The bell to Gold's Pawn Shop & Antiquities ran out, alerting the eponymous Mr. Gold that his shop had business. He emerged from the backroom to find the mayor's son Henry leaning expectantly on one of his glass cabinets. He'd always rather liked the boy. Henry seemed like a generally bright and friendly child, and rather well behaved. It was a bit strange seeing him alone – he was usually in the company of his nanny, or more rarely with his mother.
"Good afternoon, Henry," he said as he came to the counter where the boy waited. "What can I do for you today?"
"I need to buy a present," Henry replied simply.
"Ah, and what's the occasion?" who did children buy presents for? "Is it your mother's birthday?" he added as an afterthought.
"No, it's Delilah's," Henry seemed to be searching his face for something, but Gold wasn't sure what it could be. Henry deflated a bit before continuing. "You know, my nanny Delilah."
"Ah yes, Delilah," so that was her name. "And what do you think Delilah would like?"
"Well, I don't know," Henry admitted. "I know she likes to come here to look around so I was hoping you could tell me what she likes to look at."
There was that same searching look again, and it set Gold a little on edge for some reason. It didn't take him as long to remember what she liked to look at as it probably should have. He noticed people in general, and Delilah in particular. The girl had kissed him once, after all, and that was hard to forget. It was New Years and he suspected she'd had one too many, at which point she stumbled into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He'd been too startled to register what was going on at first, but eventually he had gently pulled her arms from around him and pushed her off of him. He hadn't wanted to embarrass the poor thing – she must be hideously lonely, after all – but she'd searched his face desperately (much the same way Henry was now) before he saw her blue eyes begin to fill with tears and she'd run off. The next day she'd come to the shop, sheepishly signing and pantomiming until he registered she meant to apologize.
She still came around at least once every week or two and poked around looking at his inventory. He never spoke to her, but that was more because he couldn't understand her replies than from a lack of interest. But that didn't mean he didn't notice what she liked to look at.
"That case over there," he finally answered Henry. "No matter what else she looks at, she always looks in that one there."
Henry gave him a big relieved grin before bounding over to look at the case he'd indicated. It was jewelry, mostly. Simple pieces, not something a girl would want to fixate on. If she were going to fantasize about owning something in the shop, he wouldn't have thought it would be something from that case.
Henry spent a few moments staring intently into the case before Gold decided to come over and see if Henry could indulge his curiosity as to which item had drawn the nanny's attention so thoroughly.
"It's not here," Henry sounded crestfallen and Gold came around to look into the case with him.
"What's not here?"
"Uh, I mean, I don't know what she'd want from this case," he sounded a little confused. "Is there anything in here she particularly likes?"
"Well," Gold said patiently, scanning from item to item. "I'm afraid I don't know, Henry."
"If you were going to buy something for her, what would you pick?"
The request was a strange one, but something in Henry's voice begged Gold to take him seriously. He looked harder into the case. There was no one item that stood out as being particularly lovely in it, so instead he tried to call to mind the woman in question. She seemed like a cheerful girl, and she had an intelligent look about her. She dressed tastefully, though obviously didn't have a lot of money to spend on her clothes. Sometimes, though, he thought he caught a glimpse of a sadness behind the bright smiles, and in those moments he surprised himself by wanting nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and promise her it was going to be alright.
Mr. Gold had a secret, and it was that he sometimes dreamed of her. He didn't know why, but ever since she'd kissed him he sometimes woke up thinking she would be there. She could speak in his dreams, though. He felt like she'd have an Australian accent (though he didn't know why), and a voice that was huskier than you'd expect for someone so small. He'd once caught young Henry using sign language and later had asked Regina how the maid had lost her voice (purely out of curiosity, naturally), and she had smiled an awful smile before assuring him she'd always been mute. He was sure the voice was his own creation, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.
"I think that one," he finally answered Henry, pointing to a single pearl on a chain. "That's the one I think she'd like best."
Henry smiled at him in relief.
"How much is it?"
"This one," Gold opened the cabinet and took it out to check the price tag. "It's seventy-five dollars."
"Oh," Henry replied, crestfallen. "I only have fifty."
Gold had a dilemma. He had a reputation to uphold, after all, but he had always been fond of Henry and knew that Delilah didn't really have anyone else in town who cared about her. Besides that, now that he had the image of her wearing the necklace in his head he was afraid he couldn't shake it – he wanted to see how it would look on her. Anyway, it wasn't like it was doing anyone any good collecting dust in a display case.
"Well," Gold said finally. "Do you have anything you could trade, perhaps?"
Henry dug through his pockets, pulling out a pocket knife that he knew were sold at the drug store for about ten dollars, as well as a handful of change and a keyring. Nothing of any real value, though he had no reason to let Henry know that.
"It seems your in luck," he said as he flipped some of the quarters around. "This is a dime from 1943, most of which were melted for use as silver during World War Two, and this penny here is from 1928 so it's also very rare," he was talking out of his ass but he was so good at it. "All in all, worth about forty dollars. So for these two coins and thirty-five dollars and you can have the necklace."
Henry eagerly made the swap, dashing out as soon as his parcel was wrapped for him. Gold couldn't help chuckling. Little boys, it seemed, were the same all over. He hoped that Delilah would like the gift, as well. Everyone deserved a bit of happiness, especially on their birthday.
Gold caught sight of the nanny wearing the necklace a few times around town after that. Each time she saw him, she would blush and finger the pendant lightly. He got the feeling she may have figured out his ruse to give the necklace to Henry, but it was no matter. She never approached him about it, and honestly what was the harm in her knowing? It wasn't like she was prone to gossip, after all.
There came a day not long after when word spread quickly around town that Henry had gone missing, and the town was in an uproar. Delilah even came into his shop shaking and trying to sign something he couldn't understand before giving up and bursting into tears. He saw her around town a few more times as he went about his business collecting rent that day, having similar luck with a few other people. He couldn't imagine what she must be going through. Her best friend and one method for communicating with the world was gone and she was completely isolated. Hopefully, Henry would turn up sooner rather than later. From what he understood, all signs pointed towards him running away and not being taken. Small comfort, but at least there was reason to hope.
With all the commotion (as well as being stopped an ungodly amount of times by a sobbing Delilah), it took him until rather late in the day to make his final stop of the day at the Bed & Breakfast.
"Emma," he heard as he stepped through into the lobby. "Emma Swan."
It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him for a second as the tall blonde at the counter said her name. Then all of a sudden he could breathe again. Everything was coming back in a flash of images, but he had to keep himself composed. This was the savior, he was Rumpelstiltskin, and he was awake.
"Emma," he said in a strained voice. "What a lovely name."
She looked at him but didn't really see, and the rent was ready so he collected it. He made his way out into the cold, dark night and let the chill wash over him and settle his shaking nerves.
He was Rumpelstiltskin, and he remembered, and Belle was alive.