A/N: Some dialogue in this chapter has been adapted from S4E21: Mother. Reference is made to S6E13: Ill-Boding Patterns.

Chapter 46

Rumple set the table and arranged the baked goods on a microwave-safe plate. Then, judging that he'd allowed sufficient time to elapse, he excused himself on the pretext of 'checking on the young ones' and made his way back to the living room.

As he'd expected, Cecily hadn't moved. He gave her another moment before he drew closer, not missing the way her breathing became a little bit slower and a little bit steadier at his approach. He shook his head, smiling just a bit. "You can get up now, dearie," he said softly. "I imagine you're wanting breakfast, as well."

For a moment, Cecily didn't move. Then her eyelashes fluttered, and she stretched and yawned. "Sorry," she murmured fumbling for her hairband. "I-I must've dozed off."

"Indeed." Rumple fixed his gaze on the blanket that had been beside her on the chair. "That's a very good cover," he said dryly.

"P-pardon?"

Rumple's lips twitched and he gestured pointedly to the blanket. "It's quite warm and not inclined to wrinkle."

"Oh," Cecily said with a relieved smile. "Y-yes, I'd meant to use it earlier, but the little ones kept waking up and I had to get them settled and, well, I guess I was pretty tired when you came back and…" Her voice trailed off when she realized that he was nodding encouragingly with an expression that made it plain that he was humoring her.

"I begin to see why Henry speaks about your theatrical skills in such glowing terms," Rumple remarked.

"Oh?" A pleased look sprang unbidden to the girl's face. "H-he does? I mean, thank you. It's good to hear. I mean, I practice a lot. I mean…"

Rumple snorted slightly as he smiled back. "Well, I daresay you'll continue to improve if you keep at it." He heaved a sigh and shook his head tolerantly. "Come now, girl. The path on which you're currently embarking will have pitfalls enough without my adding to them."

Cecily regarded him nervously, but with the faintest glimmer of hope.

Rumple sighed again. "Don't expect me to pretend I didn't see what I saw. But I think I've lived long enough to recognize when a matter requires intervention, and when it's… well, really none of my business. I trust the two of you are both sensible enough not to let matters progress to a point where I feel obliged to move this incident from the latter category into the former."

"We are," Cecily murmured, her face rapidly turning red as she looked away. "Really, it was just… I mean… I mean, we're not going to… do anything, honestly."

Rumple nodded. "Well. Now that we've got that out of the way, as you're awake, will you join us in the kitchen for breakfast?"

Cecily took a breath, let it out, and nodded. "Just let me take a minute to wash up," she said, sliding out of the chair without meeting his eyes, as she headed for the staircase.

The torch was heavy in Lily's hand as she walked apprehensively down a dark corridor. She no longer jumped when she saw movement; she'd noted early on that she was surrounded by mirrors. At first, she'd thought that she was trapped in a large room, but then she'd realized that there were corridors leading out from it, also mirrored so that she'd almost missed them before she'd started trailing one hand along the wall. So far, she seemed to be the only person here.

Person. A puzzled frown creased her face. That wasn't right. She hadn't been a person before she'd found herself here… had she? She'd… changed. Or had that been a dream? Or was this a dream? "Uh…" She cleared her throat. "Hello? Hello, can anyone hear me?"

Her voice echoed, reverberating through the maze, coming back to her in a tumultuous cacophony. It was like the mirrors weren't just reflecting images, but sounds.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Hey! Let me out of here!"

More echoes, but no other voice but hers. She frowned. Maybe she had something in her pockets that might help. There was no place to set down the torch, so she reached awkwardly into her jacket pocket with her free hand. The mace wasn't going to work. Neither would the tissues be of any use. Her eyebrows lifted as her fingers found a small cylindrical object. Well, breath mints wouldn't help either, but at least one might take care of the sour taste in her mouth. She pulled out the roll, then swore as the mace canister came out with it and hit the floor. Great. She stooped down to retrieve it, trying to hang onto the mints and keep the torch steady. When her bare hand brushed the floor she pulled it back with a yelp. It was hot!

Did mace explode when heated? She couldn't remember, but she wasn't about to pick the canister up now. She struggled to her feet and moved on hastily.

Lily.

She froze. "Who's there?"

Lily. The voice was firm, gentle, and not entirely unfamiliar. Lily, it's time to leave. Let me show you how.

"Who are you?"

She wasn't prepared for the answer. I'm your mother, Lily. And it's time to wake up…

To everyone's surprise including her own, after leaving the hospital and getting home shortly after seven that morning and promptly going to bed, Emma awoke not long after half-past nine. In robe and slippers, she made her way into the kitchen.

Her mother was already there giving Neal his feeding. She looked up at her daughter's footfalls. "Couldn't sleep?"

Emma shook her head. "I did for a bit, but I don't think I can right now." She rubbed her eyes. "Doesn't mean I don't still feel tired, though. There any coffee?"

"I can put a pot on after Neal's had breakfast."

Emma shook her head again. "This once, I'll have instant."

Snow gave her a sympathetic smile, which Emma returned as she opened one of the kitchen cabinets and took out the canister—which probably hadn't been used since the first Dark Curse. "Do you have any plans for today?" she asked.

Emma shook her head. "Henry went to Regina's to sleep; he thought it'd be more restful there," she added, her eyes flickering meaningfully to her baby brother. "Apparently, he and Cecily had to deal with the younger ones waking up periodically last night."

Snow gave a slight laugh. "Welcome to my world."

"Yeah," Emma nodded, smiling a bit herself. "So, since he won't be back here till later, and since I really was planning on sleeping in, I… guess I'm pretty free. Why? Did you need me to babysit for a while?"

"Not that," Snow replied. Then she seemed to reconsider. "Though if I need to run out to the grocery store, it'll be a help. No, I was wondering if maybe you could try to talk to Belle."

She tried not to let the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach show in her expression. Maybe her mother didn't mean what Emma thought she meant. "I know she's going through a lot," she said finally. "I mean, lately, she's been turning to Astrid for support; she hasn't confided in me much since she and Gold got back with each other. But, yeah, she is going through a lot. I can let her know I'll be there if she needs me."

Snow smiled. "That is a wonderful idea," she said. Her smile wilted slightly. "And maybe you could tell her how sorry I am about what happened. I didn't mean to… to…"

Emma waited for her mother to finish. Then she exhaled. "I don't think that that's going to be as wonderful an idea," she said.

"Emma!" Snow gasped. "I'm not asking you to apologize for me; I just want you to get her to listen to me."

"While her father's still in the hospital with major injuries," Emma pointed out. "Seriously don't think the timing is right."

Snow lowered her eyes. "Of course," she murmured. "But after Moe's released? Maybe you could sound her out? See if she's calmed down enough?"

"I…" Emma took another breath. "I'm not getting involved. This is between the two of you." She sighed. "Look. You meant well. I get it. And despite what Belle said in the hospital, I think we both know that what happened to Moe wasn't exactly your fault. But I can understand why she feels that way." She smiled sadly. "She's not going to stay mad forever. But I'm staying out of this." She let out another, heavier, sigh. "As bad as it seems, this… isn't a 'savior-level' crisis. You'll work things out."

Snow started to say something, but the look on Emma's face seemed to check her. Instead, she lowered her eyes and busied herself with the baby.

Emma cast about looking for something more reassuring to add, but she couldn't think of another thing to say. So she finished her coffee and retreated back to her room to get dressed. She hadn't been planning to go out today, but she didn't want to stay here with this new, uncomfortable tension in the air. It looked like she was going to head over to the sheriff station, after all.

"You're probably hungry," Maleficent said. "Transformations generally require a good deal of energy, at least initially." She smiled at Lily and extended her hands toward her, palms upraised and angled upwards. "What might I offer you?"

Lily looked about dubiously. She was in a cave of some kind. And she was… "Uh… was I really a-a…?"

"Dragon?" Maleficent smiled. "You were. And still are; just in human form at the moment."

"You changed me back?"

"I showed you how. The sleeping curse did make it easier; in your mind, you were already in human form. It was a matter of getting your outside to conform to your inside."

Lily rubbed her head. "Maybe I'd understand better if I had some coffee," she managed.

"Coffee? What is that, please?" Maleficent asked.

"You don't know?" Lily groaned. "Wow, how do people stay alert back where we come from?"

Maleficent shrugged. "Those who don't tend not to survive for long. The Enchanted Forest is not without dangers. As dragons, we're safer than most, but there's always some bold knight off to make a name for themselves by trying to jab a pike into us." She heaved a sigh. "It's annoying, but it does tend to wake you up. However…" She held one palm flat and facing roof-wards and frowned. A plume of purple smoke appeared floating above it. When it cleared, an earthenware mug hovered several inches above her hand. "The land that bordered my castle to the east is home to a mighty empire. Perhaps it exists still, I've no idea. This is one of their beverages. I believe it has the properties you seek. They call it 'tea'."

Lily reached for the mug with a broad smile. "I can work with that," she said with some relief. Then she blinked. "Whoa."

A wooden table had materialized before her, laden with what appeared to be a medieval banquet.

"I realize that these foods may not be what you're accustomed to, but I don't believe I've eaten in over thirty years," Maleficent admitted frankly. "And while an old friend promised to send supplies over in a bit, I'm not sure I'd like to wait." She beckoned her daughter toward the table. "Please. Join me. I can make more, if need be."

Lily eyed the fare curiously. She recognized bread and meat. There were pastries—she had no idea whether they were sweet or savory—turnovers and fritters mostly, and large bowls that looked suspiciously like porridge in varying shades of beige, yellow, and brown. "I don't know what half this stuff is," she murmured. But she shrugged and put a ladle of one of the porridge-like substances in a shallow bowl. When she tasted it, her eyes widened. It wasn't oatmeal, she didn't think, but it was rich and sweet and flavored with currants, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and something else she couldn't quite name. "What is this?" she asked, taking another spoonful.

Maleficent set down a pasty on her own plate and peered across at Lily's bowl. "I believe that would be a sweet frumenty," she said. "Cracked wheat, eggs, cream, spices, a bit of ale…"

"Ale?" Lily laughed. "I thought it had a bit of a kick to it."

She downed another spoonful with gusto.

Robin arrived about an hour later to escort Roland and the Lapine children home. "And I believe there's a horse to collect as well?"

Rumple nodded. He'd forgotten about that. "He's just in the back," he murmured, remembering that the captain had told him as much after he'd returned from escorting Moe off the property the night before. "I-I'm afraid we've neglected to feed him."

Robin didn't seem overly surprised by the statement. "Under the circumstances, I can see why that might have slipped your mind. Well. We can see to that. If you've oats on hand, a mash shouldn't be too difficult to make up."

Rumple smiled. "While I've far more experience with sheep than horses, during my brief enlistment, I was instructed in the care and feeding of them."

Belle blinked. "But… weren't there stable grooms for that?" she blurted.

"There were," Rumple nodded, remembering that his wife had never been part of an army, never fought in a war, and didn't realize that the way horses were cared for in a noble's castle might not hold true in a military camp. "However," he elucidated, "it was understood that in war, one might not always have the luxury of returning to camp or of bedding down in a location where one might find a stable, let alone the staff to run it." A shadow fell across his face. "Civilians were required to oblige the army, of course, providing food and lodging for both soldiers and horses. But wartime meant hungry times and while obligations were met with regard to provisioning, it generally seemed that the hostlers had all been coincidentally drafted and there was nobody about with the expertise to feed and care for a mount." He smiled thinly. "Having been on both sides of that issue, I find fault with nobody. However, because such occurrences were common, every soldier understood that they might need to attend to their own steed. And thus were we instructed." As he'd been talking, he'd been opening kitchen cabinets and taking out a canister of rolled oats, a large jar of applesauce, and a box of oat-based breakfast cereal. "I'm not certain I've ever eaten any of these," he admitted. "They came with the Curse. But blended with boiling water, I do believe that they will suit."

"Admirably," Robin nodded. "At least, until he's back home and can be fed properly. Speaking of which," he eyed the remains of breakfast on the table with a faintly hopeful smile. "Might I…?" he asked.

Belle passed the plate at once.

Cecily pushed her chair back from the table. "I should be headed to school," she murmured.

"After last night?" Robin asked.

"Yes, sir," Cecily said with a slight shrug. "I can't really afford to miss it and it's not as though I'll be able to sleep at home."

"You might be surprised," Robin returned. "Your mother contacted me a short while ago, asking whether your younger siblings might benefit from a day in the forest. She thought she could do with a bit of quiet and mentioned you'd likely want the same."

Cecily's eyes widened. "Sh-she did?" she said incredulously.

Robin nodded. "Back in Sherwood, I'd often thought that your mother to be more perceptive than might appear at first blush. As you're probably aware," he smiled, "she was your age once. And the eldest of a rather large family. Responsibilities and duties fall on us all and mustn't be shirked, but every now and again, I'd say that some respite is in order and I'd judge that she feels the same way. Of course, if you'd rather go to school…"

Cecily smiled a bit self-consciously. "I should," she hedged, "but honestly, I'll probably sleep the day away wherever I am. And it's not like I have any tests I'd be missing. And…" She took a breath. "I guess a day off isn't that bad an idea. And today isn't a rehearsal day," she added. "I don't think." She looked at Henry. "Is it?"

Henry shook his head. "Tomorrow."

"All right then," Cecily said. "I guess I'll sleep better in my own bed than in history class. And," she flushed, remembering her manners, "thank you."

Henry waited until Robin and the others left, Cecily holding Aggie tightly on horseback, Roland on his father's shoulders, and Skippy living up to his nickname as he pranced about Robin, peppering him excitedly with questions faster than the outlaw could answer them.

Finally, he turned to Belle and Rumple with a sigh. "I guess I ought to head over to my mom's," he said. "Uh… you need me to do anything before I go?"

Rumple shook his head. "Thank you, no. I think that after last night, a bit of rest will do all of us some good." As they moved from the vestibule into the front hallway, he glanced into the living room and noted something on the coffee table. "Though should you encounter the captain before I do, you might mention to him that he left something behind other than the horse he rode to come here."

"Uh, sure," Henry said. "But if he asks me what...?"

Rumple smiled. "He oughtn't. But if he should, just tell him that he'll be enlightened on his return here."

"Okay…" Henry said. Then, a moment later, "Grandpa? What you were saying before? Do you… still know how to ride a horse?"

A startled laugh escaped him. "I'm not sure I could now," he said. "It's been more years than I'd care to count since I attempted it and it was more, shall we say, an exercise in not falling off than in riding. And I must confess it's not something I've attempted since my injury," he added with a wince. "But," he continued, "I suppose that, in theory, at least, I do. Why do you ask?"

Henry sighed wistfully. "Did you see Cecily just now? She looked… great up there. I didn't even know she could ride. And Grandpa—I mean, my other grandpa—was going to teach me, but first he wanted me to learn how to look after my horse and muck out his stall—"

"Both important tasks to master, I'd agree," Rumple nodded.

"Yeah, but then, well, Dr. Whale brought Daniel back and he kind of spooked me. And maybe the horse, too. And then, uh, we all…" He hesitated. "We went to New York. And then I got kidnapped and you followed me to Neverland. And then, Pan switched bodies with me, and cast the Dark Curse and…" He shook his head. "I guess I never got back to learning and now, with the new baby and Grandpa being co-sheriff and all…" He sighed again. "I don't think he's going to have time to teach me for a while. I don't even know if my horse came back with the second Curse or if he stayed in the Enchanted Forest."

Rumple pressed his lips together. "Well, Henry. I'd say that finding out whether he did would be the first order of business. Otherwise, I fear there's little to discuss until you obtain a suitable mount. Once you have," he looked at Belle, "I believe that riding was often the pursuit of noblewomen?"

"I-I'm no expert," Belle murmured with a slight smile. "But yes, I can ride. I don't know if I can teach, though."

Rumple was smiling as well now. "You know how to ride. I know how to teach. Surely, if we put our heads together, we might manage some sort of plan?"

Belle slipped her hand into her husband's. "We might," she said slowly. "But maybe we could hash it out in a few hours? I could really use a bit of sleep right now."

"As could we all," Rumple intoned, still smiling.

Henry had been listening hopefully. Now he grinned. "Sorry. I didn't mean to keep you up. And I'll find out about my horse. And if I still have one…"

"Then we shall see," Rumple said. "But I daresay we could arrange some manner of instruction."

Henry's grin broadened. "Thanks, Grandpa; you're the best! I mean you both are! I mean… Uh… I'd better let you get some rest." He darted into the living room and emerged seconds later with his knapsack. "Thanks for everything," he added.

Rumple, looking vaguely stunned, managed an answering smile. "You… you're quite welcome. Uh… any… time," he added, his astonishment only growing at his grandson's enthusiastic nod.

After Henry had gone, he turned to Belle. "I don't know that I've heard that said about me before," he murmured.

Belle leaned her head against his shoulder. "I have a feeling you might start hearing it more often," she murmured back, closing her eyes. She was laughing a little as he slid an arm about her waist and guided her toward the staircase.

Once Lily got over the strangeness of having meat that wasn't bacon for breakfast, she discovered that she quite enjoyed venison—even if she'd never imagined eating it in a pie with sweet spices, wine and dried fruit. There was another kind of frumenty, a savory one this time that had the consistency of pilaf instead of porridge, which she rather liked. Actually, dried fruit, cinnamon, ginger, and some sort of alcohol—wine, beer, ale, or cider for the most part—seemed to be present in most of the dishes, whether protein or carb-based. It wasn't any kind of cuisine she was used to, but she found herself going back to put more on her plate.

Finally, she leaned back with a sigh of contentment, belched, excused herself, and asked, "So. What now?"

Maleficent smiled at her daughter and said nothing for a moment. Then she blinked. "Sorry. You're so beautiful. I-I'm sorry. I just… just…" She exhaled. "You are. That's all."

She wasn't used to hearing compliments directed her way. Like the breakfast, it was strange. Not unpleasant, but nothing like anything she was used to. To cover her discomfiture, she pretended she hadn't heard. "How are we going to get revenge on Snow White and Prince Charming?"

Maleficent shook her head, still smiling. "Now that I see you," she said warmly, "I don't want to waste our time on revenge. While I can understand why it's important to you, it's suddenly so clear that we should only look forward."

Lily stood up from the table, her eyes blazing. "Seriously?" she demanded. "We're going to let them get away with this?"

Maleficent nodded. "We have a choice, Lily. We can be happy in the future, or we can be angry about the past."

"Can't we do both?" Lily snapped back. "Look, all these years since I figured out what happened, I-I've been trying to figure out how two humans could get me away from a freaking dragon. But now, I get it. You're a pushover." She registered the hurt in her mother's eyes, but kept going. "What'd they do, rub your belly? Give you a dragon treat?"

"Lily!" Maleficent exclaimed. "No. I did everything I could. But all I want to do now is enjoy our time together. I'm your mother. I-I missed so much that can never be recovered. I don't want to miss more."

"Sorry, Mommy," Lily retorted sarcastically. "I'm grown up now. I don't need fashion tips from Olga Mara or Morticia Adams or-or whoever wore that look first. I gotta go." She spun on her heel and headed for the passage beyond the chamber in which they were situated."

Maleficent hurried after her. "Wait! Wait. Please. These tunnels are a maze. You don't know how to find the exit."

"I'll take my chances."

"But you'll stay in town?"

Lily's lip curled bitterly. "What for?"

"Lily. Please. Regina explained it to me. This town has a protection spell around it. If you go, if you leave town, you'll never find your way back here again. And I can't leave at all. I'll crumble back into the dust that I was before I was revived."

Lily absorbed that. For a moment, she debated whether to tell her mother that she'd gotten past the protection spell once and could probably do it again. But why build up false hope? It wasn't as if she was planning on coming back here. She'd been expecting someone like Smaug, not Puff the Magic Dragon, for crying out loud! "Man," she snorted finally. "That's a bummer."

"Please!" Maleficent started forward again, but stopped short when she saw the look in her daughter's eyes. "Please," she said, stretching out her hand, but coming no closer. "Can't you wait just a little while longer? Things could look different in a week."

Lily hesitated. Maybe Maleficent was talking sense. Maybe there was more out there for her besides vengeance. Maybe. But maybe not. And Lily had been dreaming of vengeance for nearly half her life. She couldn't put that aside now. And if her mother wasn't going to help her achieve it, then she had no reason to stay here. "Send me a postcard," she said. Then she turned and nearly ran out of the chamber.

Maleficent watched her go, not sure whether she should give chase or give space. By the time she'd made up her mind to go after her daughter, the passage was empty. And though she listened and sniffed the air, she found no clue as to Lily's whereabouts. Fairy dust, she thought bitterly. The residue had a way of dampening her dragon senses. Sadly, she withdrew back into the chamber. She didn't know where Lily was, and Regina would be back soon. Perhaps, her old friend would have some idea of how to track her daughter now. And perhaps, by the time they found her, Lily would have calmed down enough to listen. "Oh, Lily," she whispered, "please, don't let me lose you now that I've finally found you. Not again."

Lily didn't know where she was going, she just ran. Which, she thought bitterly, was kind of the story of her life. When times got tough, when things got hairy, she just hopped a bus or hitched a ride and found some new place to try her luck.

She'd really thought that this would be it. That she'd finally get her happily ever after and see everyone who was responsible for her whole messed-up life pay.

Nothing was working out the way she'd thought it would. Sure, her mother was a fire-breathing dragon, but all she seemed to want to do was light a campfire and toast s'mores. Ursula had abandoned her. Cruella was dead—not that Lily was chuffed about it or anything, but she was still on her own again. She rounded a corner and stopped inches from the edge of a crevasse. What the hell was that doing there? Lucky thing she'd seen it in time. Wait. How had she seen it? She was underground. There was no sunlight and while there had been torches in the chamber in which she'd awakened, there were none about her. She looked around wildly and realized that the walls seemed to be festooned with pink glitter. Glitter that gave off a pearly luminescent glow of its own, she realized. Hesitantly, she brought her hand to the wall. It came away covered with a fine layer of the stuff. She frowned, trying to think whether it was just here, or whether it had been around here all along. Cautiously, she turned back the way she'd come. Yes, there was more of that glittery stuff and… And she was hearing something in the distance. A muffled chink, like metal on rock, she identified with a frown.

For a moment, she hesitated, debating whether she wanted to know what—or who—might be making that sound. She doubted it was her mother. And if there was anyone else down here, then they might know the way out. And if there wasn't, well, at least she had something to track now, which had to be better than running blindly and nearly falling into crevasses. Especially pink glittery ones.

She took a breath, and set off in the direction of the sound, stopping only to pick up a large rock from the ground to carry with her. If the source of the sound turned out to be trouble, she wasn't about to be caught defenseless.

As soon as they made it up the stairs and into the master bedroom, whatever energy Belle had left seemed to drain away. "I need sleep," she mumbled.

Rumple nodded agreement. "I rather thought that you might doze off at the table," he remarked. "I'm sorry. Perhaps if I'd thought to warn you before we arrived home, Granny's would have been the better option, after all." At Belle's questioning look, he added, "You'd already be in bed by now."

Belle placed her hand over his. "And miss seeing you with Roland and Aggie and the others?" she demanded. "Not for all the books in the library." She winced. "Or what's left of them after last night, anyway."

"Perhaps much can be salvaged. Or replaced," Rumple said, placing his free hand over hers. "And as for the guests, well, I'm sure Henry's played some small part in, um, rehabilitating my reputation."

"I don't think it's been only Henry."

"Well, yes," Rumple allowed. "Emma has some influence as well, though not as much with the youth in this town."

"No," Belle said, smiling softly. "I wasn't thinking of Emma, either." Rumple's eyes widened and Belle started to laugh, but ended up yawning instead. "I think I'd better get my nightgown and get washed up," she murmured.

Rumple nodded and went to retrieve his own sleepwear from the dresser

"Rumple?" Belle murmured.

"Hmmm?"

"The first time you killed someone," she whispered, "did you ever wish you hadn't?"

Rumple turned away from the open drawer, returned to where she was standing, and slid his arm about her waist. "The first time?" he repeated. "No. The first person I killed was the man who'd brutally beaten me for a minor lapse, who'd taunted and humiliated me in front of my son, and who would have marched Bae off to fight in a war where he was certain to be killed. No, I've no regrets over snapping his neck, not even now." He winced. "The second time, however, was a different story."

"How did you… move past it?"

Rumple closed his eyes. He didn't really want to talk about those details. And he didn't actually regret killing Beowulf. But he probably wouldn't have done it—not at that point—had matters been up to him. He understood that Belle was asking for tools that she might use to come to terms with her recent actions and he knew that telling her the entire story wouldn't help her find them. Still, he thought for a moment and found something that might. "Well," he said at last, "I knew that under the circumstances, there was no choice." He shook his head sadly. "Though I must admit that it took me some time to accept that."

No, he wasn't lying. And any qualms he might have had at intentionally misleading her about what precisely had happened on that occasion fell away when she leaned into him and squeezed his hand once more.

Lily made her way cautiously toward the sound, her heart seeming to pound more heavily with each step. She didn't know where she was going or how to get back or how to get out. She had no idea what else might be down here. And she knew her rock wasn't much of a weapon. She slid her free hand into her pocket and reassured herself that the mace was still there and not back in that weird fun-house mirror maze. . Then she continued her advance.

Rounding the corner, she found the source of the sound. A man—roughly her own age, she thought—was swinging a pickaxe at the walls, jarring loose some sort of pink crystals. He wore a purple hat, a Geronimo Jackson shirt, blue canvas work pants, and an affable smile.

"Uh… hi," she said softly, taking a few steps nearer.

Startled, the man whirled toward her.

"I don't suppose you know the way out of here?" Lily asked.

The man regarded her for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly.

"Uh… could you tell me, then?"

The man shook his head.

For a moment, Lily felt her anger rise up again. Then realization hit her. "You… can't talk, can you?"

The man shook his head again.

"Well, uh… could you show me?"

A silly smile spread across his face and he bobbed his head energetically.

Lily smiled back, partly out of relief, and partly because silly though the smile might be, it seemed to light up the little man's face and she couldn't help but feel warmed by it. "I'm Lily, by the way."

For answer, the man held up his pickaxe horizontally, one hand near the top, one near the blade and held it out to her.

"Uh… you need me to dig?" she guessed with dismay.

Still smiling, the man shook his head and held it out again.

"Okay…" Lily said. Somewhere at the back of her mind was the idea that she probably shouldn't get too chummy with a guy who smiled too much while brandishing a pickaxe, but he hadn't done anything remotely threatening yet. "You want me to take this from you," she guessed again.

He shook his head again, but a bit less vigorously. For a moment, his smile dimmed a bit. Then he took his hand away from the top of the implement and ran his finger along the side of the handle that faced him.

"You… want me to see something on the handle?"

Suddenly the man slapped his forehead and doubled over in silent laughter. Then he reversed the pickaxe so that the other side faced her.

"Dopey," Lily read aloud. "Dopey? Is that really your name?" she demanded, a note of anger creeping into her voice.

The smile seemed to freeze on his face and he nodded uncertainly.

Lily exhaled. "Sorry. It's just, well, that's a hell of a thing to call anyone. What kind of parent sticks a kid with a name like that?" She sniffed. "And I thought 'Lilith' was bad when I found out what it meant."

Dopey pointed to the pickaxe.

"Yeah, it says 'Dopey'," Lily said. "But that doesn't mean that's who you are. I mean, it's not like it named you, right?"

Dopey pointed to his name again, nodding vigorously.

"Wait. Are you trying to tell me that your axe gave you your name?"

He nodded again.

"No," Lily shook her head. "Someone must've written it on the axe and gave it to you, right?"

Dopey shook his head patiently and pointed again at the pickaxe.

"But that's not possible!" Lily exclaimed.

Dopey shrugged. Then he swung the axe up so that the blade rested just above his shoulder and started marching down a passageway to her left. After a few steps, he glanced back over his shoulder and beckoned to her to follow.

After a second's hesitation, Lily obeyed, falling into step behind her new friend. She didn't know why she trusted him, but she had the sense that he was trying to help.

And if her instincts were off, she still had her mace.

In her dreams, Belle sat next to her husband in a movie theater in Greenwich Village watching a musical romance between a naïve orphan and a disabled war veteran turned puppeteer. She smiled as the music started up again and the young woman opened her mouth to sing. But instead of words, the sound that came forth from her lips was akin to a ringtone. Her ringtone, Belle realized as she woke up. After she and Rumple had finally reconciled, she'd reset her ringtone to 'Hi Lili Hi Lo' and it was ringing now.

Groaning, she reached for her phone, feeling a pang as she felt Rumple stirring beside her. She should have turned off the phone before going to bed, she thought, as she looked at the caller ID.

It was the hospital. Wide awake at once, she picked up. "Hello? No, Doctor Whale, that's okay, I…" She forced a smile onto her face and into her voice. "Thank you, Doctor. Tell him… tell him I'll be there as soon as I can."

She ended the call and turned to face her husband. "As you heard," she said, "that was the hospital. Father's awake." Her smile was strained.

Rumple smiled back. "Some good news, at least," he remarked. His smile fell away. "What's the matter?"

Belle heaved a heavy sigh. "Nothing," she said, lying badly. "I'm glad he's awake. I am."

"Well, I'm glad that's established," Rumple prompted. "So…"

"So," Belle took another breath. "So, I meant everything we discussed earlier. He's not moving in here. I'm not moving in there."

Rumple nodded encouragingly. "And…?"

Belle winced and reached for his hand. "And now? I have to tell him."