A/N: Hello, readers! I know I just started this story, but I'm afraid I won't be able to update for about two weeks. Those of you who are reading my Breakfast story might already know this, but I figured I would mention it for any who read this story. Real life demands my attention. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and I'll try to update again as soon as possible. (-;
Rumpelstiltskin was never much of a singer, which made it somewhat difficult on his part to put the girls to sleep. The time he serenaded Emma in Storybrooke was unnerving for him, but he had done it for her. Often, he would talk affectionately to his girls, tell them some good stories before bed.
He couldn't wait for the day when they were old enough to be excited by his bedtime stories.
He and Emma took turns tucking in Henry and the girls. With his training as a knight underway, Henry often went to bed no later than the twins. Secretly, Rumpel was relieved that Henry went to bed early. Not only did it allow him and Emma to share the night alone, but the boy needed his rest if he insisted on becoming "the best knight the Enchanted Forest had ever known."
"What story shall we hear tonight?" Rumpel wondered out loud. Of course the girls were too young yet to nominate any favorites. He rocked Isabelle in his arms, settling her down before he placed her in the crib with Mary. The girls instinctively reached out for each other. "Ah! I've got it. I'll tell you how I met your mother. Perhaps one of these days, you'll remember it."
The babies curled theirs fists in response, the soft sounds of sleep coming from their tiny, puckered mouths. Rumpel liked to think they were comforted by the sound of his voice as they slept. Reaching into the crib, he brushed his finger over their rosy, plump cheeks.
Then he began to tell his story.
"Your mother was absolutely beautiful. That was my very first thought when I met her that fateful night, on her twenty-eighth birthday. Beautiful, but not in a delicate, willowy, maiden in distress sort of way. She exuded bravery and goodness. Radiant, garbed in crimson leather. My kind of woman."
He smiled as he thought back to that night, forever ago, when he first crossed paths with his savior. That was all she was to him then, but now she was infinitely more. It had all started with the sound of her name. Em-ma...
"All I could see of her face were those golden curls. To me, she looked like a princess. When she spoke her name, it was the loveliest sound in all the world. It was the key to restoring my true memories. I couldn't resist saying it myself or telling her how lovely it was."
Em-ma...what a lovely name.
"Then she turned around. I will never forget those eyes. Two confident green eyes, green as the forest, and guarded. Never letting anyone in, least of all me. Suspicious and hard. Those were the eyes of someone who had seen too much of the world, all thanks to me."
All because he had decided to enact a curse to find his son. Emma's happiness and sense of family had been the price. He never brought it up to her nowadays, but he never truly forgave himself for what he had done to her. If not for him, she might have known happiness or family long before her twenty-eighth birthday.
"I had not fallen in love with her yet-or perhaps I had and didn't realize it at the time. Your mother had a unique magic all her own, even then. She was very special and powerful-she still is. Looking back, I'm glad I met her despite the circumstances. Now I have her love and a handful of beautiful children."
Rumpel bent down and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. When he picked up his head, it almost knocked against the glass unicorn mobile that hung above their crib. It would have belonged to Emma, but now she saved it for their children.
"This belonged to your mother, once upon a time," he said, touching one of the dangling unicorns. Maybe one day they would cherish it enough to pass it along to their little ones. For now, they slept soundly. "I love you," he whispered and clung to the thought that they could hear that, too.
Then he stepped out of their bedroom, leaving the door ajar, and let them crawl their way to Dreamland.
...
"Ready for bed yet, kid?" Emma asked, poking her head into Henry's bedroom.
He was emerging swiftly into his teenage stage, with old clothes and forgotten toys strewn all over the place. In the middle of the room, he spun around with a handcrafted wooden sword in his grip. He looked to be in the midst of slaying a ferocious dragon, but was caught off-guard by an approaching yawn.
Just from his eyes, she could tell he was exhausted to the bone.
"No-o-ot yet," he protested, trying to stifle the yawn and failing. Emma gave him a pointed look that proved she wasn't buying it.
"Come on, into bed," she said, leaving no room for argument. If Henry had his wish, he would keep on going until he dropped. It didn't help that his no-good stepfather tended to fuel his late-night activities by sneaking him sweets every now and again.
The kid stowed his wooden sword under his bed and slid under the covers. Emma brushed the hair off his forehead and kissed him goodnight.
"Hey, Mom?" Henry asked hesitantly. She never got tired of hearing Henry call her that. He leaned up on his elbows, his face contorted with concern. "Are you worried about Isabelle?"
Emma lowered her head, her hair partly covering her face. All at once, every worry she had about Isabelle lately rushed to the surface. The tremendous power building up inside her each day, the fits of frost and rain, the potential threat she could bring to everyone around her.
Henry squeezed her hand, comforting her without words. They could get through this together. They had endured much worse before.
"Everything will be fine," she told him, though it came out sounding like she was trying to convince herself of it. "Yes, Isabelle has magic, but that doesn't change the way we love her or Mary or you. Your father and I will always do our best to take care of you. It's just difficult dealing with it. She's so young-she doesn't understand what she can do."
Henry shrugged and smiled considerately.
"I'll bet she has good magic. The kind you have," he said, tapping her hand. It was just like him to believe the best in people. He must have inherited it from his grandmother. For as long as Emma knew the kid, he was first and foremost a believer. Don't ever change, she silently pleaded. "Hey, maybe I have magic, too!"
Henry pointed his finger, as if he could make random objects fly around the room at will. Emma took ahold of his hand, just in case he could. Somehow, it wouldn't surprise her.
"Sure, kid. We're a family of wizards. Pretty soon, you might even get a letter from Hogwarts." That made Henry giggle. Every day, it sounded more like Rumpel's. "I'm proud of you," she said, turning serious. It was something she never wanted him to doubt.
"Can I show you what I learned?" He asked as his eyelids fluttered.
"Maybe tomorrow," she said, adjusting the covers so he was warm and comfortable. "We can make it a family thing. Your father and I can be there, and we'll even invite your grandparents along. Jefferson, Belle, Bae...hell, even the dogs. Then you can show us what you learned so far as a knight-in-training."
Henry smiled into his pillow. She gave him one last kiss on the forehead and blew out the candle on his bedside table. Like they did with the twins, she kept his door slightly open so that she and Rumpel would hear him call out.
"Goodnight, Henry," she whispered to him.
"Good...nigh..." His sleepy response floated through the darkness. If she didn't know any better, with his breathing deepening so quickly, she would say he was already asleep.
...
It was true that she made a big deal about indoor plumbing when they first arrived in the Enchanted Forest, but sometimes...she preferred a soothing, hot bath and a glass of wine before bed.
Emma drew a bath, letting the water become scalding hot. She sunk into the water until it reached her shoulders and sighed when it enveloped her skin. Her nerves began to uncoil automatically. She rubbed some sweet-smelling rose oil into her skin and the scent mixed with the vapor, filling the entire room.
She stayed that way for a few splendid moments, up to her neck now in rose-scented water and sipping wine. The troubles of the day rolled off her shoulders. Then she heard the door creak as it opened. She knew exactly who it would be, so she didn't bother rising from the tub or turning around.
She heard him deeply inhale the sweet fragrance that carried with the vapor and she heard it when his clothes whispered on the floor, parting with his body. A tender hand cupped her shoulder and she scooted forward in the tub so that he could slide in behind her. Afterwards, she reclined on his bare chest, lounging comfortably on his lap. His hands kneaded her hips under the water.
"How were the twins?" She inquired. It was oddly intoxicating, having a normal conversation with her husband while his hands freely explored every inch of her body underwater. More heady than the wine, that was for sure.
"No rainstorms, if that's what you mean," he said in her ear and his teeth grazed the lobe.
She held out her wine glass over her shoulder and he gulped down a good portion of it. Taking the glass, he set it down on the floor outside the tub. Then he dipped his head into the juncture of her neck and dragged his mouth over her skin, his lips still freshly coated in wine. Under the water, his gentle touch teased her inner thigh.
"Mm..." she moaned. He chuckled against her neck, greedily devouring her pleasure.
"How was Henry?" He played along with this sense of normalcy, all the while brushing his fingers up and down her thigh. It was difficult to remember his question, let alone answer it coherently, being so distracted.
"He...uh...wants to go to Hogwarts," she replied wryly. He let his head fall back and took a deep breath. She felt his chest expand and collapse while he struggled to calm his heart.
"Is that so?" He snickered.
Reaching for the wine glass again, he took another sip, this time licking the wine off his lips. He brought the glass around to her mouth and she shared in the rich drink. After the magic Rumpel expertly performed on her by touch alone, the drink seemed to have no effect. That man knew how to unravel her and he never let her forget it.
Of course, that road went both ways. Even now, she could feel the effect she had on him, pushing against the small of her back.
"Should we worry about Isabelle? And what if Mary has magic?" Doubts and fears poured out of her, like the hot water from the tap whenever Emma's foot hit the spigot just right.
Rumpel made a despairing noise, even as he rubbed rose oil into his palms and massaged her shoulders. Shoulders, back, hips, belly, breasts, and over again. It was relaxing, but still her worries fought for control over her mind. It was a brutal game of tug-of-war.
"The girls will be fine," he reassured her for what felt like the tenth time. Relax, his hands commanded as they squeezed the most sensitive nerves all over her body. "One thing is for certain: Mary charms everyone she meets. If she does have magic, she'll be a natural siren. But I don't want to worry tonight. I want us to enjoy this quiet evening together."
He kissed her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. Emma shifted around until she faced him, her legs straddling his waist. Then she returned his kiss, increasingly demanding.
Gripping the edge of the tub, she pushed harder against him, plunging down through the water to meet him. His hands gripped her hips, his accent thicker than usual as he begged her not to stop. They came together as one and it felt good to release the tension in her muscles once and for all.
When all was said and done, long after the water had cooled, she rested in his arms. He kissed her head, her mouth, her neck, her shoulders. Their hearts pounded together, their breath mingling over their flushed skin.
"I can taste the rose oil on you," he said, sucking the spot between her neck and shoulder. She tilted her head to give him better access. "Let me tell you: it doesn't taste as pleasant as it sounds." She playfully punched him on the chest for that remark.
"Maybe you're jealous because you don't have any yet," she taunted. Deliberately, she poured some oil in her hands and splashed it on his cheek like some kind of pretty aftershave. She rubbed it into his skin and then went to work on his chest.
"At least I'll smell pretty," he said, not bothering to hold her off. If Emma was determined enough, she would get her way. Halfway down his chest, she paused in rubbing. A perplexed frown hung on her lips and her gaze was far-off. "Dear? What's wrong?"
The sound of his voice, all at once hard and anxious, called her back. She blinked twice, then fixed him with a cold stare.
"What does it feel like when someone breaks past a magical ward? Say, if they sneak into the castle?"
Gods, he hoped she was speaking hypothetically. When he lost his magic, the wards he cast around his castle dissolved. Emma had used her magic to reactivate them and only she could sense intruders that triggered that magical alarm. For all we know, it could be a harmless bunny that lost its way.
"It feels like a pinprick on the neck. A tingling sensation, as if someone is standing right behind you and breathing down it," he explained and tried to lighten the mood by making his fingers dance over the nape of her neck. She squirmed, but didn't find humor in it. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened, in panic, not lust.
"I think...someone is inside the castle," she whispered. That was all he needed to hear. If he asked whether she was sure, he would most likely be punched in the face.
Together they leaped out of the tub, all playfulness thrown to the wind, and scrambled for their discarded clothes on the floor. Never had they dressed so fast. It could be a false alarm. It could be Bae or Jefferson or Belle or anyone else paying an unexpected late-night visit. Until they knew for certain, though, it was best to play it safe. Too many times people had snuck into his castle to slay the beast or steal a magical item out of desperation for a loved one in need.
"You go protect Henry," Emma demanded, tucking away her secret assortment of knives. This must be why she carried them, to always be prepared. She was so much like her mother. "I'll stay with the twins."
It was the best plan they had. Emma was the one with the magic now-she could fend off any attackers who happened to go near the nursery. He and Henry could lay low. Rumpel cupped Emma's chin and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Be safe," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. Then they went their separate ways, running like the devil was chasing them, ready to take down anything that stood in the way of their family.
...
Ever since he was a young boy, Henry had been more of a light sleeper than a heavy one. He always heard it whenever Graham visited late at night and when he tiptoed up the stairs with Regina. He always heard it when she got mad enough to beak something in the kitchen. The habit never broke.
Tonight he heard it when someone came running down the hallway to his bedroom. Henry jolted awake and sat up straight in bed. Through the slim crack in the door, he saw a shaft of light and the shadow of someone's body. Instinctively, he reached under his bed for his wooden sword. It made him feel safe.
The door burst open. At first, the light blinded him and all he could see was a swift, dark form marching to his bed. Henry struck out with the wooden sword as rough hands landed on his shoulders, pulling him up from the covers. The flat blade of the sword connected with flesh and someone groaned.
"Ow!" The dark shadow yelled out in pain and toppled onto the bed. It looked like they were clutching their knee.
"Sorry," Henry said hastily to the man he came to recognize as his father. He hoped he didn't hit too hard. Rumpel patted Henry on the arm, easing his shame.
"It's...alright. This leg has suffered worse. You were only defending yourself. That's not a bad thing," he reassured Henry. When his knee recovered, Rumpel jumped to his feet and almost pulled Henry out of the bed. This time, Henry didn't fight. "Come with me. Quickly."
Rumpel led him out of the room, stopping only to check the hallway before moving. Taking a sharp turn, they started in the direction of the library. Henry noticed that Rumpel's hair was slick and damp and that he smelled like roses instead of cologne.
Weren't baths supposed to make people relax? Only the twins despised bathwater. Or did Rumpel hate it as much as the babies? There were times when he let his inner child surface. Perhaps baths were one of those times.
"What's going on? Where's Emma?" Henry looked over his shoulder, but could see no sign of his mom or anyone else. From somewhere far down the hall, he heard one of the babies scream.
"She'll be fine, Henry, I promise. You just have to trust me," Rumpel said frantically, his voice strained with rising panic. I do, Henry thought, but somehow he couldn't make the words come out. Why did Rumpel seem so worried? There was something he wasn't saying.
Once they climbed the library stairs, taking the steps almost two at a time, Rumpel guided him to a bookcase at the other end. It was filled with gigantic, dusty tomes with names that were faded. Other books had names that Henry couldn't even pronounce because they were written in an unfamiliar language.
Rumpel yanked down one book on the highest shelf. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. Something groaned. Henry thought it belonged to a monster before the bookcase came apart from the wall, swinging away to reveal a hidden space. Cool, Henry mused as he and Rumpel stuffed their bodies inside. Rumpel held Henry in his arms, standing between him and the concealed doorway.
For a long time, they stood there, hidden away from whatever threat was lurking on the other side. It was humid and dark inside, with only the sound of their breathing in their ears. Again Henry caught a whiff of some rose fragrance on Rumpel's shirt.
"Why do you smell like roses?" Henry asked quietly. It was one of those times when he could not restrain a curious question that popped in his head. Rumpel bent his head and inhaled the scent wafting up from his skin.
"It's your mother's fault. Long story," he added when he registered Henry's bewildered tilt of the head. A loud conundrum came from downstairs, a mighty roar and the shriek of a tornado. Henry forgot any questions he might have asked next.
"What was that?" He wondered, squinting at the bookcase that blocked their way. It sounded like it came from deep inside the castle. Everything went quiet after that, the silence ringing in Henry's ears. Rumpel pushed against the bookcase and it opened easily.
"Let's go find out."
...
It was surprisingly simple to invade the Dark Castle, even with her superior magical ability. No walls of fire, no paralyzing zap of electricity, no acid rain or hidden booby-traps. Zelena was almost disappointed at the lack of a challenge. The only inkling of magic she felt was an invisible ward, about an inch or two outside the gates. It was like passing underneath a waterfall, hardly worth the worry.
They were practically inviting thieves to waltz in. Or was that part of the fun for Rumpelstiltskin? Thieves took advantage of the low level of security only to find themselves strung up by their toes in the dungeons or the unfortunate target of shooting practice. How macabre. She loved it.
Do your worst, she dared the little family of Stiltskins hiding out within the castle's walls.
Flinging open the doors like she owned the place, Zelena strode right in and mounted the grand staircase with purpose. Ah, the memories she made here. She was Rumpel's best student in magic and she could have excelled in other areas, had he given her the chance. Instead, he shoved her aside without a second thought and chose some snooty blonde to warm his bed.
She could have had this luxury, but it was ripped out from under her feet, denied her like everything else in her life. I could have dined like a queen at that table! I could have slept in these rooms! I could have woken with the dawn-in his arms!
Her rage and jealousy grew with every step she took toward that nursery. This would change everything. They would fall on their knees, begging her not to end their pitiful lives. And she would refuse. It was her time to shine.
The nursery was very quiet. There was no one inside but the two little children in the crib. Two sisters clinging to each other even in sleep. Well, isn't that sweet? She thought mockingly, leaning over the crib to inspect the twins.
Now, which one had the supreme magical power? She thought it was the one with the tuft of dark hair...or was it the one with the golden hair? Better take them both, just to be safe, she decided on a whim. What if both children possessed magical powers? Oh, the weapons she would have at her disposal.
Zelena picked up the babe with the dark hair. So young, yet so much potential for power. Almost immediately, the baby wriggled anxiously in her arms. When it sensed that the hands holding it did not belong to its mother, it let out a wrenching cry.
"No, no, no," Zelena hissed, shushing it. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work! She was supposed to grab the child, get in, and get out. No alarms sounded, or else she would leave a trail of bodies in her wake. "Sh! Stop that nonsense! Right now!"
If anything, the child cried harder. Its pudgy face turned red and Zelena was getting annoyed with it. Children at this age could be so fussy and frustrating.
The glass baby mobile above the crib swayed. The unicorns swung back and forth, faster and faster. As Zelena watched, the baby mobile showed the first signs of frost. It coated the glass, spreading faster with each second. This must be it, she thought wondrously, looking from the mobile to the screaming baby in her arms. This child is a natural, indeed. That's it, darling-let it out.
The baby cried furiously and the mobile turned to ice. When the frost grew too heavy, the mobile stopped moving completely. Layers upon layers of ice shined in the moonlight. Zelena drew in a breath, admiring the beauty of the magic she had witnessed.
Then the baby mobile exploded into a million pieces. Fragments of ice scattered the room, a whirlwind of glass soaring straight for Zelena and the screaming baby. The thing had no clue what it had done; it just went on screeching.
Miraculously, just as Zelena shielded her eyes, the pieces of broken glass and ice halted in midair. Then they rained on the floor at Zelena's feet. I could have done that, she sneered, shuffling the shards away with her boot. It wasn't until she caught movement in the corner of her eye that she realized what had done that. What had protected the babies from being pierced by dozens of glass shards.
Their mother.
"Hey!" That uptight blonde woman shouted. Did she think that was intimidating or something? "Get your hands off my daughter!"
Zelena tossed her head back and laughed.
"Or you'll do what? Throw some tea in my face? Swat me with a broomstick?" Where was her big, bad husband? Cowering in a corner of his castle? Letting his trophy wife do the dirty work? Or was this to appease her? Oh, dearie, you shouldn't have.
"Thanks for the suggestion," the blonde woman remarked. Just like that, Zelena was taken by surprise when something hard smacked her on the back. The baby flew out of her hands, but the blonde woman must have been expecting it. With a wave of her hand, the baby dropped safely into its mother's arms.
Zelena was too distracted to retaliate. A second broom joined the first, beating her stomach. The force of the blow pushed her backwards into the first broom, which then sent her lurching forward again. Then came a third, whacking her on the head.
This is ridiculous! With a furious roar, Zelena spread her arms wide and the brooms disintegrated into dust. She set her sights on the baby rocking in its mother's arm. The second one had woken, echoing its sister's cry. Perhaps she would take that one instead.
"Enough games. I am not leaving without these children!" She charged forward, already imagining how she would knock off her opponent's head. The blonde cinched her brows together and used the crib as a barricade. She pointed to Zelena's feet.
The balcony doors burst open behind her. An unnaturally strong wind lifted Zelena off her feet and she sailed out the door, her arms flapping as she tried to grab ahold of something. She landed flat on her back outside the walls of the castle.
That didn't exactly go as I planned, she thought, miffed and brushing the dirt from her cloak. She stared up at the Dark Castle in dismay. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but for an instant, her magic hadn't been as strong as her opponent's. All she could do was retreat to her sanctuary and lick her wounds.
...
In the nursery, Emma held her little girl to her breast and cooed softly to keep her from crying again. Her hair was windblown and her nerves were frayed. She didn't know who that woman was, but she would be ready if she ever came back.
What the hell did she want with her children? Did she know Isabelle possessed great power?
"Is it safe to come in?" Her husband edged open the door. The way he looked at her, full of wonder and relief, suggested he knew what happened. "I think the other side of the Enchanted Forest could hear your scuffle."
Henry came in behind him. He ran to Emma's side and she hugged him tightly to her chest. She did the same with Rumpel, savoring the security his embrace offered. He took Isabelle off her hands. Mary started to whine again, so Emma picked her up.
"You said it yourself before: never underestimate someone who is fighting for their child," she said.
"Indeed," he agreed, though he appeared grim, eyeing the open balcony doors for intruders. Emma grabbed his hand, rubbing circles into his palm. Their family was safe. For now.
"Who was she?" She didn't miss the dark recognition in Rumpel's eyes. Or the fear.
"Her name is Zelena."
...