"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this,

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

- William Shakespeare,

Romeo and Juliet

Chapter Six: What's in a Name?

Wednesday came more quickly then I would have thought, I hadn't seen Mr. Gold since his visit to the shop. That morning I'd made myself a hefty breakfast of blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs and a strong cup of coffee. The shop would open at nine, plenty of time to relish my breakfast. Mouth full of pancakes I watched the rain fall outside. My little garden would be benefiting from this, it was late summer and pretty soon I'd have to harvest the herbs and flowers for preserving. Maybe this weekend I would get to it, a few well placed puppy-eyes would ensure Mary Margaret's help. It would be good to give her a taste of her own medicine (damn Bambi eyes of hers.)

My home was large for just one person, it was surrounded by the woods except for the narrow dirt road that connected to the main road into the heart of town. I'd thought about renting out a room or buying a pet but neither search yielded the right fit, so alone I remained. It suited me just fine, when I was working on a particularly complex polyjuice I was up at all hours of the night, to stir, simmer or chop.

Finished, I placed the dirty dishes in the sink I'd take care of that later, I double checked my stove and tucked my cell phone into the back of my trousers. Grabbing my large cloth bag and rain parka from the stair steps and car keys from the key rack on my way out the door I braced myself for what would prove to be an interesting day.

I spent another ten days at Magpie's hut, sleeping atop musty blankets, awoken at night by Magpie's nightmares. Calcifer refused to remain in the house and had made the woods his home, occasionally checking up on me to make sure all was well and to keep physical contact. Magpie taught me as best as she could the methods of harnessing an infant's destiny and applying it to magic without actually performing the task. Theoretical work would have to do, there was no way I was opening myself to that vein of magic, I sure I wouldn't come out unscathed.

It wasn't the most complex spell I had heard of, there were so many passages of Magpie's Grimmoire I hadn't even attempted yet simply because I still couldn't understand the convoluted processes. It was, however, delicate.

In the most basic of terms the magic user traded the most miniscule piece of their magic for one of the child's destiny (in essence the child's life, or potential life). The child acquiring magic could have many outcomes, physical beauty, a great intuition, some magical ability. Nothing that would harm the child. In return, the sorcerer could use the child's destiny in place of the blood sacrifice when performing the ritual that activated the Sight.

Learning this ritual meant everything, it meant hope, but even that hope was clouded by doubt. What if the Imp enjoyed the kill, what if his magic would not accept anything but the taste of death that the blood sacrifice offered?

In the morning of the eleventh day, my body protested against rising as it had for the last coupled of days. I gathered my satchel, filled it with some bread and fruit that Magpie had insisted I take, my full water skin ands bid the old witch good-bye.

"Thank you, you've given me so much. I don't know how to repay you."

The witch had walked me to her doorway with steady, solid steps that were at odds with her weathered appearance. She looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke.

"There is one thing. You could do one thing for me before you depart."

It would be a lie to say I wasn't worried, "What do you desire?"

"Life."

I could feel my face mold into a frown. How could I gift her with life? I turned away from her pleading eyes for a moment and took in my surroundings. The land around her hut was bare of any plants, weeds, not even grass grew here. I knelt in the dirt and dug my fingers in as deeply as I could into the hard earth. My eyes closed and I concentrated on the energy of the earth, everything but the deep roots of power faded from my mind.

Willing my magic to intertwine with the plants, dormant deep with in the earth, I forced magic into them, willing them to awaken and grow. Magpie's sob of joy broke me from my trance, my work was done.

A flower petal tickled my check; they'd grown well, thousands of wild flowers reaching as high as my knee when I stood littered the once bare area. I picked a pale pink cone flower and handed it to the overcome woman.

"I'll pray for you. And hope that when you finally reach the other side, your family will be awaiting you. To live is to forgive Baba Yaga."

We exchanged no more words after that, the old woman sat among the flowers and sunshine reveling in the magic and life that surrounded her. I made my way back to my cottage armed with knowledge, magic pumping thorough my vein and Calcifer by my side.

I had another day to spell the parchment before the Imp would come to find me again.

I just finished watering the flowers that Mary Margaret had ordered for the hospital visit when the chimes sounded. I looked at my wrist watch, noon on the dot. The man sure was punctual.

"Afternoon Mr. Gold, right on time."

"Punctuality often leads to opportunities; I make it a point to be punctual."

'And an opportunist.'

"If you'll follow me, the examination room is in the back."

I lifted the hinged portion of the counter; he limped past me, though I was happy to note it wasn't as bad it had been during his last visit. He smelt faintly of some cologne and shampoo. It was a clean scent that reminded me of the woods at night.

"Such beautiful specimens you have here Ms. Edoras." His finger tips caressed the petal of a begonia flower as he passed by.

I preened, these flowers were my masterpieces, some I'd cross breed myself and they were entirely unique to my greenhouse.

"Thank you, they're a high maintenance bunch but I love them. This way please."

My examination room was a neutral shade of yellow. I had a computer and printer at one corner. Multiple cabinets lined the walls. In the middle was a standard cushioned examination table, on top of it laid folded an embarrassing situation waiting to happen. I grabbed the gown and pointed toward the door that led to the tiny bathroom this room housed.

"You can change in the bathroom; you may keep on your undershirt and underwear."

'There that was professional, now stop thinking about him having wrinkly chicken legs before you leave the room laughing your fool head off.'

Without as much as a twitch of embarrassment (poker-faced bastard!) he grabbed the gown and hobbled his way to the bathroom.

My golden skinned visitor arrived late into the night of the fourteenth day. He brought with him an air of chaos and a dimpled maniac smile.

"Hello my lovely, I hope you've been fruitful with the time I granted you."

"Quite, I've written out my part in this deal already" I handed him the be spelled parchment, it was some of my finer work "take a look at it before we discuss the price of my knowledge."

With a graceful flourish he unwound the parchment and seated himself on my old wooden chair. The smile on his face grew wider the further he read. I felt slightly reassured.

"My, this is quite the contract indeed. I like it, it's got style. But the question is, can you keep your promises Enchantress."

"Yes. I can." I let the words hang in the air before adding, "but there is a price."

"Isn't there always dear, you can't get something for nothing." He replied in a high pitched voice, eyes wide with excitement.

"I want," I pause considering my words carefully, "I need you to act as my familiar. I will be endangering Calcifer's life as well as my own and any creature with in a hundred mile radius should my magic overcome me."

His joy transformed to boredom, "What problem is that of mine?"

"If I am overcome by my magic then I will doom you to the same fate. Without knowledge of this ritual you will truly be lost to the madness you portray yourself to drown in."

"I shall not be leashed by anyone." He spits out, rage coloring his features.

"That's why I propose a partnership. An exchange of services, I will share my magic with you, if you will act as a container for the magic I can not keep with in myself. You'll have access to all that power and I get to keep my life."

Those wide amber eyes held my gaze, "And how, do you plan to go about ensuring this covenant?"

"Besides the contract? An exchange of names."

"A binding, a mutual binding. I see you've thought about this but how far did you plan ahead dearie. With such a deep bond of both identity and magic you must know there will be…consequences."

"I do not know what they will be." I knew better then to lie to this creature.

"I have an idea." Sharp teeth and dimples battled over the tone of his expression, joyful or hungry.

I let out a dry laugh, "Of course you do, must keep the advantage in someway mustn't you Imp?"

He rose and bowed deeply and mockingly, "Indeed I do."

Picking up the quill from the table I dipped it in the ink and handed it to him. He picked it up and twirled it between his fingers.

"One last thing" He ran an open palm along the parchment and words began to appear on the paper. Before he could sign I snatched the paper from him.

"Not before I can see what mischief you're up too."

He laughed but allowed me to take the time to read. He'd added his part of the deal, stipulating the allotted time he would spend with me every month. Familiars had to be in physical contact with their sorcerers often as possible to absorb the excess magic. Four times a month, once each week. That should be sufficient, just barely; the Imp knew what he was doing. Apparently I wasn't the only one who used my time to research.

"Alright, sign" I handed him back the parchment.

He scrawled out his name at the bottom of the contract, it was a long name. I rose to look over his shoulder, to read the name.

"No, no, no. You first Enchantress." He clutched the contract to his leather clad chest.

"My name is Amora."

"Amora." His voiced caressed each intonation of my name, I felt my breath being then from me. Once again I tasted the night sky on my tongue. A part of him was now within me.

"What is your name Imp.?" He left the parchment on the table; he stood so close the coolness of the leather brushed against my bare arms.

"Rumpelstilskin."

"Rumpelstilskin." I repeated, sealing the bond between us.

He shuddered and let out a moan, "Mhhhm , still taste like sunshine."

Mr. Gold laid on his stomach on the examination table, his forearms and legs were surprisingly well formed for a man of his age and limitations. It was surreal seeing this man out of armor. I could not remember a time when he was not impeccably dressed in a well tailored suit that probably cost more then most people made in a month. The wound's scar was long, measuring from mid-thigh to mid-calf. The tissue had knitted itself together in a crude manner, meaning that it had been hastily bound or he did not take the time to recuperate.

I'd had to edge the gown until it was tucked neatly beneath his buttocks, barely keeping his modesty.

"I'm going to feel the wound now. If at any time you feel discomfort or pain please tell me."

"Proceed Ms. Edoras."

His skin was smooth, sprinkled with thin dark hair. I began by pressing the fingertips of both hands on either side of the old scar starting at the calf. Applying pressure I traced the tendons of his leg. They were shorter then they should be and much too taunt, he'd never been to physical therapy that would be my first recommendation. There was a great deal of swelling and discoloration around the scar. He'd need an anti-flamatory; a tea blend would be most effective for the overall stiffness. What worried me was the amount of swelling behind his knee; it greatly constrained movement that was the source of the limp.

Physical stimulation with the application of a custom balm would help immensely with the pain but it wouldn't get rid of the limp. I don't think anything sort of surgery ever truly would, and the way the scars traced the path of his mangled tendons I doubt any surgeon would advise a procedure.

"How did you get this?"

He lifted his head and half turned his body to look at me. "A war wound."

I wanted to probe further but there was certain haunted quality to his gaze for a brief second before that impassive mask fell back into place that prevented me from asking any further questions.

"You may sit up now." I turn my back and dispose of the latex gloves to give him some privacy to shift into a sitting position least I see more of Mr. Gold then I though my sanity could withstand. "Do you have trouble moving your toes?"

"Some, particularly after I've been standing too long."

I turn back to see him sitting on the table as if it was his throne, "The scars run internally too then, they're making circulation quite difficult in that leg."

Handing him the neatly folded pile of clothing he'd placed on the chair I continued. "I'm going to write down some potential treatment option while your get changed. I have some forms for you to fill out before your next appointment."

"Very well. I'll be but a moment."

In slow, deliberate movements he shimmied from the table and planted his feet on the ground. His leg bucked briefly under the strain. I barely heard the soft angry muttering of "accursed frail human body." before he closed the door to the bathroom.

The sudden vibrating of my phone startled me from my almost feelings of sympathy toward the pawnbroker. Ruby's grinning face flashed on the caller id screen.

"Hey Red, a little busy. Can I call you back?"

"The Mayor's son ran away from home."

"What? Henry?"

"Yes. He's been missing since this morning, never made it to school according to Em. Regina is going berserk! Has Graham hunting him all over town for him, there's talk of a search party. You seen any trace of him?"

"No, I haven't. Now I really do have to go. I'll stop by the diner later on today, we can talk then."

"Juiciest gossip in forever and you're too busy too gush over it with me? What's his name?"

I let out a startled chuckle because it was so Ruby to assume that the only thing more important then gossiping with friends was a man.

"I'll never tell, bye Red."

"Later Bells"

I turned to my patient, who was just exiting the bathroom, untied tie draped around his neck. The skin of his throat stirred something in me, a vague recollection of something; I quickly discarded that train of thought. I really needed to find myself some male company if the sight of Mr. Gold's throat stirred something in me.

'Not quite that desperate yet libido, don't worry I'll find the time to get us laid soon.'

"My dear, you look awfully troubled. Has something happened?"

'Yeah, I found you attractive (in an older, wealthy, powerful gentleman whose throat I want to lick kind of way) for the span of five seconds…and I sounded like a trashy paper back novel describing you. I reeeaaallly need to get laid.'

I took the easiest excuse for my slightly horrified expression that wouldn't win me a (potentially lethal) enemy.

"Henry Mills has gone missing."

One brow lifted in an elegant arch, "Has he now?"

"Been missing all morning, I hope they find him soon, the Mayor is out of her mind with worry according to Ruby."

"Yes, I'm sure she's just overcome with thoughts of the possible harm that could come to Henry."

The way he lingered in the syllable of the boy's name was peculiar, I couldn't place why, but there was the barest into of sarcasm in his voice. I shrugged it off, something I was better of not contemplating. For a moment he swayed slightly, eyes closed and I wondered if he was going to collapse.

His eyes opened lazily and a toothy grin split his face, "An important matter that has neglected has just come to my attention. I must prepare some things. We may go over the treatment option at the next appointment. Now if you'd be so kind as to provide me the necessary papers I really must be on my way."

I hop onto the computer, print out the necessary forms and hand them to pawnbroker. He had this uncharacteristic jittery air about him. I had never seen Mr. Gold anything other then calm and composed. It was eerie to see him so animated.

'Strange, must be something terribly exciting as well as important. What could it possibly be? Damn, it's going to bother me all day now!'

"Friday, at around six for the next appointment?"

"Yes, that's acceptable; my shop closes early on the weekends."

"Since I usually work on the greenhouse at that time the shop will be closed. Just give me a call before you arrive." I scribble my number on a post it and stick it to the forms. "That's my cell number if I don't pick up the shop phone."

He takes hold of the hand that had placed the post it on his pile of papers and brings it to his lips. Hazel eyes locked into mine, I'm too startled to do much but gape at him.

"Good bye."

I don't respond, just nod dumbly (I think that maybe I gave a lame spastic wave) and watch him walk thorough the greenhouse and presumably out of the shop. Still sitting at my computer desk, I clutch my recently kissed appendage to my chest.

"What the hell was that?" I whisper softly to the empty room. I still feel my flesh pulsing from were he touched my hand.

Next Time On Dragon Ball Z:...wait, no that doesn't sound right. Let me try again.

Next Time On Ties That Bind: (Much better) Amora begins to teach Rumpelstilskin the ritual, Anabelle meets with Ruby and a new presence in Storybrooke sets the wheels in motion.

A/N: So this chapter should give everyone a fairly good idea of were exactly in the Storybrooke time line we find ourselves in. A few hours prior to the events in Episode One. Is any one excited yet?

Also guys thank you so much for the review, I'm feeling the love and this early update is my retribution of that love. Keep'em coming guys! Feel free to PM me at anytime with any question, thoughts, or ideas.