The Two of Pentacles tarot card depicts a young man juggling two coins (pentacles) between his hands, contained within the loops of the "infinity" symbol. Your attention may be divided between different things, but they're all important. Keep it moving, keep it balanced, pay attention.
Alice's father lay dying on the floor, but Ivy turned her back on him and went with her sister to help a near stranger — one who had once helped Hansel try to kill her back in the wish realm. Alice had saved Ivy then, but Alice, generous soul that she was, would want to save Facilier now. For Alice's sake, Ivy had to try. Even if it meant abandoning Alice when she needed—
Damn Gothel for forcing Ivy into another terrible choice. Ivy took a deep breath, shaking off her useless thoughts. Stacy needed her, too, and Stacy had evidently forged some connection to Samdi as a fellow victim of Gothel's schemes. Ivy could do nothing for Rogers, but perhaps she could do something to help Stacy.
Roni knelt by Samdi's side, one hand pressed lightly against his forehead, magic shooting out from her fingers in purple streaks. She glanced back at Ivy and Stacy. "He won't wake up. I healed him, there's nothing wrong with him physically. I don't know—"
Stacy calmed Roni with a touch to her shoulder. "It'll be all right."
"What the hell did Gothel do to him?" Roni's spell faded, having had no apparent effect on Samdi's state.
"She needed his power. The Tree was dead, I mean, dead for a really long time, and he could bring it back. She showed me..." Stacy's voice trailed off, and her eyes turned blank under a flare of green light.
Alarmed, Ivy seized her by the elbow. "Stacy! Earth to Stacy, hey!"
"Huh?" Stacy blinked. The eerie glow faded slowly from her eyes. "She said he had to go deep into darkness to find the last roots of the Tree. From darkness into light, the Tree spans heaven and hell. His mind must still be trapped inside. Look, up on the highest branch, do you see that crow? I think that's him — his soul, anyway."
Ivy and Roni followed Stacy's gaze. The Tree, impossibly tall, extended up in its own space. Ivy squinted upwards. Leaves and branches became indistinct black shapes against a bright, impossible sky. If one of those shapes was a crow, she couldn't tell.
"She said he was a savior, that he had been reborn as a child of the Great Tree. That it was his destiny to bring back the happy endings that were stolen by the humans."
"So now we can't have any?" Roni glared at Stacy so fiercely that Ivy instinctively moved to shield her sister. "And what about his happy ending?"
"Mother Gothel said—"
"'Mother'?" spat Roni. "Well, she wouldn't be the first mother to betray her child. What did she say?"
Stacy winced. "That he should be content to spend eternity in harmony with the Great Tree, that the Garden would be his home now."
"And what did he say to that?"
"He..." Stacy faltered, swallowed. Ivy squeezed her arm, and after a moment Stacy said in a low voice, "He said he would find a way to break free."
"And he will." Roni kept her eyes pinned on Stacy. "Bring him back!"
Stacy glanced at Ivy. "I... I'm not sure I can. I barely got out myself."
"We'll help you." Ivy looked at Roni. "You still have your magic. If you add your power to Stacy's, that should be enough." She took a breath, gathering her thoughts. "I was Gothel's student once. I still remember her paths into the Green. You'll have to use the amulet, Stacy."
With Ivy serving as the anchor, the combined efforts of Stacy and the former Evil Queen propelled them far enough into the mythical space of the Tree to find Samdi's soul and return. Samdi sat up abruptly with the shocked gasp of the resurrected.
"Facilier!" Roni moved at once to help him stand, Ivy and Stacy forgotten.
Still unsteady on his feet, Samdi swayed, then nearly collapsed, leaning heavily against Roni in a tight embrace. "Regina. I'm sorry. I had hoped to keep Gothel away from you."
"I was the one who gave you to her..."
"You didn't know," Samdi said, and more, but Ivy had stopped listening. Stacy stood unmoving, and for a moment Ivy saw a small tree where the girl had been.
"Stacy!"
Then the tree shifted, arms and legs and head human again. "What?"
"You all right?" Ivy examined her sister. "You're still looking a little spaced out."
Stacy shook her head. "I'll be fine. What about your friend...?" She peered past Ivy.
"Ah." Ivy told herself that Alice and Rumplestiltskin were the kings of loopholes and thinking outside the rules, so if anyone could save Hook, it would be those two. But she had nothing to support that hope beyond a few half-heard bits of conversation while she had been helping her sister. "Let's go see."
To her relief, everyone looked alive and healthy. Alice flashed a broad grin at her, and Ivy answered with a congratulatory hug. "You saved him. I knew you could!"
"They saved themselves," Alice said.
"Couldn't have done it without you, Starfish," said Rogers. The Dark Curse had softened some of the sharp, brutal edges of Captain Hook and made the detective a warmer, kinder version of himself, even after his memories were restored.
It hadn't had as drastic an effect on the former Dark One, but Weaver, too, seemed more approachable than the imp of the Enchanted Forest. At least, to the extent that he was standing shoulder to shoulder with his former enemy. Ivy noted the way they looked at each other and thought, So that's how it is now, is it? but didn't say anything out loud.
Weaver looked past Ivy. "Regina. And... Mr. Samdi. Congratulations on your speedy recovery."
"Congratulations are premature," said Samdi. "You owe me a favor."
Everyone suddenly went quiet. Even Neal and Henry, who had been deep in their own conversation, turned at the abrupt silence. Ivy looked from Weaver to Samdi and Roni, then back again, but didn't dare say anything.
"I do," Weaver said evenly. He waved a hand in invitation. "Ask away."
Rogers tensed visibly, a hand gripping Weaver's shoulder. "Be careful."
Samdi didn't take his eyes off Weaver. "You have in your possession a blade forged in the fires of heaven."
Weaver scoffed. A flick of his wrist brought the dagger into his hand. "What, this old thing?"
"You can't give that to him!" Neal started forward, but Weaver ordered him back with a narrow-eyed glance. "Papa, you..." He seemed at a loss for words, then shook his head. "It's never a good thing when someone else has that thing."
"I made a deal," Weaver said, his face expressionless. "Are you asking for the dagger, Mr. Samdi?"
"Yes." Samdi smiled and held out his hand. "If you please..."
"If you're hoping to harness the powers of the Dark One, I fear you'll be disappointed." Weaver stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
"My hopes are no concern of yours." Samdi's smile deepened as Weaver dropped the dagger into Samdi's palm.
As Weaver stepped back empty-handed, Ivy really really hoped that it was true. What did Samdi hope for? She had no idea.
The book turned out to be the key.
Nick drove up and down the highway, passing three times through the point where he knew Storybrooke had to be, seeing nothing but road and forest and the rare car or truck passing the other way. The fourth time, he had the book open on his lap in an attempt to correlate one of the illustrations with the landscape in front of him.
And there it was. "Entering Storybrooke" on a green sign like dozens Nick had driven past on his way across the country, and then the orange line spray-painted across the road, the first hint that no, this town wasn't like any other in this land.
"Yes!" Nick pumped his fist in triumph as the car rolled across the line. The book slid from his lap, but the changes persisted. Instead of an empty stretch of forest, he found himself driving into the outer edges of a quaint little seaside town in Maine that was somehow also a piece of the Enchanted Forest.
He had read enough to know to stay away from gossip central, a.k.a. Granny's, turning off the highway before he hit Main Street. He found an empty cabin in the woods, relieved to have another of his guesses about the features of Storybrooke confirmed. It would serve as a base of operations while he got the lay of the land.
He ventured into town as unobtrusively as he could. When asked, he mumbled something about going through a magic door and ending up in Storybrooke, but he was rarely asked. A couple years of peace had left the authorities complacent, and a steady trickle of harmless incomers from the Land of Untold Stories made it easy to blend in.
It was harder to keep his cover when he actually saw the Evil Queen walk into the diner — accompanied by Henry's mother, the two of them laughing at some shared joke. Nick could only grit his teeth and duck out of sight around a corner. They were really here! Later, he saw Snow White and Charming strolling down the street, a toddler in tow, all alive and well.
This version of the Evil Queen had had the raising of Henry by birth. It wasn't only fake memories induced by a curse, as it had been in Hyperion Heights. This Emma had given up her son as an infant. No wonder it was so easy to walk away from him a second time!
No one here even remembered the wish realm, as far as Nick could tell. Emma didn't spare a single thought for the son she had abandoned or the parents who had died to protect her. Was she really that heartless? Cautious questioning yielded answers that only turned his stomach. Snow White's family and the Evil Queen's family were one and the same, as far as Storybrooke was concerned. Everyone was happy to have the Evil Queen as their mayor, feeling that she had somehow redeemed herself. No one mentioned the atrocity she had committed in the other realm after her supposed redemption. Because no one cared.
It was one thing to read about it in a book; it was another to see, with his own eyes, the Evil Queen and the Savior sitting down to lunch together. And to see Henry Mills. Nick didn't dare approach him. A mere glimpse was enough to set him shaking. Henry. Not the Henry that Nick knew, not the Henry who had befriended Hansel when Hansel was a homeless orphan, but he was still undeniably just as real. Neither Henry deserved to lose a mother, but this Henry had two, both of them real and alive. Nick's Henry had only an illusion. He deserved better. Nick searched for traces of the princess he had known in the stranger he found in Storybrooke, but found scant evidence that she had ever existed. So who was this Emma Swan? The Savior? What did that even mean?
Savior of what? Thinking about it, Hansel didn't believe in it. Henry Mills had been the one to find his mother and bring her to Storybrooke. Even then, she had denied the truth, and only Henry's sacrifice had bought her belief. In Nick's view, Henry was the one who broke the first Dark Curse, just as the Henry in the wish realm had cast the curse, saving them all from oblivion.
Henry was the true savior, even if he didn't fight in any stupid "Final Battle" to fill out the pages in a prophetic storybook.
Nick continued watching and planning. Some faces from the book were missing: the pirate had gone, as had the Dark One and his wife and child. Town gossip had it that Emma and Killian Jones had separated, while the Dark One had left to travel the world. The fairies kept to themselves, except for one who had taken up the librarian's post. Luckily for Nick, she was sweet but unobservant, which made it that much easier for him to sneak past her into the library clock tower.
As he had hoped, the tower still held traces of dark fairy dust, the last residue of the Black Fairy's casting of the Dark Curse. Hansel picked the faded grains out of hairline cracks and crevices in the floor and walls. It was the one ingredient he had never been able to obtain in the wish realm, the one listed last on the formula for a witch hunter's potion that could render a magic user helpless.
Merasha.
The other ingredients he had acquired on his way to Maine: some plucked wild from field or forest, others bought bottled, and the rest scavenged as opportunity permitted. Now he had enough dark fairy dust to brew half a dozen doses. It could be formulated to be smeared on a weapon or needle to be delivered into the blood, or to be ingested. That was the next part of his plan.
Not only did Emma Swan and the Evil Queen occasionally eat at the diner, they also held so-called "Saturday town council meetings" as mayor and sheriff at Emma's house. This was one of the Storybrooke traditions that no one spoke too loudly about, but Nick remembered Graham's story in the book. Unlike the Huntsman, Emma's happiness looked genuine, so if the Evil Queen had her heart, it was not by force. And instead of sneaking off, the Evil Queen called out to order Chinese food, pizza, or another of Storybrooke's limited selection of to-go options.
And what about Henry's father? Nick wondered, much less the pirate she had actually married. Would she remember herself if she saw Baelfire?
Well, that didn't matter as much as whether Henry would remember himself if he saw Emma. Nick hoped that she was still Savior enough to break the curse if he brought her to Hyperion Heights. He would bring the Evil Queen, too, for Henry to pass judgement on, once he was awake. After that, the two versions of Henry would be on equal ground to confront their birth mother and see who she really was.
On Saturday, Nick intercepted the delivery boy before he reached Emma's house. "I'm a friend of Henry's. It's sort of a prank..."
A quick exchange of money and food, then a detour to apply the merasha, then food delivered, and it was a matter of waiting for the potion to take effect. Half an hour later, the two women were bound and gagged, then wrangled one at a time into the trunk of Nick's car. Then he was on his way out of town.
Almost.
He had one more stop. One more visit, that was for himself, and not for Henry. He pulled up to the farmhouse on the outskirts. He had a knife prepared with merasha. She was supposed to have lost her magic, but Hansel wasn't going to risk it. Not against Zelena.
Rumplestiltskin felt the magic tighten around his soul, an all-too familiar feeling of helplessness eroding the shell of Detective Weaver. He was no one, nothing but a name. How much of the spinner was left after all these years? Rumplestiltskin was just the spirit of the blade, a weapon to be wielded.
He waited.
But his son and his partner stood beside him, and a touch on his arm told him that he was not alone. So he could wait.
Samdi smiled, his eyes tracing the name on the dagger. "So."
"I didn't promise you anything," said Rogers.
"Or me." Neal took a step forward, as if to shield his father.
Rumplestiltskin moved his son out of the way without taking his gaze off Samdi. "It's all right, Bae. You didn't take the dagger to stab me with it, did you, Mr. Samdi?"
Samdi chuckled softly. "I'm not such a fool, to trade one binding for another."
"Then what?" There were limits to a favor. Rumplestiltskin fought back his fear. There must be a way — but Samdi knew. He knew, and if he threatened the people Rumplestiltskin cared about, he couldn't...
"Roni, please," Neal said. Clever boy, to realize that there was someone Samdi cared about as well.
Roni looked at them, a hint of longing crossing her face as her gaze focused on — Henry, Rumplestiltskin guessed — and then she turned to Samdi. "Will it work? You can use the dagger?"
For what? Rumplestiltskin could only wait for the answer.
"A temperamental old thing," mused Samdi. "Grail, sword, dagger... quick to judge and harsh in execution. No, I'll not tempt fate. I make no claim on it beyond borrowing its use this once. I think it will not deny me this miracle. I had no choice in the matter, and it's always respected our right to choose."
Rumplestiltskin let out a breath. It came to him, then, what he wanted. "If you cut yourself free..."
Samdi's gaze turned to him. "I will not be a slave."
"It will sever you from your immortality."
"A price you were willing to pay, Dark One."
"Ah, but I was mortal when I was born..."
Samdi shrugged. He shared a glance with Roni. "I've made my choice."
Rumplestiltskin nodded. So had they all. He was also Weaver, no matter what name was inscribed on the dagger. He took a step back.
Rogers tightened his hand around Weaver's arm and muttered, "What's he doing?"
"Gothel's pet savior is cutting his leash." He watched Samdi summon the power and channel it through the metal. "He's done what she required of him, this time. Next time... next time she'll have to find another."
"Will there be a next time?" asked Neal.
"If we're lucky, not until we're long gone." Weaver waited for Samdi to complete the spell. Darkness flared from the tip of the blade, expanding out in an icy wave that he felt in his bones. Then it was done, and Samdi handed the dagger back hilt-first. Weaver tucked it out of sight again, adding, "Mind you, it's the Dark One's dagger, not the Shears of Destiny. You may not find a savior's fate so easy to dodge."
"But at least I will be able to escape this place." Samdi smiled slightly, tipping an imaginary hat. "Thank you. I am repaid."
Weaver nodded. He turned to Stacy. "And you? Samdi wasn't the only one on a leash."
"Me?" Stacy shot him a startled look.
Before she could say more, Roni broke in sharply, "Be careful, kid. Nothing comes free where he's concerned." She glared at Weaver. "What's your price?"
Weaver rolled his eyes, taking mock offense. "Always so suspicious, dearie."
"Papa..." hissed Neal.
Weaver shook his head. "I have an understanding with Belfrey. I told her I'd do what I could for her daughter." He studied the girl, not sure how much she understood of what Gothel had done to her. "If I sever the binding, you can go back to Hyperion Heights. Be Stacy Belfrey. Live your life."
Stacy glanced uncertainly at her sister.
"It'll be all right." Ivy reached out to grip Stacy's hand.
"But the Garden," Stacy stammered. "I promised to guard it."
"You're only, what, fourteen?" said Weaver. "Too young to promise forever. Gothel had no right to ask that of you."
"I wanted to!" Stacy looked at Ivy again. "I know Gothel went too far, but she wasn't wrong. Humans are destroying everything. Someone needs to protect—"
"But you're just a kid," Ivy protested.
"Not anymore." Stacy touched the amulet she wore. "I... maybe it wasn't really me, but I remember. Their memories. The nymphs, the ones who were killed."
"But—"
"Besides, technically, I'm older than you." A grin cracked her lips. "Please, Ivy, it's the right thing to do."
"You won't be able to leave," Weaver reminded her. "This garden — all this little pocket of space — is an emanation of the Tree. Someday it may reach farther than the Seattle under-city, but who knows how long that will take? You'll be trapped."
"Stacy, you can't!"
"Sure I can," said Stacy. Then her voice faltered, "But you'll visit me, right?"
Ivy sighed. "Of course." She glanced at Weaver, but he could only confirm what she must already know. "You're sure?"
"Yeah. I'm sure."
Fourteen years old. Or uncounted millennia. Rumplestiltskin knew the feeling of remembering more years than you had lived. He could only hope that the ghosts of the nymphs had been gentler than the inrush of memories that came with the Dark One's curse. But fourteen was considered old enough to join the army, back in his homeland. Bae had been willing to fight (to die), and if not for Zoso's interference, Rumplestiltskin would have had no choice but to let him go. He saw the same willingness now in Stacy's eyes.
Old enough to choose? Old enough to understand her choice? He hadn't let Bae make that choice. It had saved his son's life, but also been the first step on the road to losing him. Centuries later, Bae had made his own choice, but that had ended in loss, again. Rumplestiltskin glanced at his son, so miraculously restored. Which choice had been right?
Stacy wasn't going to her death. Rumplestiltskin stepped back, accepting it. Stacy nodded at him, the look in her eyes too old for her face. One Guardian to another.
Ivy hugged her sister. "All right. If that's what you want. But what am I going to tell Mother?"
"Tell her not to worry about me."
"Well, we're not all dead," said Rogers cheerfully. "That's something, aye? Almost a happy ending..."
"It was the darkest curse," complained Roni. "It was meant to take away everyone's happy endings."
Weaver looked at her. "How else could I have convinced the Evil Queen to cast it? But Henry had different reasons..."
"Some happy ending." Henry stepped forward, a bitter frown on his face. "Did you forget, Dark One? You promised to help me."
"Ah. Your mother." Weaver didn't know how to continue.
"I know where she is," Neal spoke into the sudden silence. "She's in—"
"Storybrooke," Henry said. "And that's where Hansel went."
"Nick?" Roni frowned at Henry. "How would he know about that?"
"I gave him the book. The one Dad gave me. So that's where we have to go: Storybrooke, Maine."
Author's note: "Merasha" is the anti-magic drug from Katherine Kurtz's "Deryni" novels, tweaked slightly for my plot. Also, there is no CS baby-Hope in this version of season 7.