those under them like objects, forgetting their own humble origins. Rumplestiltskin, like Gwydion, was one of those rare individuals who was humble and who cared more for people than power.

It still amazed her that Gwydion actually cared for her, maybe even loved her, when he was like the moon, soaring far above her, and she was just a maid, ordinary as the earth beneath her feet. She also had the feeling that Belle cared for Rumple that same way, and it boggled her mind that two of the most powerful people in Avonlea felt so deeply towards people who were not of their station. For so many in their society, position was all, and you married to secure it or to gain it, but once gotten, you never gave it up, no matter what. But Linnea thought that both Belle and Gwydion would surrender their positions without a second thought to be with the ones they loved best . . . if it were possible.

But being who and what they are, they would never abandon their responsibilities that way, and neither I nor Master Rumple would ever expect them to. Ah well, the course of true love never did run smooth. But perhaps love will find a way, if the fates are kind.

"Val, would you like to card some wool for me after breakfast?" Rumple asked his daughter. "You can do that while I go over to the Guild house to speak with Master Derek about a shipment of cotton that just arrived, it's not up to usual standards and I don't want them paying usual rates for it. I'll also pick up Tyr on the way back home, Bae. Val, shall I see if Mistress Aileen can spare Lacey to come and play with you?"

"Sure, Papa. I can card the basket we have there," Val indicated the basket of undyed wool beside his spinning wheel. "But I dunno if Lacey can come and play. She's helping her mama and grandma make lace for the festival in two weeks."

"Okay, dearie. But I'll ask anyhow," Rumple said, not wanting Val to feel left out because she didn't have a friend over, even though he knew Bae and Tyr would let her play with them.

"Papa, can I practice spinning if Lacey can't come over?" Val asked then, for she wanted to get better at it.

"Of course you can," her father reassured her. "And even if she does come over, you can practice later on tonight." He looked over at his son. "Bae, would you like to try?"

Bae shrugged. "Umm . . . no, I'm okay," he said, not wanting to hurt his father's feelings by saying he thought spinning was boring. "I can practice my writing and drawing instead."

"All right. Then I'm off, dearies. See you in about an hour or so," Rumple said, then he put on his red cloak and left the cottage.

He had gone perhaps a few feet down the path to the main thoroughfair out of the palace grounds when his grimm wolf bounded over the low wall and joined him, smiling his signature lupine grin.

Rumple whistled happily as they walked out of the gates and down towards the Guild house, marveling that since Mai Lin's resetting of his leg, he could now walk with almost no limp at all.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

While Bae and Tyr played Bandits and Knights outside in the yard, Val and Lacey had a spinning lesson with Rumple, who showed them on his larger wheel, demonstrating his technique by twisting the wool fibers tightly before placing them upon the wheel. Both little girls were eager students, watching and listening more closely than some of the apprentices he'd trained before at the Guild hall.

When they had spun two whole bobbins of thread, Rumple praised their hard work and then told them to go play outside with the boys until lunch time. He then spun more spools of gold for the treasury and the widow and orphan fund while Linnea baked some delicious ham and cheese pockets and cherry pie.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Maurice was reading through several reports before having a meeting with Lumiere, Gawain, and Gwydion about the recent unrest on their northern border with the ogres when the raven flew in his window and settled upon his shoulder with a soft caw.

Maurice reached up and stroked the bird, then gently untied the message tube from its foot and fed it a small piece of dried beef that he kept in a dish for the messenger birds. After gobbling the treat, the bird bobbed its head and croaked, "Thank you, Your Grace!" before flying back out again.

Maurice opened the tube and unrolled the parchment square, which looked blank. He reached into a drawer beside his left foot and withdrew a nondescript vial labeled Headache Remedy. He uncorked it and sprinkled the potion over the parchment.

It shimmered briefly and then words appeared upon the blank parchment.

Maurice returned vial to the drawer, then pulled out a pair of spectacles, lately his eyes had been getting blurry, and bent to read what his agent had written.

Fifteen minutes later the king was ready to spit, he was so furious at what his agent had reported to him. He was tempted to toss his arrogant knight into prison the way he had done Gaston's cousin, Lord Kensington, but then decided on a much more fitting solution, one that would show the lord's true colors once and for all.

He withdrew sheet of parchment stamped with the Avonlea royal crest and began to write rapidly upon it, not deigning to use a royal scribe, since he didn't want anyone privy to this missive save himself and Gaston.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Two days later, Gaston, Killian, and Milah arrived back in Avonlea City. Gaston had received an urgent summons from the king to return to court, and he had eagerly complied, thinking Maurice needed him and that was why he had summoned him back. Cora had left and gone home two days earlier, so her father would be none the wiser, as she had told him she would be spending the night with a sick friend from the Guild.

Gaston couldn't wait to get the king alone and bend his ear about his new councilor's past, and he rode ahead of the two pirates, who didn't much fancy riding, and instead had hired a coach to get to the city. It took the knight two hours of hard riding to get to the city and Milah and Killian took twice that long to arrive.

Gaston paused long enough to change into court attire and wash quickly in his suite of rooms at the palace, which were kept ready for him upon his express orders. Then he went to present himself outside of Maurice's receiving chamber and wait until the king summoned him into his presence.

Maurice let Gaston cool his heels for nearly an hour in the antechamber before he called him inside.

Meanwhile, Milah and Jones disembarked from the coach, with Milah grousing about how much her behind hurt and didn't the darn coaches around here have springs?

"Go on and stretch your legs, love," Killian urged her. "Me, I need to wet my whistle a bit after that rattle trap ride," he said, grimacing a bit as he too stretched out his lower back. Horses and coaches were both a pain in the ass, he thought sourly. Nothing compared to a good ship under sail.

Milah strode on ahead of him, looking about at the buildings and the people going by. She had been in many a port town since leaving the Enchanted Forest, and thought Avonlea City was better kept up than most towns. She walked with an economical rolling gate, her cutlass visible at her side to discourage any would-be swains. Cora had given them directions to her house, and she was perusing the streets for the correct sign.

Soon she found the one leading to the Wool Merchant's Guild and went down it, locating the Miller home some few minutes later and knocking on the door. Cora opened it and ushered her inside, saying that right then her papa was working and had dropped her little sister Mandy off at a neighbor's house so she had the place to herself.

"Where's Killian?" Cora asked as she shut the door.

"Down having one for the road in some tavern. He'll be along soon," Milah answered.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"You got anything like whiskey?"

"Uh . . . yeah, Papa keeps some for medicinal purposes in here," Cora went to the cabinet and reached in the back, pulling out an amber bottle a few moments later.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Killian departed the tavern some twenty minutes later and strolled up the street towards Cora's house, a little tipsy, but not too much considering it was only the middle of the day. The crowds were getting thicker, as it was noon time and people were going to the vendors and cookshops for lunch.

He started past the Guild hall, noting that several children, undoubtedly the sons and daughters of members, were playing in the small yard in front of the building.

Killian paused before turning into Cora's drive, trying to see if he could spot the cowardly spinner, as some adults were also lounging in the shade of a large tree on a bench. As he scanned the Guild members, he caught the eye of Tyrian, Val, Lacey, and Bae.

The four were playing Simon Says and Val was supposed to be Simon, but just as she was going to shout out something for Tyr, Lacey, and Bae to do she saw the stranger standing there, looking into the yard.

Growing up in New York, Val had seen plenty of people who dressed differently and were quite open about being gay or artsy, but she had never seen anyone like that since coming to live in Avonlea, and Killian's leather attire and his guyliner caught her by surprise.

So much so that she blurted out the first thing that came into her head upon seeing him. "Hey! Look over there! It's Captain Guyliner!"

Her three companions all turned their heads, giggling at her nickname, to stare at the pirate.

"That's Captain Jones to you, girlie!" Killian called over to them.

Val eyed him up and down, then decided to ask him an even more pointed question, just to clarify something. "Hey, mister? Are you a transvestite too?"

"A what?" Killian frowned.

"Do ya like to wear women's clothes? Because only transvestites and gay men wear guyliner," she explained.

Bae gaped at the pirate. "He likes to wear women's clothes?"

Tyr started giggling. "Really? What for?"

"Hey! I never said that!" Killian protested.

Lacey started laughing too. "A guy in skirts!"

"Stop saying that, you little brats!" the pirate growled, puffing out his chest in his ire.

"Hey, mister? Is that your chest or are you smuggling chinchillas?" Val queried artlessly.

"What's a chinchilla?" asked Tyr.

"It's a fuzzy rat," she replied.

Killian felt his jaw drop. "A rat? Why you little snot! Somebody ought to teach you some manners!"

He started forward, his hand raised, only to shrink backwards as a huge wolf the size of a pony suddenly appeared between him and the children. The animal was gigantic and had blazing blue eyes and teeth as long as daggers.

Killian swore and went to grab his rapier, his eyes wide as the great wolf stalked to the edge of the lawn and snarled softly at him.

"Better watch it, Captain Guyliner," Bae called. "Otherwise Arrow will eat your butt off."

Some of the other children ran over to see what was going on, and Tyrian sang out, "Hey, that man's a transvest-uh, he's a guy who likes to wear women's clothes!"

"Really? I never heard of any guy who liked that!" laughed another kid.

Before Killian could blink, all the children in the yard were giggling and whispering, "Captain Guyliner likes to wear women's clothes! Captain Guyliner likes to wear women's clothes!"

Killian ground his teeth together, but didn't dare move a foot towards the brats, because the wolf was growling so loud that he could feel his bones reverberate with it. Muttering a few more choice words, he spun about and went up the walk towards Cora's house.

Behind him, the children continued to laugh and whisper about the man who liked to wear women's clothes, and within an hour and a half the Guild knew about it, since the kids promptly told any adult within earshot.

That earned all of them stern injunctions to stay away from that stranger, because any man who liked to wear women's clothes was clearly not right in the head and couldn't be trusted.

And in nothing flat rumors were all over the city.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Gaston couldn't believe his ears. He had expected the king to greet him with open arms and say how much he couldn't do without him, not receive a lecture about treating those under him with respect and compassion, and hearing the king suggest he fire LaFue for gross mismanagement of his people! "A lord must treat all his people fairly," Maurice had scolded. "Or else he is no proper noble. Surely your mother taught you this?"

"She . . . she taught me to take charge at my estate, sire, and to make sure my people obeyed me," Gaston coughed.

"Hmm . . . but obedience ought to be tempered by respect and gentleness," Maurice pointed out.

"Of course, sire. But might I tell you about some news I learned recently?" Gaston wheedled. How did the king know about what went on at Lyonesse? Was there truth to the rumors that Maurice had a Seeing globe?

"What news?" asked Maurice.

Gaston opened his mouth to begin telling the king about Rumple's cowardice when there came a knock at the door, and Belle entered.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Papa, but Gawain asked me to postpone your meeting, as he's in conference right now with one of his messengers and—oh! Gaston! You're . . . back." Belle cried, unable to keep some of the dismay from her tone upon seeing her absent suitor.

"Hello, my pretty Belle," Gaston crooned, reaching out to take her hand and bowing over it and then kissing the back of it. "I was just telling your papa of the interesting bit of news I've picked up. And I think you'd like to hear it too."

"What news? A fourteen point white stag was sighted in the forest?" she asked, fighting to keep the revulsion from her face and her tone even.

Gaston laughed, not recognizing her mockery. "No, of course not! This concerns Councilor Gold."

"Rumple? What about him?" Belle frowned.

"He's a coward and a deserter twice over," Gaston sneered, proceeding to tell the king about Rumple's reputation as a coward.

"Papa!" Belle gasped. "That's not true! He's got it all wrong!"

Maurice scowled. "Gaston, just where did you hear this story?"

"Well, sire, it's a funny thing, but I happened to meet up with an old acquaintance of mine, and he knew Rumple's wife—"

"The wife who ran off and left him and his little boy for another man?" Belle demanded tartly.

"How do you know that, Belle?" Maurice exclaimed.

"Easy, Papa. Rumple told me. And so did his children, the very first day I met him. They were very up front about it. He also told me some other things too," Belle said, then proceeded to tell her father the true story behind Rumple's lameness and so called cowardice.

"How do you know he wasn't lying?" Gaston demanded.

"Well, I'd take Rumple's word over that cheating . . . tramp's any day of the week!" Belle declared hotly.

"Hmm . . . my daughter has a point, Gaston," the king pointed out. "Rumple has proven to be honest and selfless. Those are not the attributes of a coward."

"Maybe it's all a pretense, sire," protested Gaston.

Maurice nearly ground his teeth together. "Perhaps I ought to check this story out then."

"How, Papa? All the men he tried to save are dead, and I doubt the soldiers in his company will admit to such an atrocity," Belle said.

"Perhaps not, but there are ways, Belle, that I can figure out the information I need to know," Maurice said enigmatically. He was actually angry that Gaston, who had done so many ignoble and wicked things to his own people, had the nerve to cast dirt on another's name. He would ask Gwydion to do a past Viewing for him. That would prove to him beyond doubt which account was the true one.

He cleared his throat. "We'll discuss this later. Right now I have more important things to attend to. Like this meeting." Though after it, Maurice resolved to ask his magician to get to the bottom of this dilemma.

He rose and left the room, heading over to the council chamber, with Gaston and Belle following.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Gawain reported that the ogres were growing bolder in their forays, and several farmsteads reported thefts of livestock and one farmer stated that an ogre had smashed in the roof of his barn and stole two of his cattle and ate them before lumbering away, picking his teeth with a sapling.

Maurice decided to dispatch some troops to help out those stricken, though they were to guard only and not go into the ogres' territory, for such would be a violation of their treaty.

Afterwards, he spoke privately with Gwydion and the two remained closeted for an hour in the king's privy chamber.

Upon emerging, Maurice now knew the truth of Rumplestiltskin's past and with that in mind made a decision he had been pondering on for a long time.

Then he summoned Gaston back to ask him a question.

Gaston came and bowed to him, saying, "You wished to see me, sire?"

"Yes. I wish to ask you something," the king began. "If you found that one of your men had gone above and beyond the call of duty, and rendered you a great service, how would you reward him?"

Gaston grew excited upon hearing this. The king probably wanted to reward him for exposing Rumple for the lying coward he was. So he said eagerly, "Sire, I would grant him a parcel of land and have a triumph for him. He would be given a robe of ermine and velvet, a kingly raiment, and allowed to process through the streets in your own chariot. And everyone would be shouting his name and cheering." Gaston could practically hear the cheers on all sides as he imagined himself riding down the street. "Oh, and maybe you could also agree to give him your daughter's hand in marriage?"

"Why that's a splendid idea, Gaston!" Maurice praised.

"Isn't it though?" Gaston preened. "And when will you make the announcement, sire?"

"Tomorrow morning," the king said.

Gaston looked extremely happy then. "I see."

"You're dismissed," Maurice waved him away.

Gaston went, unable to keep a smirk of triumph off his face.

A/N: A special thanks goes to cynicsquest and Nicole Muench Seidel for their suggestions!