(13) Pieces
It's a woman. It's always a woman; the love of, in the end.
01.
Blood and blood and blood. Power, magic. A beautiful girl, and a shining son.
It's what he wanted, has always wanted; a once upon a time. Family, and Vengeance, and really, really, real True Love.
The concept of romanticism with its specific movements and ideals are what should matter most. It's the fairytale concept, and its notion of pretty resolutions, forgiveness, and a happily ever after.
But he's become blinded by cascades of curled gold, and distracted still by the circling motions of a pair of haunted and emerald-like orbs.
Priorities have altered.
This is him now. What he's become. The word's undone. He knows this, knows these things. Words were his craft, his gift, and his art form.
She's done this to him. Slipped in, and tore at the old cracks; made a bigger mess of things.
It's a woman. It's always a woman; the love of, in the end. He has a pattern; a common and ongoing tendency. She shouldn't have been one.
It's too late for that.
02.
Emma's pretty when she sleeps, prettier when she smiles.
Gold doesn't get to see the latter. Only stolen a few glimpses of it. She gives it openly to only one person, and it's not him.
He shouldn't be jealous of a child, but he is. It's sad, really, the things she has unintentionally done to him. The ways that she's reduced him.
It wasn't supposed to have played out like this.
She'd been a fleeting indulgence. And then she wasn't anymore. Suddenly she was more. Unforeseen, but even he can't predict these things.
Feelings have always been his blind spot; he'd made mistakes in the past because of them. It was a problem, it still was, apparently.
Because this was—Emma was—a loss of control. And control was a necessity, a required constant. Gold's not quite sure what to do now. Let it be, let it be. Or let it snap and be in pieces. He doesn't know what he wants.
Confliction is a burden. One he knows he can't afford.
He'd always had a plan, except when he hasn't. He's meticulously obsessive about that now. He can't make those same mistakes.
But he already has.
Emma's become a secret that he keeps. Close to the heart. There's no story to it, it's too simple for that. Gold kissed her once, and she kissed him back. It happened again, then again, and again after that. There's continuation and progression. There's nothing else to tell.
But still she's not what he expected, not at all. Emma was full of secrets. Just like him. Full of hidden meanings and subtle truths. There was more to her. But most of it was complicated and damaged, broken and flawed.
It fascinated Gold because she didn't really show it. Knew how to hide, and keep her lies on the surface. Maybe even better then him.
And he's always sought out and appreciated those with finer talents.
The woman on the outside was an allusion, a false image, a trick of the light. It would fool anyone—it did—if you didn't know how to look.
Gold thought he'd figured it out; the ways to see her. He's not so sure anymore. There's more to that. The implication of it worries him.
Emma can play the roles she needs and wants to—flawlessly, effortlessly—makes them her skin and her own for all the world to see. Layers, for the armor she builds and wears always.
But they don't quite reach her eyes; these fragmented pieces she conceives and puts on display. And so she'll give him glimpses because she knows he's the only one who really wants to see.
But just as quickly she'll distract Gold from them; draw him away from getting a clear and proper look. He falls for these little ruses of hers every single time. So he's never seen the true extent of that damaged soul of hers.
Sometimes Gold thinks that it may be for the best; not knowing what lies beneath the heart of her.
Or maybe he's just a coward, and she makes him more so of one. She is brave and strong and determined despite her obvious insecurities and fears. Emma is everything he once longed to be.
She's too good for him.
03.
Gold can't keep her.
But he wants to, wants it far too much. It jars him; the extent of his feeble devotion to her.
Though he does make great efforts to conceal that from her; wears his own mask of indifference and self-serving intentions, but Gold suspects that Emma can see right through them. That she can read between the lies he writes for her.
She's dangerously perceptive, but pointedly oblivious when she wants to be.
A decisive misdirect; an act of mutual safeguarding and keeping. She's protecting them, he understands, though a part of him rather she didn't.
But Emma looks after the things she loves even if she's not mindful enough to notice her disposition to do so. He secretly adores her for that; for the delicate and innate goodness that glows within her despite the shadows that always seem to surround her.
And he favors the possibility that she could love him; though she may not be aware of that ether.
Or maybe Gold's just fooling himself.
It doesn't really matter to him ether way. He just needs his own delusions to maintain the upper hand against her because it's always a battle between them; in one form or another.
And he can only function on the idea of an advantage.
It keeps him focused. Gold can't lose sight of his goal; not now, not when he's so close, and especially not for her.
It's exhausting, but he can't stop. So he's the one pushing it because he needs Emma to believe. That's the point. He needs that to still be the point.
But it's not anymore; not entirely. He knows that such a linear objective ended with a kiss, and a kiss back. Now it's become skewed and curved; Gold doesn't know what to make of it.
It's pointless really; what he thinks, or what he really wants. Emma's the one with the power between them. She's had it from the beginning.
And that frightens him. That he'd given it over to her so easily, and without a premeditated thought about it.
It's wrong, and not at all how he deals.
Power is too important to him, has always been, especially now. It's all he's come to know; that he was powerful. Not loved, nor cared for, or capable of good.
Gold was the man who held the power. It's what he is, and who wants to be. And he did not dare lose that which has come to define him as he has all else.
And yet, Emma's the one who breaks him down when the time comes. She does so with a discouraging amount of ease.
It's she who chooses to let him go, and she who decides quite resolutely to be done with him.
Gold's never felt more powerless, or so angry.
Bad things tend to happen in these situations but she's fortunate another, truer love unknowingly reemerges and intervenes. It gives Gold back old perspectives and priorities, and draws his attention back to more important matters.
Emma being gone helps too.
04.
Days and days and days go by and Gold finds that it just doesn't feel the same anymore; small town life without her, despite the spark of magic flowing back in the air and once more strongly in his veins.
Even the delight of an unfulfilled romance reborn is short lived and broken. He manages despite the heartbreak.
It surprises him—regardless of what he has regained, and of what he's so close to achieving—that he can't seem to let Emma go.
He's lost her and somehow she taken a part of him with her; something vital, and personal. He sure she hadn't meant to. What ever it was it manages to kill the challenge and thrill of it all.
Then he nearly kills her in return.
It's unintentional of course. Her reemergence was an improbability, the cards were stacked too far against her, and it's what Gold tells himself as he walks away from the happy reunion.
But then maybe it's not, he thinks instead darkly, as he dares a glance back over his shoulder. Emma could ruin everything. Ruin him.
She already has in so many ways.
.05
There's a confrontation soon after.
It's brief but charged, and maybe even a little flirtatious in its verbal delivery and emphasis; at least on his part. Its how these things have always gone between them, and yet, Gold can't help but feel a certain sense of finality about it when it's all said and done.
It's an awareness that comes once Emma's left his shop. That nothing can be as it was. Not even their tit-for-tat dynamic.
There were just too many players in the game now.
.06
After that, things fall back into routine rather quickly. Which means that tensions are building and everything is slowly falling apart.
As was becoming custom; a threat looms in the horizon. They're all biding their time. It seems like the thing to do.
Emma's distant and evasive now that she's home again. It's intentional, and for the best. But Gold can't help but hate her for it; that she is, and remains to be the stronger of the two of them.
It shouldn't matter at all, but it does. So he uses it; that irrelevant anger. It makes it easier to be impatient and sharp with her during those rare encounters they have.
Also it helps that she's now constantly flanked by those do-gooding parents of hers. And witnessing first hand how much Emma's allowed herself to become an awkward but obedient extension of them.
She's recreated herself into a good for nothing caricature. To please them, he assumes. And that alone is enough to elicit his ire and disappointment.
It's not his place to care, or to even notice these things about her anymore. But Gold does, and it bothers him that even now he'd liked to. Truly know her, and the deep shades she keeps hidden away from them all. It still matters to him.
He can't have it so he tries hard to bury it away, and that's for everything he feels for her.
And Emma plays along with his act because she's kinder then he is, and more capable of reigning in and handling her emotions.
She knows what's best for them both.
.07
Or maybe it's just what she wants.
Perhaps Emma never really felt anything for him to begin with, and so it's not difficult for her to pretend like nothing of significance existed between them.
It's that thought alone which snaps his steely resolve. Gold actively confronts her about it.
Emma's too calm when he does so, and not the least bit afraid of him. Reminds him that they have their own different set of loved ones now; they don't need each other. Not like that, not anymore. It's better this way.
Damage pieces can't be fixed with more broken ones.
She's not worth the loss of true love, she tells him.
And he's taken aback by her resolute declaration, of her ability to so passively belittle her worth, and that she would dare offer him one of her false smiles as a consolation.
That only makes the moment worse and his foolishness more apparent.
And Gold's never played the fool well.
He doesn't want Emma's gentleness, or her thoughtful considerations. And he most certainly wanted none of her sacrificial nobility here.
Honestly, Gold loathed the impact her parent's presence and influences have already had on her. And he despises even more so what she's made of herself to please them and there narrow minded expectations.
She was becoming charming in all the wrong ways.
He'd rather face the flawed and stubbornly guarded woman she'd been over this glorified interpretation of the heroic and ideal daughter.
At least that had been an honest representation of her true self. That was something, and it mattered.
Fractured, but as real as could be.
This shell of a woman was desperate, and too needy for acceptance. Emma was losing herself merely for the approval of that simpleminded family of hers.
He can't bare the sight of her like this. So he walks away instead.
It's the unfortunate start of a very bad day.
08.
Belle is gone with a bang.
Bealfire, lost and now found, wants nothing at all to do with him.
And Emma, ever the victim of fateful circumstances, is seemingly beyond his reach.
A day, all it takes is a single day. And everything becomes irreversibly altered.
One day only
In the span of which Gold still manages to kiss his dear Emma three times despite the dire and changing of circumstances.
An exposed kiss. A poor kiss. And a kiss to remember.
None of which needed to happen. Yet that doesn't stop him from kissing her each of those three times.
08.1
The first one is one too many.
Anger and hurt; pure and simple.
Gold pointedly threatens her whole family and calls in that favor. And Emma should never have followed after him, but she does.
She catches him outside.
Brazenly she confronts him about his irresponsible and increasingly callous behavior while making it quite clear that she's unsympathetic to his inner turmoil, or his childish need to lash out because of it.
Gold takes it, what Emma gives; only because it's her calling him out on it.
It's during their heated exchange when she's all rage and passionate audacity against him once more. Gold can't help but admire the boldness she still carries.
Emma's so much like her old self right then and there that he impulsively grabs her and takes her in his arms roughly; kisses her madly, and in plain sight.
She slaps him in return for that, and then turns her back on him.
It should never have happened. And it shouldn't have happened again.
But it does.
08.2
Poorly played; two for two.
The second of the three is an intended comfort, and the one most unnecessary.
It's hastily executed; occurring in the quiet of an empty hallway, and solely the result of too many losses and revelations in too short a time period.
Emma had run away, as far as she could, which is not that far at all.
Gold finds her leaning against the wall opposite the apartment; standing comfortably in the familiarity of her own isolation.
A heavy silence descends upon them as he walks over and situates himself evasively close to her.
He should leave her alone. That's his problem, he's come to figure that out; Gold can't seem to leave her be.
She looks fragile, tired mostly. And emotions are too raw and heightened; leading to risky bouts of reckless decisions.
He touches her cheek. She closes her eyes. They're family now, but he steals her lips anyways.
This is not how he wanted it to be.
Forcefully, Gold pushes Emma further against the wall and deepens it.
He kisses her then because he's selfish, and resentful, and terribly afraid. And because he wants to forget what's happening, and what will need to happen now that it has.
But then rationale returns, and so he ends it instead. She breathes heavily and slowly.
He regrets this one. There was nothing to be said about it, and so he says nothing. She remains silent too. But Emma's clutching his shawl, and her eyes are dull but hard.
Gold nearly dares her to do it.
They'd all be better off without him. And so would he. She stares at him for moment, and then releases her grip.
She looks away. He does the same.
They leave it alone.
08.3
Three's a charm.
It's the third and the last one that mattered, and meant the most.
Because its emergence occurs when Gold was sure there was nothing else left to lose. When his mind was free from all restraints and restrictions, and he was allotted the luxury of no longer needing to care for nor fear the consequences.
He is so nearly on the brink of death. The world is blurred and fading fast as his dagger is being risen to fall upon his heart.
And then it's there.
Suddenly Emma is his only source of light amongst the impending darkness.
It's not really real; this third kiss between them. Not now at least.
Emma's not even in the room anymore when Gold feels her falling over him. Cora having already swept her far and away with a flick of her wrist and a swirling cloud of smoke.
It's just a memory.
His last to experience, and not the one he expected in his final moment of life.
The irony of it being that it literally was their third kiss. When it had actually happened; right here, in his shop, in this very room.
One of the many where Gold had kissed her and Emma had kissed him back.
There really was nothing special about it.
So he cannot understand why it comes to him then, invading his mind as all else slips away, but it does.
He still lets it.
Consequences do come eventually because he doesn't die in the end. And things can never be so simple.
It's made apparent to Gold later. Only after the conflict between life and death, mothers and daughters, and prolonged vengeance has long since come and gone does he realize what it meant; that last kiss, the one that wasn't really a last kiss at all.
It wasn't just about the act of kissing her but the feeling behind and all around it that was truly significant.
A happy memory, that's what it was.
The last time he had truly felt that kind of undiluted and careless happiness.
It was so easy to forget that sort of thing; being happy. But he remembers it with her, and he won't be able to let that go.
It's the only kiss of the three that truly haunts him.
09.
Gold seeks her out eventually.
Finds Emma at Granny's and takes a seat across from her as Henry slips off and away.
It's almost like old times; their words, their tones, their heated stare. He feels nostalgic. Maybe even a little romantic.
He reminds her that they made magic together.
In more ways then one, he thinks slyly.
All the good that did Emma says with a shrug then tells him that despite it all she's really glad he's not dead. He's the lesser of two evils after all. The enemy you know, and all that.
He ignores the sarcasm and offers her another lesson. Free of charge. But Emma catches it, and calls him a liar.
She leaves Gold with that.
10.
Then he has Lacey.
And nothing good would come out of that.
Gold was already darker then the dark. He had no need for a convenient enabler regardless of his desires for the girl standing right there wearing the face of his stolen love.
Encouraging that violent beast deep inside would benefit no one, least of all him.
Still, Gold uses that pathetic and unfortunate soul to release some of his built up frustrations. It feels too good—inflicting that kind of pain on someone else—in all the bad sort of ways.
Something needed to be done, and he was clearly incapable of handling it himself.
So it's with that in mind that he does what he does when he decides to call her.
And Emma answers.
Gold skips past false pleasantries and asks her point blank what she would say if he admitted to nearly beating a man to death not one hour ago.
Nothing is her quick smart response because she'd be too busy arresting his cane wielding ass for aggravated assault. Again.
His grin comes fast and loose when he tells her where to find him. At his shop, and for once she comes alone. Small miracle that it was, he didn't think he could handle the Charming clan in full force at the moment.
Gold passively confesses his crime to her while Emma slips those familiar handcuffs around his wrists.
Her touch is warm and firm, her body so close, and still it seems she soothes him in a way only she can; without really meaning to.
It's a little disconcerting. This sway she holds over him. There's a part of Gold that's curious to know what Emma would do—how she would feel—if she ever learned the true extent of it.
But there's also the other side of him—always self-serving and viciously angry—that just wishes to be rid of it, all of it, and her above all else.
And he could make it go away. It would be so easy, doing so. His lovely Lacey reminded him of that tonight; of the horrors he was still, and always would be, capable of. They're tempting, these dark thoughts.
He feels a pull; light and sturdy, but also gentle.
It's Emma. It's always Emma.
She's pulling him back, and not just in a literal sense. So Gold goes along with her willingly.
His night in jail is a voluntary one.
They're both quite aware that he can leave his cell whenever the mood strikes him to do so. Regardless, Gold remains confined for the time being seated leisurely on his stiff and shoddy cot. His heavy gaze remains attentively on her.
Emma in turn sticks around longer then necessary in a likely attempt to figure him out and makes sense of this most recent act of violence and subsequent attempt to atone for it.
Why he does some of the things he does is truly the question of the night.
It's rare, not having an answer. It leaves a bitter taste in Gold's mouth.
He stares as Emma leaned herself further against the bars to study him; making it look as if she were the one locked away behind them.
The visual was a good metaphor for the both of them; each willingly trapped in their own set of cages.
They're self imposed, and separate. Neither can get to the other; not fully, and not enough.
There will always be something between them.
He engages along with Emma's curiosities simply to keep her around. Their time alone together was a thing of the past, and he's missed their quieter moments.
Finally, she wonders aloud, with only a hint of concern showing, if this would now become a common thing.
Not if he has her to stop him Gold affirms within but doesn't actually say. He asks instead about his son. He should be making amends with his boy. Perhaps Emma would be the key to that.
He quickly realizes his mistake in making presumptions, especially in regards to her. Just the mention of his son's name has an instantaneous effect on her. Emma becomes sharp and defensive; like it was a preset response. He watches her bury herself.
And Gold can't turn away even as she snaps at him to figure out his own damn love life and not to impose his drama on to the rest of them; especially not on her.
Don't call again.
Now the air is thick and the relaxed moment is lost as Emma turns and hastily leaves without another word. He vacates his cell not long after she'd gone.
Gold had tried to do the right thing.
He feels no better for it.
11.
It was a loss of control.
He had not expected it to be Emma's.
She finds him where one would always find him on any given afternoon; minding his shop.
His little bell alerts him to her abrupt and charged arrival. Emma is anxious and flustered. Her eyes wild as they catch his; burning flickers of frayed and unbound emotional chaos.
Actual concern takes hold of him as he glides past the glass display and approaches her swiftly.
He asks her what's wrong.
Emma tells him, and needs this from him.
It's about belief—there's a sort of coming full circle angle about it—she's here asking for his. Emma wants him to believe.
In her, because it seems no one else would.
They don't see, they've never seen, it's always been assumptions and the way they think it should be. They don't understand she tries to reason, with him or herself, as she rambles on and on.
He's compelled to touch her, lays a hand on her shoulder, to get her to stop. Emma gaze becomes chillingly blank but still teetering; nearly over the edge.
Gold needs to pull her back.
And now he understands why she's come; sought him out specifically. It seems, after all this time, she knew he was still the only one who wanted to see.
So Emma asks him again.
He's silent at first; assessing his response, and the ramification of the wrong words spoken. The answer is actually a simple one when it does come.
Not long ago, Gold had told her that he would not bet against her again, and he had meant it then, and still means it now. For once, he says to her what he wants to; he tells Emma the absolute truth.
He does believe her, and his help was hers to have.
Emma marvels at his affirmation of faith; the astonished look on her face would almost be an endearing one if the circumstances behind it were not so fraught with undisclosed insinuation.
But still, she hates exposure and lettering herself be seen. In spite of everything that hasn't changed. So her next course of action is not a surprising one.
She kisses him.
To distraction, and as always, Gold falls for it.
And so he kisses her back.
There's continuation and progression once more as an overwhelming sense of frenzied euphoria takes over him. He succumbs to it, and to her.
Gold pulls Emma closer to him in every way he can; bodies against hard objects, material made immaterial as they fall down scattered, frantic hands on flushed skin, heated touches with wanton fingertips, softer caresses alongside their more aggressive pulls.
Anything and all he can take to have of her.
Breathing in, breathing out, and then completely breathless. It was physical and passionate release pursued, taken, and fully realized.
There was nothing beyond this. It won't be enough.
Contentment follows as he lies beside her. Emma was calm now and pleasingly spent. And Gold's almost giddy and the lightest he's felt in some time as her breathe tickles over his heart.
He wants more. He wants this to last.
So he slows time down; only slightly but enough to have her for a little while longer then should be possible.
Because what was the point of all this power and magic if he couldn't conjure up something as simple as a few more minutes of this; ignorance and bliss with her by his side.
Gold takes her slowly this time. As carefully and thoroughly as he would for all things that truly mattered to him.
Still it's over too soon. Now Emma has to go, and he has to let her.
He can only control so much.
12.
It's the hint of a smile that does it.
That changes him.
It's a brief moment. To all those around them it wouldn't imply much of anything at all. But it does, and for Gold it signifies and alters everything.
Given to him by Emma in passing and, for once in his dark life, Gold can't allow himself to be selfish. Or let her boy stay lost despite the personal cost to him.
He won't do that to her; let that same sort of pain he's endured for too long of a lifetime to overtake hers.
By Emma, he can do right.
Because in an unguarded moment she had gone ahead and offered him a real smile—small and withheld as it tried to be—one that was genuine and so purely her.
Given to him because she's asked for his help, and because Emma knew he'd give it to her.
And it's enough, for now, it's enough. His choice had long since been made with its price to be paid.
Now Gold's standing on a ship in another world. And he's reflecting on old notions.
On Once Upon a Time and of Family, and Vengeance, and really, really, real True Love.
That fairytale concept.
He'd wanted it, and had thought he still did. He's not so sure anymore. Too much has happened to him since then.
Emma has happened. And that makes all the difference.
It's given Gold a new perspective.
For her, he's only here for her, even if she would never know. Deep down, he knows he owes her at least that. He glances over to Emma, and catches her eyes.
Now he understands what it feels like to be brave and strong and determined. He could face certain death if it meant her happiness.
And it's a good way to go, Gold thinks with a grin.
13.
Emma smiles back in the end.
Author's Note:
As always, I really hope you enjoyed reading this new story.
I'll admit that this was not the story I had thought I would updating with. I'm glad it is because I'm actually really happy with how it turned out. Even if it did come about and together by total chance.
I've been going through a slight and annoying case of writer's block for the stories I've been planning and actively working on when I happened to fall upon the old notes I'd written up for this one (on my mom's laptop. I have a bad habit of writing whatever ideas come to me onto the nearest thing possible; be it paper, desktop, work computer, envelopes, mom's laptop, etc. and then forgetting about them) I'd only had about 500-700 words done and thought I would toss in maybe another 500 more and get it posted up for the finale...
...and here we are a week later, about 4000 words more then planned, and a story nothing at all like how I had originally conceived it would be.
Writing truly is a fascinating experience.
Thanks again for reading and inspiring me to purse it. Reviews are nice too.
xoxox