Keeping himself away from Belle was the key. That day, in front of the mirror, things had gone a lot farther than they should have, he'd let himself touch her and therefore allowed himself to be intoxicated, something that never should have happened in the first place. Not to mention that after his mind had cleared of her scent and skin, he realized that she'd asked him a question about something she shouldn't have known. His family. Not a wife or a child. A family. How she'd known or figured it out was a great mystery. And a greater mystery was why he'd answered her question as honestly as he had. He hadn't given an entire truth, he hadn't fallen into her arms and given her his entire life's story. But what terrified him after that encounter was that he'd wanted to. He'd wanted so badly to tell her, to watch the look on her face as he confessed all his secrets, he wanted to see how she'd handle them. Would she use them against him as Zelena had? Store them away for a rainy day, as he often suspected Cora was? Or would she give that smile she so often did with others, put a hand on his arm and…

It was a close call, without a doubt. One that he couldn't afford. So, his plan was to stay busy, to not touch her as he had that day ever again, and to keep his mind occupied on other matters, matters that were important to the future, not the present.

Fortunately for him, it proved easier than he'd expected. He'd felt a stirring lately, just in the last few days, one that had nothing to do with his maid. The Seer was anxious, excited almost. He felt almost like she was whispering in his ear every moment of every day. The problem was that the whispering was so rapid and low he couldn't make out words. It was a buzzing. No, he couldn't make out the words, but it left him with a feeling that he could read all too easily, loud and clear.

Get ready.

Something was about to happen.

At first, it had frightened him. He'd felt anxious right along with the Seer and panicked; he wasn't ready for the Curse to hit yet. There were things to be done he hadn't prepared, contacts he hadn't made, potions he hadn't concocted. It took him six hours one night at the wheel to calm himself down, to remind himself that the Curse wasn't going to be cast tomorrow. There were multiple phases in this plan of his. Perhaps one of those phases was simply going to come to pass. He would do what he could. For him, that meant restocking his potions; making sure he had all his ingredients, brewing extras of the common ones he used all the time, and finding a black bag which he marked with his blood to put others in so that they might find him in the new world. He'd done well. Still, one thing remained missing, which was how he found himself in the middle of the night with a cloak drawn up against his face making back alley deal with his fastest connection to squid ink.

Clopin was a gypsy, not unlike the one he'd taken his original fairy wands from. However, Clopin's talents were not in singing or dancing as so many did, he was trafficker who disguised himself as a peddler. By day Clopin could be found anywhere around the Kingdom pushing a cart that held simple wares, by night, the cloth came off of that cart, secret compartments opened, and the lowest of the low knew to find him for anything they wanted to sell or buy. For the right price, Clopin had it all. Potions, squid ink, precious and rare flowers, books, weapons, foreign currency, a book from another realm, and, perhaps most notable of all, flesh.

It took him three days to locate the gypsy. Clopin moved about every day, he could be a tricky man to find. He had a special kind of magic that helped him keep his position hidden and for good reason. Somehow he always found him pushing his cart amongst large groups of people; sometimes half a dozen, other times three dozen. They were always ragged and sickly looking. Since he always met with Clopin at night, he always found them a fair distance from him, by a campfire, surrounded by makeshift tents, and dressed in gypsy clothes that did not fit. Clopin was a master of words, and he always told any authorities they were gypsies too, but he knew it wasn't true. They were often refugees from other realms. He wasn't sure of Clopin's connection, the man was too tight-lipped in that area and too valuable an ally to threaten, but sensing no magic on the man, he knew that someone brought them into this realm and it was Clopin's job to take them to a safe place, to settle them in their realm…for a price, as always.

"Where's this lot going?" he questioned, looking over the selection he had in the back of his cart tonight. Squid ink was among the many items he had, and the man was just now preparing it, pouring two vials for him from the large flask that he had. He was taking his time, a habit that he'd often noted Clopin had, he suspected, so that his customers would have time to look over his other products. It usually didn't work for him, but on this occasion, he couldn't help but notice that he had a fine selection of books. It wasn't surprising. It was Clopin who had once traded him for the book from the Land Without Magic that Belle had loved so much. He had promised her he'd look for more by that author, but none of the books in his cart revealed had the last name Lewis. Still, she'd always be happy with a new story to indulge in.

"Destined for King George's Kingdom."

"King George's Kingdom?" he blanched. "Hardly a profitable destination for them. Where are they from?"

"Oh…a realm not unlike ours, I'm told…just as I'm told that soon King George's Kingdom won't be 'hardly profitable'," he smiled as he handed over the vials.

He knew smiles like that, he used them all the time. It was a smile that demanded he ask "what have you heard?"

But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the gypsy sighed and turned his attention back to his cart, sealing the flask the ink was in and hiding it away as if he hadn't heard him. Rumple rolled his eyes, and after safely pocketing the vials, he pulled out a small coin purse and put two coins on the cart right under the man's nose. Everything was expensive with him…

"What have you heard?" he pressed again as Clopin safely put the coins away.

"I've heard King Midas has a dragon in his Kingdom."

"And how does a Dragon in a foreign Kingdom help our good King George?"

"Because the Golden King's wealth is his greatest asset. And gold isn't strength or braun, gold can't slay a dragon, just ask his daughter's former fiancé. Truth be told, the gold only draws the beast more to that Kingdom. But King George's son-"

"Prince James."

"The one and only. The boy is a strong fighter, handy with a sword. I've heard that Midas seeks to use the boy in order to slay the fearsome beast, and in return, Midas will shower the boy with something a bit softer than mere gold."

He let out a small giggle. First, because Clopin had no idea that James was not a "one and only" as he'd suggested, but second because his hint was loud and clear to him, especially since he recently had an experience of his own with a forbidden prize that was softer than gold.

"Softer than gold…a woman?"

Clopin nodded. "His only daughter, the Princess Abigail."

"Now that would be an interesting turn of events indeed…"

"Indeed, it would benefit these people greatly. Land worth nothing now will be rolling in gold after a royal wedding."

That might be what the Seer was so anxious about. Was it possible something was about to happen? Finally? After all these years? Clopin was referencing a royal wedding for Abigail and Charming, but he knew that I would never come to pass. His future was tied to Snow White. He wasn't sure just how long it would take from their initial meeting to marriage, conception, then birth, with James and Snow, but he did know that if something was going to start soon, then it meant that could stop thinking about seeing Baelfire in decades, and begin to think about years. And that was the best news he'd had in a long time. It filled him with a joy he hadn't felt since his boy had left him.

"Anything else I can do for you?" Clopin asked. No. Not a thing. But with the joyous news, he was suddenly feeling generous.

"You've been very helpful…but perhaps I can offer you something, a piece of vital information in exchange for this…" he waved the book he'd picked up with Belle in mind. He probably shouldn't be thinking of getting her gifts, but if it would make her half as happy as he suddenly was…

Clopin glanced at the book, then crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "'Tis not but a trinket, taking up space on my cart, I'd have given it away for free if you only asked."

"Oh!" he smiled. He doubted if Clopin had ever given anything away for free in all his life. "Well then, in that case…"

"If you only asked!" Clopin called after him as he turned to leave with it. He turned back to see him standing there with a look of terror on his face at the very thought that he might have lost something expensive. "But, since you did ask, I'll take your offer. What have you heard?"

"Oh, it's not what I've heard, but rather what I've seen. King George's Kingdom will be profitable one day. It'll be a good place, ruled by a benevolent Queen and her Prince Charming, but before this day comes, war will strike." He turned to look at the people through the trees who were gathered around the fire, settling into spare blankets or under jackets, men, women, and even children. In another life, he might have been them. "Take these people, put them in the farthest corners of the Kingdom where they'll be safe from the bloodshed and the call of the draft."

"War…war with who?" Clopin questioned skeptically.

Now there was a sight…or rather a vision. With the question came a clear image in his head, one that was put there just as clearly as the image of the dark-haired man that knew Baelfire.

A line in the sand, on one side, Snow White and James and a thousand people dressed in rags and homemade armor. On the other side, a hundred people dressed in mail, Regina, and most shocking of all...

"The King himself," he answered with a smile.

He watched as the lines of confusion disappeared from his face and stretched into one of dead shock. His eyes widened, and his gaze drifted over to the people by the fire. "That is…some valuable information…"

"Especially for your trade routes."

"Indeed. Here, take this…" From a place in his wagon, he pulled out a round object, with string and feathers. If he was honest, it looked like a craft project done by a toddler, but the moment Clopin put it in his hand he could feel magic in it. "A dreamcatcher…or memory-catcher if you prefer. I believe you would be able to work magic like that."

He nodded. He didn't, not at the moment, but if there was one thing he was best at, it was learning how to work magic he didn't know. He may not know how to use it now, but he would. "How much?"

"After the information you just gave…take it! And the book. I'm in debt to you."

"I'll remember that…"

There was no good-bye; there never was. They merely nodded at each other, then he took his ink, and catcher, and book, and sauntered into the forest. He never liked to disappear entirely from the sight of the strangers, for fear of association with Clopin. Not that the strangers ever knew who he was, new to this world as they were. He had yet to ever meet one that-

As he passed close to the fire, he heard the gasp of a small child. Automatically he turned toward the noise, half expecting to see a tearful toddler, but what he saw was a small boy of about six standing by the fire, looking him dead in the eye. The child seemed frozen in fear. All around him adults were hunkered down under anything they could call a blanket, but the boy stared at him with his jaw hanging open.

"Problem," the Seer whispered in his head.

"The Dark One…"

Now it was his turn to be shocked, to go wide-eyed. No one ever knew him…how did a small boy know who he was?

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity that forced time to push forward. "Mommy!" the child cried, turning away from him. "Mommy! Mommy!" As the boy shrieked, he pulled his cloak quickly over his face and went into the dark of the forest where the fire wouldn't unveil him. "The Dark One! Mommy, it's the Dark One! I saw him!"

"What's going on?"

"What's happening?"

"What's the boy crying for?"

"It's nothing," he heard someone explain as he ducked behind a tree and pressed his back against the bark to be sure that he wouldn't be seen. "I'm sorry," a woman said, "he has this book he reads from our world, it's just stories."

A book? A book from their world? About him?

"It's not just stories!" he heard the boy cry. "The book says he lives here!"

A book from their world that mentioned him? That said he lived there?

"Jacob Horner-"

"It's true, Mommy! Look! It says right here! He lives here! He'll steal your eyes and eat you!"

"Jack…I think maybe I ought to take it. I'm sorry everyone…I think we might be taking our reading a bit too seriously."

"No! No! No, Mommy! No!" the boy cried. "Mommy, it has the story in it! It tells how he becomes not the Dark One anymore! Mommy, I have to keep it.

From behind, he heard a low rumble of laughter. They didn't believe the child, not yet anyway. They hadn't been here long enough to know that he had told them the truth. They were dismissing his claim, but he was practically salivating. A book from another world that mentioned him. Worse, a book that mentioned how he wouldn't be the Dark One anymore? From within his boot, he could feel his dagger pressing close against his leg. He wanted to see that book. He wanted to read that book. He needed it.

His heart was racing when he turned around and observed the scene by the fire. At a distance once more, it was difficult to see what was happening. Half the camp was settling back into sleep and ignoring the cries of the small boy. The other half was watching as the boy who had seen him struggle with his mother. It was a game of tug-of-war, and at the center of it was a thick green book.

He wanted to cry out, to scream. It would be easy, so incredibly easy to freeze the scene he saw before him, swoop in, and simply take the book from their hands…but nothing was ever as simple as all that. The book was the star, at the center of everyone's attention. Taking it right out from under their noses would look suspicious. When they came around after being frozen and realized the book had disappeared, he would be the first suspect. And if what the book said was true and the boy knew and told them, taking it now would be a problem. It could be a very real problem. But to ignore it and let the child go out into the world with it without knowing what was inside its pages…he couldn't let that stand.

He couldn't take it from the child now, but fortunately, he knew where they were heading. And it was clear from the way the boy clung to his novel that where he was, so would be that book.

This chapter probably doesn't make sense right now, my hope is that for long term Moments readers it will soon. This is actually working to set up a very important plot point from Moments Beyond. Like I said in the beginning, this story had a lot to accomplish and sometimes I have to put "set-up" chapters in. This one is sort of a set up to the set up. I think you'll like the last of it's chapters when it comes up, but that's not for a bit. Jack Horner's chapters are few and far between in this fiction. He'll be back soon enough, but not enough to overwhelm the next episode we're going to cover, which this chapter also hints at!

Thank you Jennifer Baratta, Grace5231973, and Alarda for your review on the last chapter. "Oh Rumple", indeed. This one should also give you that sort of feeling. I had a lot of fun in the Rumbelle section of having him make a point not to do something where Belle is concerned, then quickly turn around and do it. "I need to stay away from Belle, keep my distance, stop thinking about her...oh look, a book that I'm sure Belle will like as a present!" Good job, Rumple. Well done. Peace and Happy Reading!