51

Attitude Adjustments

As they processed into the city, the horses stepping out smartly among the crowds that thronged the streets cheering and clapping and shouting, "Rumplestiltskin, Princess Belle!" and "Long live the Lord of Lochdubh!" Rumple had one of his hands in Belle's, and the other he threw conjured gold coins to the watching people with, because Belle's hand in his reminded him this was not a dream, but a reality. He was now a duke. When a few moments ago he had been just ordinary Rumple, master spinner and weaver, councilor.

He smiled at Belle and murmured, "Did you know? That the king was going to do this?"

Belle grinned at him. "Not for sure. It's what I'd hoped he'd do. But I didn't know if he would actually do it. But something convinced him. But I'm so glad, Rumple! It's what you deserve! And now we can finally stop creeping into corners and kissing in the library!" she giggled. "Not that I didn't like doing that, but . . ."

They crested a small hill and the royal coachman halted to give the people time to see their princess and new duke.

As he did so, Belle wound her arms about Rumple and kissed him, a kiss of celebration and love that made his heart nearly burst from his chest in delight, and then he kissed her back with equal passion.

People watching cheered when they saw that, caught up in the pageantry and romance and happy for their princess and Rumple, who had proven to all that you didn't need to be born with a silver spoon to achieve greatness, you simply had to work hard and be trustworthy and honest and it would be rewarded. One of the loudest group of well wishers were the members of the Wool Merchants Guild, who were all chanting "Rumplestiltskin! Hooray for the spinner duke!"Led by Master Derek and Tyr, along with Mistress Aileen and Lacey, every member of the Guild had turned out to cheer for one of their own, who had achieved the stuff of dreams.

In the crowd, Bart held Mandy on his shoulder and cried, "Look, Mandy! It's Master Rumple and Arrow! Well, Lord Rumple I ought to say now," he amended. "And Princess Belle! See?"

Mandy squealed and clapped her small hands. "Yay! Rumple and Warrow! Pwincess Belle!"

And Arrow swiveled his head around and saw them, and grinned his lupine grin at the miller and his daughter, his blue eyes sparkling. He was glad for his sorcerer, but also watchful, for he knew Rumple had an enemy in Gaston, and probably some others here were jealous of his good fortune.

Rumple lifted his head and saw Bart and Mandy and he waved and threw several coins at them, which he saw Bart catch in one big hand. He didn't see Cora anywhere and wondered where the elder miller's daughter was.

The coachman shook the reins and the horses resumed their parade.

Beside the king, Val and Bae were jumping up and down and cheering, and Val was singing, "Papa and Belle sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!"

Gwydion started laughing when he heard that, and he moved and put his arms around the two children. "This is a great day, isn't it, my lord and lady?"

Val smiled up at the blond sorcerer, one of the few men she trusted to hug her that wasn't her papa. The other one was Jeff, whom she saw with the palace guard some rows down, with Dizzy on his shoulder, grinning. "Gwydion, I'm not a lady! I'm just Val."

"Oh, no, you aren't!" he told her. "You're a duchess now, Val, because your papa's a duke."

"So that means we're dukes and stuff?" Bae asked, trying to figure it all out. It was overwhelming.

"Yes. But don't worry," Gwydion said, ruffling his hair. "I'll explain it all later. For now, let's watch the triumph!" He wished Linnea were there with them, but he figured she was still down in the lower end of the city, and hoped she had a good view of the procession from wherever she was.

As he gazed out across the crowd, the master mage noticed Gaston's surly face and thought, well, well, how the mighty have fallen. What goes around comes around, my lord, and now you're at the bottom of fortune's wheel. It was a pity, the sorcerer thought acidly, that the buffoon couldn't be stripped of his lands and title somehow.

While Gaston seethed and plotted on the king's platform, down below, Milah and Killian were swept up in the crush of people and borne along at the edge of the crowd. Everyone was pushing and elbowing each other to get a good view of the carriage and its occupants and even the huge grimm wolf that trotted alongside.

At first the pirate captain and his first mate couldn't quite comprehend what all the fuss was about, except that there was a royal procession happening and the people were all cheering for their princess and some lord of Lochdubh, wherever that was.

"Must be somebody pretty important, love," Killian said, keeping his arm about Milah so she wasn't knocked down.

"Yeah. Maybe Gaston's with them," Milah mused. She strained to see, peering inbetween someone's arm and shoulder.

Finally the carriage appeared and Killian moved to catch some coins. Milah could see the occupants at last, and when she did so, her jaw almost hit the dirt. "Gods and hells! That's—that's Rumplestiltskin up there! With the princess! Surely he can't be—this lord of Lochdubh, or however you say it!"

A stranger next to her gave her an odd look and said, "Haven't you heard? The king just made him a duke and now he's betrothed to the princess! That's why there's a triumph!" He began clapping loudly and yelling, "Health to Princess Belle and Duke Rumple, Lord of Lochdubh!"

Milah grimaced, thinking that this king must be insane, to promote a crippled coward like Rumplestiltskin to the peerage . . . and have him betrothed to his daughter no less! Gaston must be seething. She peered hard at the carriage, trying to get a glimpse of Belle's face, but right then Belle wasn't facing her, she had her back to Milah, and was waving at people on the other side of the carriage.

Milah scowled as she caught sight of her former husband, grinning like the village idiot and tossing coins to people. She wondered how well he'd be liked if people knew he was a deserter and a coward. Or how fast his princess would up and leave once she found out. Maybe she ought to send a letter to that effect to the palace, and sign it anonymously or using an alias.

Then the princess turned to say something to Rumple, and Milah finally saw her face.

"Bloody damn hell!" she spat, drawing frowns from those around her. But Milah didn't care about her language. The princess was the woman in the blue dress who had punched her in the mouth! Milah's hand went automatically to her still sore jaw and she cursed the pair roundly in her head. No one, not even a princess, made her a laughingstock and got away with it!

Somehow, some way she was going to find a way to get back at that carping little bitch and her cowardly betrothed.

Beside her, Cora glared angrily at both Rumple and Belle, and wondered how mealy-mouthed Rumple had ever managed to worm his way into the upper echelons of society. Perhaps he had been having an affair with Belle? It should have been Gaston in the carriage, she thought angrily, then she recalled that if it had been, their clandestine little trysts would have to end. But now . . . perhaps now he would turn to her for comfort. Cora was sure she had gotten the better deal there, for she doubted if the master spinner was any good in the bedroom. He probably asked permission to kiss her, the milksop!

While Milah schemed and vowed revenge, the royal procession clipclopped into the city market, and Rumple saw Linnea's stall and bade the coachman halt beside it, or as near as he could get to it because of the crowds. Then he half-stood up and called loudly, "Mistress Linnea! I'd like some of your cinnamon walnut pastries, if you please!"

Linnea had been standing behind her booth, and listening in amazement to the news that had trickled down from the palace, and she now gasped to see the royal carriage and her master and Belle within it. "Oh! Master R-Rumple!" she cried, and hurriedly grabbed a small sack and placed four of her cinnamon walnut pastries inside it.

The crowd parted so she could approach the coach with her confections, blushing slightly.

"Hello, dearie!" Rumple greeted her and reached out to take the bag. He sniffed the delectable aroma and cried, "Mmm! My mouth is watering just from the smell. Thank you, Linnea."

"You're quite welcome, Master Rumple . . . err . . . I mean, my lord . . ." Linnea stammered, recalling that now she had to address him properly, and she curtseyed, blushing even redder.

"Hey!" Rumple said softly, and took her hand. "You don't bow to me. I might have this title added to my name now, but you're still my friend, and to you I'm just Rumple, dearie." Then he kissed her hand and cried, "This woman makes the best pastries in all of Avonlea City! Buy some before you go home today!"

"Yes, and her cookies are outstanding too!" Belle added, smiling down at Linnea.

Around her, people began to clap at the way their newest noble treated a common baker, and as Rumple sat back down, handing out a pastry each to Belle and the coachman, and the coach started moving again, people turned and started queuing up at Linnea's stall again, eager to buy the best pastries in the city, from the woman who was the duke's personal friend and servant.

In the space of fifteen minutes, Linnea was swamped with customers and half her wares were gone, and in another fifteen she was sold out completely.

As the carriage processed back towards the palace, Belle told him about the altercation with Milah that afternoon.

"You punched out my former wife?" he cried, his eyes widening. "Oh, gods, but I wish I could have seen that! And Val 'ported her into a manure pile?" He started laughing. "That must have been the highlight of the afternoon."

"And your son told her where to get off too," Belle murmured. "She tried to convince him he was better off with her and that rogue, but Bae wasn't having any of it. She slapped him across the face though."

"She hit him, the harpy bitch?" Rumple growled. "I ought to find her and change her into a rug and beat her scurvy ass! Is he okay?"

"Yes. I put some arnica balm on him, Rumple."

"Thanks, Belle."

"It's no trouble, Rumple. I love him and Val like they were my own," she said sincerely. "And someday, they will be."

"Yes, and that day might be sooner than you think, beloved," then he winked at her, and kissed her again.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

There was a feast held to honor both Rumple's ascension to the peerage and also the betrothal that night, and even Val and Bae were in attendance, with Gwydion helping to magic up court dress for the children while Rumple signed betrothal agreements in Maurice's study.

"Would you like a pink gown or a blue one?" he asked Val.

"Umm . . . pink please, Gwydion," she said.

"Good choice!" he agreed, and waved his hand and her green-sprigged muslin gown was transformed into a little satin ball gown with ruffled sleeves and two frilly petticoats and the bodice layered with ruching and pearls, plus pearl encrusted matching slippers, and a pink headband with a satin rosebud on it. "There, Val. You look like a little rosebud. How do you like it?"

Val held out her skirts and did a small curtsey, which was something her friend Lacey had taught her. "It looks awesome!"

"Sorry I can't do hair though," Gwydion said ruefully. Being a bachelor wizard had its drawbacks.

"It's okay. My hair's good," Val said, since Rumple had combed and braided it that morning and she liked the way the headband looked in it.

Then he turned to Bae, who was curiously examining some of his potions on his apothecary chest. "Bae, what color do you want your doublet to be?"

Bae turned and said, "Umm . . .indigo blue velvet with some gold trim, please. And no puffy sleeves or one of those ruffs." He made a face. "Those sleeves make me look like a girl and the ruff's scratchy."

"I agree, I don't like them either," Gwydion replied. "I'll give you a soft cotton shirt, gathered at the wrists, and a doublet with a mandarin collar like those of Shang Yze wear, okay? Is there a certain type of crest you want on it?"

"Yeah. Like the one Papa was wearing when he went to the ball that time. I made it," Bae said.

"The one with the tree and crown and the spinning wheel, right?" Gwydion clarified.

"That's it," Bae nodded.

Gwydion concentrated and Bae's regular shirt and breeches were transformed into a rather classy set of black leather pants, floppy leather boots, and a soft shirt with gathered sleeves. The doublet, as promised reached to almost mid-thigh, and was a soft indigo velvet with a mandarin collar and gold braid trim with his crest on the right side. Gold buttons shaped like cunning spinning wheels twinkled as they marched down the doublet. Bae even had a little cap with a peacock feather in the brim and another spinning wheel button fastening it to the hat.

"Cool!" he exclaimed, examining himself in Gwydion's beveled mirror standing in the corner of the suite. He bowed to the mirror exaggeratedly, then went and took Val's hands and said, "May I have this dance, milady?"

The two spun around, giggling like loons, while Gwydion watched and smiled, thinking about what it would be like to have children with Linnea.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The feast lasted into the night, and consisted of twelve courses, though by the time the dessert course was served, Val and Bae were almost too full to try the marchpane spinning wheel that was the showpiece of the dessert course, or eat some chocolate filled pastries shaped like flowers.

Val barely nibbled on her rose, all the food was making her sleepy, and it was almost nine o'clock, nearly an hour past her usual bedtime.

Beside her, Bae stuffed some marchpane in his mouth and swallowed, determined to have some of the glorious treat despite being full. He too was growing tired, but didn't know what to do about it, as there was no bed for him to sleep in.

Rumple was busy speaking to a few more court dignitaries and only realized the hour when he heard the clock chime from the hallway outside the ballroom. Nine o'clock already? Hells, I've got to go and put my kids to sleep. He excused himself and headed back towards the table where the children were sitting, wishing this feast were over so he could go home, for he was tired also, and his head was spinning around from all that had happened that day.

He was halfway to the table when Lord Lumiere stopped him, and when Rumple tried to disengage himself and continue on to his children, the elder councilor said, "You needn't do that yourself, Rumple. That's what servants are for. You can put them in one of the guest rooms in the ducal wing, they can sleep there until this is over."

Rumple was about to protest that he didn't like his children being apart from him, but before he could get the words out, Lumiere had summoned a servant to take the children off to bed, and hauled him off to discuss some new proposals as well as the growing unrest in the western part of the country from ogre raids.

Arrow, go with them, please. Val might be frightened in someplace new, and I don't trust everyone in the palace. Milah and Jones are lurking somewhere, and Gaston's none too happy either, he sent to his grimm wolf.

Arrow rose and accompanied the two children and the servant, while Rumple cast a longing glance over his shoulder before allowing Lumiere to lead him away.

Page~*~*~*~Break

It was nearing midnight when the party finally wound down and Maurice retired, along with the rest of the court and Belle kissed her betrothed goodnight and said she would see him tomorrow at the privy council meeting. Rumple happily kissed her goodnight and then went to find his children, following Arrow's prompting.

He soon located the wing of the palace where the children were and found the room they had been put in, which was guarded by two of the King's Own, Maurice's personal guardsmen.

The guardsmen saluted him with their closed fists against their chests and said respectfully, "Goodnight, Your Grace."

Rumple blinked, still unfamiliar with his new mode of address, and he paused and glanced around to see what noble they were talking to, thinking perhaps Lumiere had followed him. But there was no one but himself here, and only then did his brain unfog enough for him to recall that they were addressing him. "Thank you, lads," he coughed, embarrassed, and gave them a friendly nod before going into the room.

He found his children's clothes hung neatly on hooks beside the armoire and Arrow lying before the door to the suite.

All's quiet here, Rumple, the wolf sent.

"Good. Thank you for watching them," he said to his familiar, and went into the attached bedroom.

He found Val sound asleep, curled in the middle of the bed, and he thought Bae was asleep also, but when he bent over to kiss them goodnight, his son sat up and said, "Papa, I don't feel good."

"What's wrong, Bae?" he asked softly.

"My tummy hurts," the little boy admitted, looking slightly abashed.

Rumple picked him up and sat the child on his knee. "Hurts how, son? Do you have cramps? Do you feel like you're going to throw up?" He gently pressed certain spots on the boy's abdomen to see if they were tender or painful. "Do you have diarrhea?"

Bae shook his head. "No . . .my tummy just feels gross." He squirmed a bit when his father felt his abdomen.

"Have you moved your bowels today? If not, you can drink a cup of prune juice."

"Yes, my stomach just feels yucky," the boy whimpered, and this time his eyes slid towards the floor.

Rumple was tired, or he would have picked up on the child's evasiveness sooner. "How much dessert did you eat, young man?"

"Umm . . . I had some marchpane and a pastry with chocolate," his son admitted, wriggling when Rumple pressed down on his tummy. "Oww!"

"Hmm . . . you probably ate too much. That dinner was endless." He snapped his fingers and two cups appeared on the small nightstand. "Drink those, Bae. The first cup has some water in it with baking soda, that ought to help with digestion and relieve the extra gas in your tummy. The second cup has chamomile and ginger tea, which is good for soothing stomachaches."

"Okay," Bae sighed, knowing better than to protest.

Rumple held him while he drank the herbal remedies, cuddling the child and rubbing his back.

Soon the remedies had their desired effect, and Bae said he felt better, though he remained curled up on his papa sleepily.

"Okay, son. Next time don't stuff yourself like a goose," Rumple remonstrated, then he tucked the boy back into bed next to his sister.

He then pulled off his clothing, and found a large silky nightshirt at the foot of the bed, and put it on, then climbed into bed next to his children, pulling the covers snuggly around him.

Soon after he felt Arrow's warm bulk settling on his feet and he fell asleep secure in the knowledge that his children were safe beside him and his familiar was keeping watch.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Over the next two weeks, Rumple was kept busy meeting with various court advisors and getting messages back and forth by messenger dove from Lochdubh on the estate and how the staff there was working extra hard to make the manor house all clean and sparkly for their new lord. The steward, a man named John McIver, was sending him updates on how they were working on the house and grounds, explaining that the place had gotten into a bit of disrepair during the last five years since the old lord had passed away.

Rumple wrote him back, telling him to take his time, since he wasn't quite ready to move just yet. Actually, Maurice had assigned him a team of movers to assist him, but what was holding him back wasn't the mechanics of it, he could have had everything packed up within the cottage in a day or two, and shipped over to Lochdubh if he'd wished.

What was taking time was convincing himself and his children that the move was a good thing for the family.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Maurice's generosity in gifting him with land and a title, in addition to betrothing Belle to him. He did, but he found the sudden shift in status overwhelming, to say the least. Now he was suddenly responsible for some huge, at least to him, estate, and not just his own little household.

He now had to give up his teaching at the Guild hall, as his new duties wouldn't allow time for it, and he missed tutoring the apprentices, though Derek assured him that they had a few journeymen ready to walk the tables and be promoted to master status in a month or so. And enough of the apprentices had been taught his new techniques for spinning, weaving, and dying wool that he would be forever a legend in the Guild. Derek had even commissioned a portrait in his honor, and the artist had shown up and sketched him and painted him for three hours one afternoon while his children were at school. When completed, it would hang in the main hall beside the portraits of the Guild founders.

In addition to that, Derek and the other masters were busy weaving him new sets of clothing for his new rank and some for Baelfire and Val as well, working with extra fine fabrics, and that took time, even with the sewing machines.

He was also receiving "lessons" on ruling from Maurice and Lumiere, and trying to spend some time with his betrothed inbetween all of that. He'd also spoken with Linnea and told her that when he was situated at Lochdubh, the cottage would belong to her, as his parting gift, and she could use part of it to set up a bakery if she wished, though he figured that if Gwydion had anything to say about it, she'd be wearing a betrothal ring before long.

He had also begun the arduous process of packing up some things to take with them to their new home, and it was that which really brought home to his children the fact that things were changing rapidly. And not always for the better.

After Val watched as Rumple carefully packed some of their pottery bowls and utensils into a box, she went and whispered uneasily to Bae, "Bae, if we're moving . . . then that means we won't be able to see Tyr and Lacey anymore."

"But we always see them at school," he objected.

"Not if we move. There's probably gonna be some other school there at this place and we won't know anyone and we'll be the new kids and get made fun of and stuff. I know, 'cause that's how it was when my old papa and I moved into the new apartment in midtown Manhattan and I went to a different school." She wrung her hands nervously. "I don't wanna leave here. I like it here, with Linnea and I like going to school with Lacey."

"Me too. I don't wanna leave Tyr. This sucks!" Bae said moodily. "Why can't we just stay here?"

"I dunno," Val murmured unhappily.

That night over their roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and popovers, Bae asked Rumple, "Papa, why do we have to move? Why can't we just keep on living here? It's our house."

Rumple paused in cutting a piece of meat. "I know, Bae. But you see, things are different now that the king's made me a duke. And dukes don't live in cottages, dearie, but on estates in manor houses. The king's gifted me with land and an estate to run and a village to manage, and now I have to move there and see to it that things are being done properly. So that's why we have to move, Bae. I know it's difficult for you, but sometimes things change."

Bae scowled and muttered, "Change sucks!" and made a sad face with his gravy on his mashed potatoes.

Val just swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at the rest of her dinner, unable to eat anymore, even though normally she loved roast beef and mashed potatoes and buttery popovers.

Rumple sighed and thought that this move was going to be difficult on all of them, in more ways than one.

"Come on, finish eating," he encouraged. "Tonight's our bookclub, and you want to hear what happens to Aurora with Malificent, yes?"

"Sure, Papa," Val said listlessly, and picked at her roast beef, dunking it in gravy and swirling it around.

Bae stabbed his popover with his fork, growling, "Sometimes I wish we weren't dukes now."

"Look, son. Sometimes life doesn't work out like you've planned and you have to make the best of it," Rumple began. "But this is a good thing, Bae. You'll see. Now finish your dinner, or no dessert, and Linnea made frosted sugar cookies."

So they reluctantly finished eating, though they were sulky and quiet at the bookclub meeting that night, and not even the thwarting of the dark fairy by the three good ones could make them smile.

The next three days dragged endlessly, and were made longer by Bae's sudden spate of rebelliousness and Val's withdrawal from Rumple at night.

"Baelfire, why did Miss Eva tell me you didn't hand in your homework yesterday?" Rumple queried that night before supper.

His son shrugged. "Cause I forgot about it."

"I reminded you to do it. How could you forget?" he frowned.

"I just did," answered the little boy.

"Well, now you have to make it up, as well as do your homework from tonight also," Rumple said. "Which means only one bedtime story tonight."

"Papa, that's no fair!" his son whined, scowling.

"It most certainly is. Now quit the attitude, dearie, and finish your homework," Rumple warned.

While Bae did his homework, Rumple tried to get Val to practice her spinning with him, as he had to spin more straw into gold. Normally, that wasn't a problem, but that night Val just said, "I don't want to, Papa," and then took Amanda Willa and ran upstairs.

Rumple stared after her in dismay. "What's gotten into her?" he wondered. Then he sat down and spun for about twenty minutes before going in to check on Bae, whom he found was doodling in his notepad instead of doing his math problems.

"Baelfire, quit dawdling and do your homework," Rumple ordered crossly.

"It's boring, Papa!" Bae cried, aggravated. He kicked the table leg with his foot.

Rumple shook his head at his son's defiance. "You know what else is boring, Baelfire? Standing in the corner for ten minutes because you're deliberately defying me. Now, is that what you want?"

Bae stuck his lower lip out. "I don't wanna do these dumb math problems!"

"That's too bad. If you'd done your homework last night like you were supposed to, you wouldn't be stuck doing extra homework tonight. Now quit whining, dearie, and just do it."

"What for? Miss Eva won't be caring what we do once we move, so who cares? This is dumb! I ain't doing it!" he cried rebelliously. "And you can't make me!"

"Excuse me, young man? That'll be enough of your sass, Baelfire Gold!" his father scolded. "Corner, now. Ten minutes."

"You're mean!" Bae snapped.

"Must I count to three?"

Bae stood up, but took his sweet time about it, prompting Rumple to start counting. "One."

Bae dragged his feet walking across the kitchen to the corner.

An exasperated Rumple growled, "You're pushing it, Baelfire. Don't make me get to three. Two."

"It's no fair, Papa!" his son cried, finally reaching the corner.

"Life isn't fair either. So deal with it, dearie," Rumple informed him, and began timing him with his pocket watch, a gift from the Guild Masters, engraved on the inside with his name and the date.

"Whatever, Papa," muttered his son sassily.

Rumple glared at him angrily. "Would you like a swat also?"

Bae made a face at the wall, and muttered, "Homework's stupid! So's my teacher. And so are you, Papa. You're all stupid!" He was angry at this whole situation and determined to try and make Rumple miserable right along with him, he also figured Rumple couldn't hear what he said.

Unfortunately, Rumple's hearing was enhanced due to his bond with Arrow, and he heard every word his son said. Not minded to put up with his son's disrespect any longer, the sorcerer stalked over to the little boy, leaned him over his arm, and smacked his backside twice.

Bae yelped and started crying, realizing too late he'd gone too far. "Papa, I'm sorry!"

"You should be," Rumple sighed. "Five more minutes," he said, turning Bae back to face the wall.

A very unhappy boy now cried and rubbed his stinging behind, while Rumple looked up at the ceiling and thought the gods must be laughing at him somewhere up there.

Finally the five minutes were up, and Rumple called a sniffling Bae from the corner. When the child came to him, he hugged him and said quietly, "Now, dearie, let's not do that again, okay?"

Bae buried his head in Rumple's shirt and cried, now feeling ashamed and guilty.

Rumple just held him until he was finished, then said, "Wash your face and finish your homework, son. I'm going to find your sister. Then we need to sit down and talk about this attitude you're having with me."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I acted like a spoiled brat."

"I know, but I forgive you. Finish your homework, dearie."

Bae obeyed now, and Rumple left him writing his ten addition problems and went upstairs to find Valentina.

He found Val had dragged her blue suitcase out from beneath her bed and had started tossing some toys into it, but then she just stopped and stared at it, silent tears rolling down her face. She had heard mostly everything that had gone on downstairs, so when Rumple came up and said, "Val, what are you doing?" she jumped like she'd been electrocuted and cried, "I'll be good, m'sorry, don't be mad, I'll go spin! M'sorry, Papa!"

Rumple stared at her in astonishment. "Val, what on earth? I'm not mad at you, pretty girl. And I'm not here to make you spin either. I just want you to come downstairs so I can talk to you."

"But . . . but you're mad . . . I know you are . . ." her lips quivered. "You're mad at Bae and me for being brats . . .you spanked him . . ."

"I did. Would you like to know why?" Rumple asked softly, kneeling down so he could look into her eyes.

Slowly, she nodded.

Rumple told her, then said, "Dearie, have you forgotten my promise?"

"No."

"Good. Then please quit looking at me like I'm going to beat you black and blue, Val."

"Then you're not mad?"

"Not anymore. Besides, I was never angry with you, Val, I was angry with Bae for acting like a brat and deliberately defying me when he knows better. But that's over and done with, dearie, and I've forgiven him. Now, I'd like you to come downstairs with me so we can talk about why you're both upset with me."

He held out his hand.

Val looked at it, then slid her gaze back up to his face, meeting his warm brown eyes with her bright green ones. She knew she shouldn't ever be afraid of him, that he would probably cut off his hand before he ever hurt her the way Paul Morinelli had. He had never hurt her, his long slender hand had brought gentleness and healing into her life, yet sometimes the past's shadows clung to her, whispering evilly into her ear. Resolutely she ignored the chattering ghosts, and slid her small hand into his larger one.

Rumple closed his eyes for the briefest of instants, as tears prickled them. He knew quite well what inner battle had been fought silently behind those eyes, knew as well that the simple act of placing her hand within his represented the ultimate act of trust for her.

He closed his hand over hers, and opened his eyes just as Val said, "Papa? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, dearie. Come on," then he rose and led her downstairs, his fingers circling her wrist like a delicate bracelet.

They found Bae sitting on the couch holding his completed homework assignments, which Rumple looked over before telling his son to go put it right in his schoolbag. Afterwards, Bae came and sat next to Rumple, curling into his father's side, while Val did the same on the other side.

"Okay. Now, we need to talk about what's really bothering you, because I know you're not angry with me over doing homework or spinning. I'm not as stupid as you think," Rumple began, looking from Val to Bae and back again.

Bae looked down at his hands. "I didn't mean that, Papa. I was just mad."

Val just shook her head, thinking Bae didn't know how lucky he was that Rumple was his papa and not her old one, who would have beaten the spit out of her for even looking at him with disrespect, never mind calling him stupid. She clutched Rumple's sleeve with one hand and said, "I'm not really mad . . . I'm just sad we have to leave here, Papa."

"Me too. I don't want to leave Tyr and Linnea and everybody," Bae agreed unhappily.

"I'll miss Lacey too, Papa," Val added. "She's my best friend besides Bae. What if we go to this new place and nobody likes us?"

"So you're afraid that no one will like you when we move to Lochdubh, is that it?" Rumple probed.

"Uh huh. And what if we don't like anybody either?" Bae added.

"What if I hate the house we move into?" Val asked worriedly.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're upset about moving away because you'll miss your old friends, think you can't make new ones, you won't like anyone and you'll hate the house we're going to?" Rumple ticked points off on his fingers. Both children nodded. "Well, that's sort of the same way I feel about it too."

Bae gaped at him. "You do? But . . . but you said we have to do this. And you're gonna be the lord of this Locdubh place, Papa."

"We do have to move, Bae. Because now we're members of the nobility, and we have to act like it," Rumple began.

"I ain't acting like a snot, like Gaston!" Val objected.

"No, no," Rumple shook his head. "The way Gaston acts, dearie, is something no one should ever try and imitate. He's a grown man who acts like a spoiled brat."

"Yeah, one that needs a spanking," Bae snorted.

"Very true. But it's not my place to discipline him. That headache belongs to the king," Rumple sighed. "What I meant before about having to act like nobility, dearies, is that we need to start living in a different manner than we do now. When the king gave me this title, he was also giving me a new set of responsibilities. Now instead of a noble telling me what I ought to do, I'm the one who gets to make the decisions for people. It's not something I particularly enjoy doing, but I have to learn how to do so, because now I have people depending on me. It's not an easy thing, but I'm going to try my best to do it right." He spread his hands. "Now, you've all seen the way Gaston and those like him act. And we don't want to be like him, so we have to show people the right way a noble behaves, okay? Because when you have power, you also have responsibility, dearies. When the king gave me this position, he did it so I could prove to everyone that a master spinner makes just as good a leader as a lord knight like Gaston."

"You can, Papa," Bae said encouragingly.

"Because you're lots better than rotten Gaston any day," Val said stoutly.

"Glad you think so," Rumple chuckled. "He also did it so I could court Belle, because he knew she loves me and I love her, but the difference in our stations was too great to marry without him granting me a title."

"Like marries like," Bae quoted a saying often heard from Miss Eva.

"Yes. So here we are. I have to move to Lochdubh in order to prove I'm capable of running an estate, because someday, children, I might well have to be king of Avonlea. And running a kingdom is ten times as hard, so I have to start somewhere. But I'm going to need your help."

"How can we help?" asked Val.

"You can help by trying your best to accept this move, pretty girl. I know it's not easy for you. It's not easy for me either. I like this cottage. I know exactly where everything is in it, and it's comfortable and cozy and the last thing I want is to start over somewhere new. But I have to. I have to meet all these new people too, and what if some of them don't like me, huh?"

"But Papa, you're a duke!" Bae objected. "They'll like you."

"Why? Gaston's a lord. Do you like him?"

"No. Because he's an idiot and he treats people like dirt," Bae said scornfully.

"And you don't," Val pointed out. "People will learn that you're not all bossy and nasty once they get to know you."

"That's right, Val. And people will get to know you too in time, and like you for who you are," Rumple told her. "And here's another thing to remember. If I'm a duke, then you're a duchess, and as my daughter, people won't pick on you like they did when you first went to school, Val. Or you either, Bae. They might even be a little . . . scared of you, because now you're nobles and have power over them."

"We do?" Val squeaked.

"Us?" Bae looked flummoxed, having never thought about it like that before.

"Yes. But just because you're nobles now doesn't mean that you forget all the manners I've taught you. Or forget the Golden Rule—treat others as you would like to be treated. If you follow that, dearies, I don't think you'll need to worry too much about people not liking you."

"Okay, but what about Linnea? Who's gonna help her with her stutter if we aren't here?" Val asked.

"Dearie, Linnea will have plenty of help from Gwydion," Rumple reassured them. "Plus I'm leaving her the cottage, so she'll be living here in our old home and not some strangers. She'll take good care of it. And Gwydion will be here to keep her from getting lonely."

Val giggled. "I think . . . someday he might marry her."

Rumple tweaked her nose. "I think you're right, Val. You can also write to her as often as you want. And we can come back to the city at certain times and stay here or in the palace. So it's not like you'll never see Linnea again."

"How about Jeff?" asked Bae.

"Well, Bae, it just so happens that Jeff and Dizzy are coming with us," said Rumple.

"Yes!" Bae pumped his fist in the air.

"I'm glad," Val said in relief.

"Jeff's going to be my captain of my house guard, and Alice has volunteered to be my cook," said Rumple. "So that's two people who you'll know besides me in Lochdubh. As well as Arrow and Dizzy."

"What about Tyr, Papa?"

"And Lacey?"

"I know you'll miss your friends. Like I'll miss mine at the Guild. Master Derek and Mistress Aileen, and Bart and Mandy. I'll also miss Gwydion, since I won't be able to see him every day like I do now. And Belle. Especially Belle," Rumple admitted. "But just because we won't be able to see them all the time doesn't mean we need to forget about them. We can use messenger doves, like the ones my steward, John McIver, does to write letters back and forth, and you can make playdates on weekends to visit each other and even have them come to Lochdubh after we get settled."

"That sounds good," Bae nodded.

"And as for you not liking our new house, Val, I promise to try the best I can to make it as similar as possible to this one. I'll make yours and Bae's rooms the same as they are here, and you'll have all your favorite things in them. You can take everything with you, we're not going to throw any of your stuff away. You can even help pack it when it's time. And we can have a going away party with all your friends and my friends. How does that sound?"

"It's not so bad, I guess," Bae allowed.

"Okay," Val nodded.

"All right. One more thing" he paused before saying, "As the time draws closer for us to leave, you'll grow more upset, and I understand that. It's frightening and frustrating to leave here and have to start over, believe me nobody knows that better than me. You can come talk to me about it anytime, or complain to me, or even cry all over me if you like. But if you're mad, please for the love of the gods, go and punch a pillow, or throw rocks at the fence post, but do not take your bad mood out on me by being disrespectful or having an attitude with me. Refusing to do chores or homework isn't going to make any difference whether or not we move, and it'll only get you in trouble, and neither of us want that. So don't make this harder than it already is, you two. Remember, even though things are changing, there are some things that will always stay the same."

"Like what?" Bae wanted to know.

"That we're together, Bae, as a family. No matter where we go, or what kind of place we live in, that will always be the same. That will never change, not if we live in the king's palace, or I marry Belle and become heir to Avonlea. We'll always be a family, and I'll always love you, forever."

"I love you too," Val said, and she hugged him.

"Me too, Papa," Bae agreed, then he did also.

Rumple hugged them tightly, surrounding them with his warmth and love, determined to make this new experience as positive as possible.

Little did he know that outside forces were conspiring against him, and determined to tear everything he'd worked so hard for apart.

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long for me to post, but I hope you all liked it.