Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time which is a show on ABC that makes you want to lay down and cry after you watch it usually. Or eat chocolate. Or both. Thanks so much for the reads and reviews, I really appreciate it and I will try to get back to you. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!


Emma and Neal waited outside the learning center in Augusta for Blake to come out. He was probably inside losing his job after Gold and Belle's call, but that did not seem to be enough for Neal.

Emma looked over at Neal. "Do we really have to do this?"

"Hey, I didn't make you come along."

"Oh, yeah," said Emma, popping another chip in her mouth, "I'm going to let you drive two hours to beat a guy up on your own."

"This scumbag kissed my baby sister," said Neal. "I have to do something. It's in the big brother rule book."

Emma leaned back against her seat. "The rule book?"

"Yeah, I know, I haven't been able to be her brother, but now that I am, I'm gonna do what I have to do."

Emma snorted. "You sound like Gold."

"Be glad it's me and not him. This little jerk should be thanking me." He looked out the window at someone leaving. "That's him."

Neal got out of the car. Emma grimaced, putting down her chip bag and followed him.

"Hey! Are you Blake?!"

"Neal..." groaned Emma.

Blake eyed him. "Yeah, who the hell are you?"

"Who am I? I'm Beatrice Gold's brother."

Blake smirked. "And what did the little princess say I did?"

Before Emma could make a retort, Neal had punched Blake in the nose.

"Ow!," said Neal, rubbing his hand. "That really hurts."

"That all you got?," asked Blake.

"You, shut up!," shouted Emma. She turned to Neal. "Come on, you punched him, let's go."

"Yeah, listen to your woman," said Blake.

"Okay, never mind," said Emma, walking over to Blake. She grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the groin. He fell to the ground writhing in pain. Emma walked back to Neal. "Okay, let's go home."

"The groin, Emma?," asked Neal.

"Shut up and get in the car," said Emma.

"Okay, but when we tell this story to my dad, I knocked him to the ground and there was a lot of blood."

"Yeah, sure, whatever makes you both happy," said Emma, getting behind the wheel of the bug. She looked back at Blake. "Is he crying?"


Belle glanced across the carriage at Rumplestiltskin.

"She's not whatever you're thinking," Belle promised. "There's no need to be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"You seem nervous," said Belle.

"I'm not nervous."

The carriage stopped. Rumplestiltskin helped Belle out and she went to the door.

"Aren't you coming?," asked Belle, looking back at him.

"No, no, I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding, Rumple," said Belle. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'll just stay out here."

"Come inside."

"Belle, your grandmother couldn't possibly want to have tea with me."

He began walking off.

"You're just delaying the inevitable," Belle taunted.

She knocked and went inside. She hadn't seen Catherine since she left to find the yaoguai and had sent a message via bird to say where she was and she was alright. They exchanged letters back and forth. Then Catherine had invited her and Rumplestiltskin to tea at the cottage. Then it was just a matter of getting him down here. She hadn't realized she was going to have to fight to get him in the door. Her grandmother said nothing specifically and they began talking.

"Will you return to Padua this winter?," asked Belle.

Catherine nodded. "I may. I can see my other grandchildren and I'll be there for the winter solstice seeing as how you have no need of my house."

Belle squirmed as Catherine's gaze turned again to the window. Rumplestiltskin paced outside.

"What does he think is going to happen?"

Belle shrugged. "He wanted to accompany me."

"He doesn't have to wait outside," said Catherine. "And does he suppose he's fooling anyone with that hood? You arrived in a magical carriage, it might as well been made of a pumpkin."

"He didn't want to intrude."

"Does he think I'll be afraid of him?"

"I-"

Belle didn't get to finish her sentence because Catherine was out of her chair and to the doorway to the garden.

"Oh, Dark One," she called.

Rumplestiltskin stopped and turned. Belle stood helplessly behind her grandmother.

"Yes?," he asked in confusion.

"Is there some part of your curse that keeps you from going indoors?"

"No."

"Do you drink tea?"

"Yes," he answered again befuddled.

"Do you suppose it's polite to ensconce someone's granddaughter in your castle and then not so much as come into her house when you've been given an invitation?"

"I suppose not."

"Then come have some tea."

Belle tried to hide her smirk as her grandmother commanded the Dark One inside and onto one of the settees, then began pouring him tea.

"Belle," Catherine said, nodding at the petits four stand.

"Would you like a cake, Rumple?," asked Belle.

Rumplestiltskin looked askance at the selection of tiny frosted confections.

"I like the pink ones," Belle offered, putting one on a plate for him.

"I understand you are from the Frontlands," said Catherine.

Rumplestiltskin sat even more confused. "Yes. I left long ago, though."

"It's a harsh land. What did you do there?"

"I was a spinner."

"Were you now? I've always admired anyone with that much patience."

"I was poor, I didn't have a choice," said Rumplestilltskin, attempting to bite back.

"Everyone has a choice. Even if I were poor, I doubt I would make much of a spinner. I would probably end up a highway-woman like Belle's friend."

"Snow White," said Belle, casting an exasperated glance at Rumplestiltskin. "You know she has no options."

"Yes, that stepmother of hers, she is quite something. I think she supposes she can make the people love her by keeping them under her boot."

Rumplestiltskin frowned. "That's really quite insightful."

"I had a sister like her," said Catherine.

"I never met your sister," said Belle.

"Yes, Belle. There's a reason for that."

Rumplestiltskin was distracted by an oil painting, the Dowager Duchess in her younger days, probably not much older than Belle, joined by a young man.

"That's their wedding portrait," Belle said, eyes sparkling.

Catherine shook her head. "Belle, men don't care about such things."

"Except Grandfather," said Belle. She looked up at Catherine suddenly. "Do you still have my books?"

"No, I sold them to some passing trolls with a fancy for literature," said Catherine. "Of course I do. They're in your room."

Belle got up and hurried off.

Catherine sighed. "Ever since she laid eyes on the written word, she has thought of little else. Until you. Now she speaks slightly less of books."

Rumplestiltskin took his tea.

"What do you think of the pink ones?," she asked.

Rumplestiltskin sighed. "I am aware of what I am. You don't have to be polite to me."

Catherine put her tea down. "Would that be very smart? To insult you? You could turn me into a worm and feed me to the birds."

"I could," he said seriously.

"Yet I think you won't. You love Belle. She loves you. Turn her beloved grandmother into a worm and I think that might cause some friction. Now, Maurice's mother, I don't know that anyone would mind."

"Why would you have me in your house?"

"I heard you were clever, Rumplestiltskin," said Catherine. "I thought it would be obvious."


It was another break between sessions at the trial. One of the Kinights of the Round Table had been called and Belle's uncle, Ian, had come to join her in watching the deliberations. Regina had him backed into a corner, explaining how the Blue Fairy had used them and gave orders.

"I don't know if I ought to be horrified so many were in on the conspiracy," Belle confided in her uncle.

Ian shrugged. "Ms. Mills says she's almost finished with her preliminary arguments, then it goes to Merlin and his involvement with our family."

"Then it becomes all about me and Rumple and Beatrice," Belle said with dread.

"Oh, gods. Is he testifying?"

Belle shook her head. "Regina's not stupid."

He nodded. "What about Beatrice herself?"

She shrugged. "Gods, I hope not. She doesn't need that. Rumple would have a fit."

"That reminds me. I have something to give her."

Belle raised a brow. "A gift? You didn't have to."

He smiled. "I most certainly did. I'm doing this on old instructions."

"What?"

"My mother. She bequeathed something to your daughter. I obviously forgot about it until the Curse broke, but I managed to find it in my attic."

This was getting more curious. "Grandmother bequeathed something to Beatrice?"

"She said specifically it was for your daughter."

Belle shook her head. "How could she know that I would have a daughter?"

"Well, you know my mother and her moments of prescience."

Belle was about to remark upon that when Regina walked up to them. "Mr. Wren."

"Ms. Mills."

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear. I need to examine that journal."

"What journal?," asked Belle.

"Your grandmother's. It apparently contains quite a story about an attempted coup by the Last Summer Princess at the behest of the Blue Fairy herself."

"What? Why has no one ever told me this?," asked Belle.

"I'll have it when I'm called to testify," said Ian.

"I need to see it now. Does it even exist?," asked Regina.

"Of course it exists," he answered. "I'm just not permitted to show it to you yet."

"Not permitted?," Regina scoffed. "By whom?"

"You will get it soon," Ian promised.

"I had better," Regina snarled back.


Alec held Catherine's hand as they hurried through the dungeon.

He stopped.

"Wait, was it this way?," he asked. He looked down. "I could swear I've seen that rat before."

"You mean you don't know your way out?"

"Well, shouldn't you?"

"This is the Summer Palace. I'm the Ice Princess. Why would I know my way around the dungeons of the Summer Palace?" She grimaced and picked up her skirt. "This dress is getting ruined."

"Well, what did you wear white for?"

"I'm the ice princess! What color should I wear?!"

"Why don't you use some of your magic?"

"You mean like a compass?"

"A compass won't do us any good. We don't even have a map."

She scowled.

"Do whatever you did last time to send me home. You sent me to Padua, certainly you can get us outside the palace walls."

"Remember the squid ink?"

"Yes?"

"It hasn't worn off yet so I leave it to you to get us out of here. If you want to be my knight in shining armor, now is your chance."

Alec grinned. "You realize a duke ranks higher than a knight?"

"Not if he can't get me out of a dungeon."

"Well, I think I see some light this way," said Alec.

That's when the door opened.

"Oh, that was a door," said Alec. "I thought it was an architectural feature."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "You are utterly useless."

Prince Xavier entered followed by a cadre of guards.

"Your Highness, Your Grace," he said. "It appears you have escaped from your cells."

"I suppose it does," said Alec.

"We shall have to resolve that."

"Gods, I hate him..." Alec muttered to Catherine as the guards came forth for them.


Beatrice sat at George's Taverna with her parents. The other diners had been somewhat taken aback by the sight of a Dalmatian pup at Mr. Gold's feet, but no one had questioned it.

"No, Martha," Gold said sternly "Puppies don't eat stuffed grape leaves. Lay down."

"How are you feeling?," asked Belle.

"I'm fine," said Beatrice.

"I think we would be better off erasing the whole nasty incident from our memories," said Gold.

"Really?," asked Beatrice. "What happened to bloody and broken?"

"The problem has been dealt with," said Gold. "You needn't worry yourself with it."

"Rumple..." said Belle.

"I only sent Neal to have a word with the young man," said Gold.

"Oh, God," said Beatrice, hiding her face. "Why would you do that?"

"Beatrice, I have reconciled myself to the fact that you will have any number of worthless young men throwing themselves at your feet. I truly have. I will do my best to rid you of the nuisance, but a young man forcing his attentions on you is completely unacceptable and I will not stand for it," said Gold. "He won't do it again."

Beatrice looked at Belle. "Can't you do anything with this?"

"Do you think I can do anything with your father and your older brother when someone's tried to take advantage of you?," asked Belle. "We only want what's best."


Ailie walked into the tower prison.

"Well, the frog has magic, does he?," she said looking at Alec. "Another born of True Love. How lovely."

"I'm never going to live that frog thing down," said Alec.

"No," Catherine answered shaking her head.

"You will have time to live it down at least," said Xavier. He turned an eye to Catherine. "You, Ice Princess, will not have that luxury."

"Yes, I know, execution's coming up," said Catherine. "I'm terribly sorry but I fear I won't be able to attend."

"Nonsense, sister, I wouldn't let you miss it," said Ailie. "Everyone's waiting in an hour's time."

"An hour?!," demanded Alec. "Why?"

Catherine looked to Alec. "I suspect that is when the ink provided by the Blue Fairy will stop working. Then I would have my powers back and I would end each and every one of them. If you kill me, the Ogres will come over that glacier."

"I'm counting on it," said Ailie. She smiled at Prince Xavier.

"Gods," said Alec. "That's what you two want, isn't it?"

"Xavier will help us, of course," said Ailie. "His kingdom has many fine armaments."

"You're selling out your people for a crown," said Catherine. "You are undoing everything since the Queen."

"I have been in your shadow long enough," said Ailie.

"Ailie, think of what you're doing," said Catherine as she and Xavier left. "No, please, really think!"

The guard slammed the door in her face.

"Catherine, I am so sorry," said Alec.

"That's it," said Catherine. "I failed. The story of the first Ice Princess is one of true sisterly love and I, the last, have allowed the reign to finish in such an ironic way."

"You have not failed yet," said Alec, taking a seat next to her. "Nor can you be held accountable for the vicious whims of others."

"Pretty sure I can."

"Why does she dislike you so? I've never seen a child born of True Love like her."

"She's not born of True Love. The Ice Princess needs two daughters, someone to be the Ice Princess and someone to be the Summer Princess. My father died before my mother could have a second and her advisors told her she had to remarry. My stepfather never forgot it. He wasn't angry about it, just sad. Ailie's always been angry. You know siblings."

"You forget I have none."

"Oh, that's right, isn't it?," asked Catherine. "You told me so much in your last visit that I sometimes have difficulty sorting it all out."

"I think I would like a big family. What about you? How many children do you suppose?"

"Well, seeing as I'm dying in an hour, I'll say five."

"Five," Alec said with approval. "I may hold you to that."


Beatrice followed her mother up to Ian's door. He lived in a small house across town and Belle had made Gold drive them over on the way home from the restaurant.

"Do we have to?"

"He said he has something for you from my grandmother," said Belle.

"Your grandmother?," asked Beatrice fearing some moldy knickknacks.

"Uncle?" Belle knocked at the door. "Uncle?"

"Maybe he's not home," said Beatrice.

"He said he would be," Belle said, knocking again.

Gold now got out of the car and joined them with Martha. "What seems to be the problem-"

He seemed to answer his own question at it ended abruptly.

"Rumple?," asked Belle.

He handed the dog off to Beatrice and waved his hand to open the front door. They went inside to see Ian lying on the floor. Belle rushed over to try and rouse him.

"Beatrice, call an ambulance," Belle instructed.

"No, this is magic," said Gold. He waved his hand and Ian groaned as Belle helped him sit up.

"Uncle, are you hurt?," asked Belle. "What happened?"

"Difficult to tell really," said Ian.

"The pain will pass," said Gold.

Suddenly, a white leather book with a silver lock and trim dropped next to them making a slight thud on the wood floor. Martha gave a soft bark. Gold picked up the book.

"It's a protection spell," he remarked.

Ian nodded.

"A very good one," said Ian. "Don't try to open it yourself. It may not be able to do you permanent damage, but you won't like the results."

Gold handed the book back. "Is it sealed with blood magic?"

"Yes, actually."

"Is this the journal Regina was asking about?," asked Belle.

"Yes, please don't try to read it yet," said Ian.

"You mean I could if I wanted?"

"It's tied to your family," said Gold.

Ian nodded. "It's not meant to be read yet."

"Who attacked you? Is this what they were after?," asked Belle.

"No, it was a group of fairies, they were after something else," said Ian.

"I'm going to help you up," said Belle.

Belle hurried to the kitchen and made a pot of tea while Gold placed wards on the house.

"How long have you had the puppy?," Ian asked.

"A couple weeks," said Beatrice.

"We had lots of dogs. My mother said it was because my father had so much in common with an overeager puppy. What is she called?"

"Martha." He looked at her inquisitively. "It's a Doctor Who thing. I wanted to name her Amelia, but-"

"But Amelia was my father's mother's name." He reached into a drawer on the end table and pulled out a box. "This is yours."

"Late Martin Luther King Day present?," asked Beatrice.

"It's from my mother for you."

Beatrice opened the lid on the box. Inside was another smaller box intricately carved and over it was a note. Beatrice pulled out the note, the writing looked more like calligraphy than anyone's own hand but it unmistakeably said "Beatrice."

"Did you take a calligraphy class?"

"No, my mother wrote the card."

Beatrice eyed him. "She died before the Curse was cast."

"Yes."

"So she didn't know my name so how could she write my name on a card?"

"I don't know. I expect you'll find that out."

Belle entered with a tea service. Beatrice put the box in her coat pocket. She began fixing her uncle a cup of tea.

"If it wasn't the journal, what is it you think that they wanted?," asked Belle.

"Oh, who can tell really?," said Ian.


"That does not look good," said Alec, staring at the crowd below waiting to see the execution.

"Not really, no."

He looked over at her. "How are you coming with the-"

Catherine seemed to wave her hands with a flourish.

"What are you doing?," he asked.

"Trying to summon magic."

"And you have to do the hand motions?"

"Obviously."

"How is that obvious?"

"Don't start with me, Alec. You're the one who gets let go after this."

"What? Do you think I'm excited by the prospect of being released after your death? What have I to look forward to without you?"

Catherine snorted. "Breathing?"

"What does it matter if I breathe if you do not?"

"Alec, I won't have you spending the rest of your days mourning after an incompetent ice princess you barely knew-"

"I won't have you speak of yourself so."

"How can I not? I mean, look at me. Look at where I am." She eyed the sun shining warmly on the glaciers in the distance. "When Xavier lets you go, you should ride home quickly. The Ogres won't be long."

"I won't go anywhere without you."

"Nonsense. My corpse will only weigh down your horse, not to mention the stares you'll get."

"I won't have it."

"I don't exactly see another solution."

"This doesn't end like this."

"Oh,I believe it does," said Catherine. She smiled ruefully. "All that True Love, come to nothing, eh? I wonder what Merlin's plan was in bringing us together. In fact, I would love to ask him right now."

"No," said Alec. "This is not the end."

The door opened. Alec grabbed Catherine and kissed her.

"This is not the end."

"We have orders for you, Your Grace," said the guard.

"Oh, really, what might they be?"

The guard clubbed him on the head and he fell unconscious to the ground.

"Come along, Your Highness," the guard sneered. "Your destiny awaits."


It was the customary meeting on the town square before the trial. Belle was speaking to Mary Margaret again. Ian spoke with Merlin. Gold and Beatrice stayed in their quiet corner with Martha.

"Sweetheart, you ought to be off," Gold said.

"Oh, crap," said Beatrice.

"What's the matter?"

"I left my physics lab report back home."

"That's not like you," he said, tucking Martha under his arm.

"I know," she groaned.

"I know you're having a difficult time with the fairy's trial and what that cretin did-"

"Oh, Dad, could we not?"

"Sweetheart, I do wish you wouldn't try to put me off-"

"I am fine, Dad," said Beatrice. "I have to get home if I don't want to be late."

Beatrice turned around and hurried towards her car.

Beatrice walked in her room and quickly found the report, stuffing it in her bag.

Her eyes then drifted to the box that Ian had given her. She opened it and pulled out an intricately carved ring box that was painted a deep sparkly blue.

That was weird. She had a nail polish in her bag that exact same color.

The only question was why had her great-grandmother left her a blue box?

Then she wasn't there anymore.


Ian entered city hall. Regina waited expectantly as he handed her the book.

"My mother's journal."

"Thank you. It would have been good to have it sooner..." she said, opening it. She stopped at the first page and froze. "Do you think this is funny?"

"What is it?"

"Is this your idea of a joke?," Regina asked, raising her voice.

"I've never read it. I was only told of the contents."

"Belle!," Regina called, shouting across the hall.

Belle turned from her talk with Merlin and Gold. Regina marched over.

"What is this?," she demanded, brandishing the open pages of the book.

Belle took it. "I don't understand..."

Gold looked over her shoulder. "I'm calling her."

"What does it say?," asked Ian.

"Mom, don't freak out," Merlin read. "Love, Beatrice."

"It's her handwriting," said Belle. She turned the page. "Sorry. Dad, don't freak out either."

"I only unlocked it before I came here," said Ian. "The key was enchanted. It hasn't been opened since my mother's death."

Belle started flipping pages. "This is impossible."

Gold came back. "She hasn't answered."

"Where's Beatrice's book?," asked Merlin. "The one I gave her."

"It's back at the shop," said Gold.

"We need to look at it," said Merlin.

"Why?," asked Belle.

"To see if anything's been written in it, sunshine."


It was as if a crack of thunder bolted through the gallows. Catherine looked next to her seeing her executioner had fallen to the ground and suddenly there was a dark-haired girl in strange clothes and a blue coat with a red bag trying to help herself up.

Beatrice eyed Catherine. "Okay... what's going on? Is this another netherworld? I am about done with that."

"This is the Far North Kingdom."

"Oh," said Beatrice. "People keep telling me I'm heiress to that."

Catherine eyed her. "Who are you?"

"Beatrice." She paused. "Who are you?"

"Catherine the Ice Princess."

That's when both women noticed that they had on the same necklace.

Not similar. The same.

"Oh," said Beatrice. "That's how you knew my name..."

"I would love to continue this chat, but I'm in the middle of being executed." Catherine motioned towards the audience and the execution set up.

"Oh." Beatrice looked at the anxious crowd. "Oh yeah."

"Yeah," said Catherine.

"Just one thing..."

"And that is?"

"I can't really let that happen..." She turned as Xavier and his men approached, raising a hand to throw a fireball. She helped Catherine up. "Now, do you have an escape plan? I haven't learned to teleport or disappear into smoke yet."

"Not really," said Catherine.

"Well, basically, run," said Beatrice, not having a better plan to fall back on.


Gold released the red book from its hiding place. He took out the book and opened the cover. Before he could flip through the pages himself, they did on their own, but no text was visible just a blurry haze of golden writing.

"What does that mean?," asked Belle.

"It means the book doesn't want us to know anything we shouldn't," said Merlin. "Yet."

"So where is she?"

Gold took out Catherine's journal. As he placed it next to Beatrice's book, the red book covered the white one in the golden haze.

"Oh, very clever," said Merlin. "The magic of her book has taken in Catherine's."

"What is really happening?," Gold demanded.

"What do you think, sunshine?"

"This," said Gold, motioning over the books, "isn't possible."

"I think you'll find it is."

Belle shook her head. "What are you two fighting about? Where is Beatrice?"

"With your grandmother," said Merlin.

"Sorcerers have tried time travel spells since the ancients. No one has succeeded, it's not possible and certainly not for Beatrice."

"Jealous?"

Gold glared. "Where is she?"

"Are you accusing me of something, sunshine?"

"Why not?"

"Rumple, Merlin wouldn't hurt Beatrice," said Belle.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," said Gold.

"I protected her when you rendered yourself unequal to the task," said Merlin. "So forgive me if I don't listen to you accuse me."

Merlin began to walk out.

"Merlin, wait! Please?," called Belle.

"I'm away for a walk."

He left. Gold fumed. Hearing the puppy cry, Belle retrieved her from the playpen in the backroom. She came out to where Gold stared at the books.

"I won't have you two fighting, not while we don't know what's happening with Beatrice," said Belle.

Gold seethed. Belle readjusted the puppy in her arms.

"This time travel spell. Is it really that impossible?," she asked.

"Well, it's not the sort of thing she could have managed on her own. Most of them have ingredients she doesn't know how to get a hold of."

"Beatrice can't read Elvin yet," Belle reminded him. "Whatever it was, she didn't get it out of a spell book."

Gold stared back at the books on the counter.

"All the sorcerers who tried, were they dark sorcerers?," asked Belle.

"I suppose," said Gold.

"Well, there," said Belle. "Beatrice isn't a dark sorceress."


Beatrice and Catherine ran.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!," said Beatrice. "What are you doing? I thought our general plan leaned towards running away from the gallows and castle?"

Catherine stopped. "I have to save Alec. He's Prince Xavier's prisoner until I'm executed."

"And who is..." Beatrice paused. "Um, would he be your true love?"

"Yes."

"Well, crap, I guess we have to get Alec then."

"Which was my plan," said Catherine motioning back towards the tower.

"Beyond that, do you have a plan?"

"I thought you had magic."

"I thought you had magic!," Beatrice parroted back.

"Yes, with ice!"

"That's it? That's all you do? You just ice stuff?"

"Just?"

"I mean, I can ice stuff," said Beatrice, holding her hand out as one of the guards came running up and transforming him into an ice sculpture.

"I thought you were the fireball," said Catherine.

"I just learned that and I can slam people back sometimes and I do this thing with the weather sometimes..."

"What do you do with the weather?"

"I don't really control it yet," said Beatrice. "I can can conjure some cookies if we get hungry."

"Then I suppose we'll just have to improvise," said Catherine, heading to the tower.

Beatrice followed Catherine up the stairs to the tower. Two guards ran at them brandishing swords, Catherine stopped one with a giant icicle that landed in front of him.

"Mind getting the other one?," asked Catherine. "I'm coming back from some time off, not really up to standards."

"Oh, sure," said Beatrice, thrusting her palm forward and smacking the guard back into the wall.

"Lovely," said Catherine. "Have you got anything for the door?"

"I could try that huge key the unconscious guard has," said Beatrice.

She hurried over and snagged the key. With the door unlocked, Catherine hurried in to Alec's side.

"And he's unconscious..." said Beatrice.

"Alec, Alec, wake up," Catherine implored.

Alec stirred. "Catherine..." he said with a goofy smile.

"You need to get up, Alec. We haven't much time."

"Am I dead?"

"No."

"Are you dead?"

"No."

He turned to see Beatrice. "Who's she?"

"I'm not certain, but so far she seems helpful." Catherine tried to help him to his feet and he staggered, nearly knocking her down.

"Can you please get it together?," asked Beatrice.


Belle sat on the sofa with Martha and stared at the books. She had figured out that she could move them from the shop if she closed the covers and now they sat on the oak coffee table next to her fifth cup of tea. She didn't have the stomach to eat.

"What's this?," asked Gold.

She looked up. She hadn't even heard him come down from the upstairs. He was holding a sparkly blue box with intricate carving.

"I have no idea," said Belle. "Were you searching Beatrice's room?"

"Yes. I found this object on her bed next to this card."

He passed the card to Belle.

"That's my grandmother's hand."

"And Beatrice's name."

She shook her head. "This doesn't make sense. My grandmother didn't even have her powers my whole life and longer, let alone a time travel spell."

"Well, she got there somehow, if that's where she even is," said Gold.

The books suddenly snapped open and flipped open a few pages. There were now a few visible sentences.

"It says that Beatrice stopped my grandmother's execution."

"And how did she do that?"


"So, a gallows view," said Beatrice looking out the window of the tower. She heard the rattle of the guards' armor outside the door. "Does anyone have an escape plan?"

Catherine eased Alec to stand on his own. She hurried to the window.

She let out a breath and closed her eyes. She waved her hand with a flourish. Beatrice watched as a staircase of ice appeared leading out the window and to the ground.

"Will that do for an escape plan?," Catherine asked Beatrice pointedly.

"Yeah, that could work."

Catherine helped Alec down the ice staircase. Beatrice followed.

"Hurry up!," shouted Catherine.

"Just a little slippery!," Beatrice shouted back. "How are you doing this in heels?!"

They arrived at the bottom and the stables.

"Horsey!," Alec said, stumbling towards the steed. "Catherine, this is Mandrake. Mandrake, this is Catherine and what's your name again?"

"Beatrice."

"Beatrice, right."

Catherine grabbed another horse. "Get a horse," she ordered Beatrice.

"Yeah, I don't really ride horses."

"Get on mine," said Alec. "Come on. Mandrake is very obliging."

"How hard did they hit your head?," asked Beatrice.

There were screams in the distance. Even Beatrice recognized what they were.

"Is that Ogres?," she asked.

"The pass," said Catherine, easily mounting her horse on her own. "It must have begun to melt."

Alec looked to Beatrice. "I'll help you up. We must make haste."

Before she realized it she was on the horse being steered by the man with the head injury.

And, oh, yeah, he was her great-grandfather.


Much Later

The Dowager Duchess descended the stairs in the middle of the night in search of a good book. At least one better than the one she had been reading.

She went into her sitting room and spotted a familiar figure sitting in the chair.

"Oh," said Catherine. "Rumplestiltskin, haven't you heard of knocking? You might have frightened me to death, were I frightened of you. Don't you know? I'm a very old lady. I could die of fright any moment."

He sat in the chair, not moving his head as Catherine came around.

She stared at him. There was something amiss in his features. He wouldn't look up at her.

"She's gone."

"What do you mean?" Catherine took the chair across from him.

"Belle is gone..."

"She went to Maurice's."

"She's dead."

Catherine sat, taken aback. "No..."

"The clerics... just to cleanse her of my influence..."

"No, I don't believe that."

"Sir Maurice told me."

"I don't believe him."

"She is gone," he said, the last word thundering.

Catherine waited a long while before she spoke again. "Rumplestiltskin, I don't believe that."

He didn't answer right away.

"I have her mother's things. I don't know if you..." He shook his head. "I have no need of them."

"No," said Catherine. "You ought to keep them. Especially Reinette's pendant if nothing else."

"Why would you want me to keep your daughter's things?"

Catherine looked away. "Rumplestiltskin, are you absolutely certain that-"

She looked back to see that Rumplestiltskin had vanished.

"Men," she said to herself with a grimace.