A/N: Hello, everyone! Sorry it took so long to update this chapter. I've been doing a lot of thinking, mostly about where I want this story to go. I have more of a solid plan for it now, so hopefully I won't take too long to update it next time. As always, I'd like to thank those that have read and reviewed.
Happy holidays and enjoy the chapter!
The more Isabelle grew, the more her powers were heightened as well.
At first, it would be as simple as a couple of snowflakes drifting over the crib, a thin layer of frost if Isabelle held too tightly onto someone's hand while crying, or making her parents shiver when they kissed her. Then one evening, when Isabelle was fussier than usual, a blizzard began to blow outside the Dark Castle. Rumpel wasn't entirely sure whether it was Mother Nature putting her foot down.
Soon after that, Emma got into the habit of feeding Isabelle with a bottle.
"Your turn to feed the twins," she would say and push a warm bottle into his hand. The first time he did it, he felt unsure. It had been a long time since he cared for a child.
"You do it so much better. Naturally," he protested. He didn't mean to peek at Emma's swollen breasts when she bent down to place Isabelle in his arms. When Emma sent him a chilly glare, he put the bottle to Isabelle's lips. He started to see the problem when Isabelle sucked hard and the bottle became coated in the thinnest layer of ice.
"Why don't you try dealing with frostbite of the nipple when she sucks too hard?" Personally, Rumpel never wanted to know what that was like. So he fed the twins without further argument.
There was one morning in particular that was amazing and terrifying to behold at the same time.
Rumpel woke that morning comfortably entwined in Emma's arms, instantly blissful. Those kind of mornings were his favorite, when the first thing he saw upon waking was Emma's intense green eyes. That morning, he awoke first and stirred her with a soft brush of magic across her cheek and a kiss on the lips. He was pleased to see she still craved his touch, even after he absorbed his magic once more at the cost of being barren.
Just when her arms embraced him and guided him on top of her, one of the twins cried out. Emma sighed and sunk her head on his shoulder. He patted her hip and rolled off of her.
"I've got it," Rumpel reassured her. Emma threw back the covers, intent on going with him, but he stopped her with a gentle touch on the shoulder. "Rest." She was exhausted from the effort of caring for the twins. She had never raised Henry properly, let alone two little girls. Let alone one with magic.
"Depends. What will my price be?" Emma teased, though she settled back on the bed. He could see she was anxious to run to her children, her natural motherly instincts kicking in. Rumpel smirked.
"Hm...for my lovely wife? A favor will do," he replied devilishly and winked. He thought he saw a faint blush rise to Emma's cheeks. It was beautiful. "If I don't return in five minutes, then come," he said, only half-joking. With magic once again pumping along his fingertips, he was confident he could handle any threat that dared to invade his castle. Let them come, he thought boldly.
When he was close to the twins' nursery, he recognized Mary's shrill cries. Isabelle was oddly quiet. At the very least, it might mean a diaper change instead of a snowman coming to life.
Then he opened the door to the nursery. He already sensed the chill seeping under the door. Half of the bedroom was covered in patches of ice. The floor was slick and gleamed like a mirror; the minute he laid a foot down the wrong way, he landed on his rear end. Tiny snowflakes hovered in the air.
And Mary was shrieking because she was cold.
Rumpel crawled on all fours to reach the crib without slipping a second time. At the last second, he considered melting the ice with magic, using his hand as a personal blowdryer. When he reached into the crib to soothe Mary, he noticed that Isabelle wasn't affected by the cold at all. She slept on, indifferent to the severe drop in temperature. It wasn't too peculiar for a magic user to be protected from the magic they cast. Those who specialized in fire would not suffer from scorching heat. Likewise, those who specialized with ice did not experience the cold the way others did.
"Shh...Papa's here. I'll keep you warm," he murmured to Mary in his arms.
With the softest spurts of magic, he warmed her up by degrees, bringing a rosy pink tint to her cheeks. Soon enough, Mary stopped crying. He didn't want to split up the twins, but he wondered what might happen if Isabelle's magic went out of control and Mary got too cold.
"All magic comes with a price," he whispered hauntingly. Maybe, until the twins were older, they should put them in separate rooms. He would have to discuss it with Emma.
"Is it me or is it draftier than usual?" Henry appeared in the doorway, clad in his pajamas, mouth stretched wide with a yawn. His hands rubbed his arms to ward off the cold. "Whoa," he gasped and his eyes shot open to witness the snow falling from the ceiling. Opening his mouth, he managed to catch one on his tongue. "Can we build a snowman?"
"You can build one outside," Rumpel replied and cocked his head toward the frost-painted window. The last time it snowed this hard on his mountain was the winter Belle arrived at his castle. That spring had also been one of the warmest. "Let's not make the inside of our castle a winter wonderland."
"Aww," Henry moaned, clearly disappointed. Rumpel could tell the boy was fascinated by magic, but there was something very special about being able to do it inside. "I wish I had magic. I would make an army of snowmen without ever going outside."
"No, you don't. Magic causes more trouble than it grants wishes," Rumpel advised. He clenched his fist beneath Mary's blanket. Once more, he wondered why he needed magic so desperately. Of course he needed it to protect his family from Zelena, but he had kept it afterward. I won't let it control me again, he vowed, even while he felt the darkness ebb around his heart.
And, because he felt sorry for Henry, because he rather liked having the means to spoil his children, he conjured a pile of snow for him. Henry gleefully dived into it. Rumpel turned and rocked Mary in his arms, lulling her back to sleep. He glanced down at Isabelle, his sleeping enchantress.
Would magic burden Isabelle the same way it did him? They would need to be careful with her at all times, to teach her right from wrong. The line could so easily blur when one possessed incredible magic at a whim.
Something hard and cold smashed into the back of his neck. Icy tendrils slid down his neck, making him shiver. He reached up to wipe away a stream of moisture, the snow already melted through his fingers.
Henry had thrown a snowball. When Rumpel spun to glance accusingly at his boy, Henry shuffled some of the snow with his foot and whistled. So innocent. Unfortunately, Rumpel knew how to recognize deception. Besides, there was no one else in the room with them.
"Gee, I wonder who could have thrown that snowball? Must have been Isabelle," Rumpel taunted. Henry clamped his lips together and tried not to giggle. "So, you're turning my magic against me, hm? We'll see about that. Sorry, little one, I need to put you down for a moment. Your brother needs to be taught a lesson...on how to really throw a snowball."
Rumpel laid Mary in the crib next to her sister, but he made sure to bundle her up in extra layers to keep her warm. Behind him, he heard Henry packing another snowball, so he quickly conjured a perfect one in his palm. Then he flung it at Henry like a baseball. It hit Henry on the side of the head.
Henry closed his eyes and tumbled into the pile of snow. The snowball he had been so busy packing together slipped from his grasp and rolled away. He didn't get up. Rumpel watched him carefully and began to panic.
Did he hit him too hard? Could you hurt someone with a snowball if it was thrown hard enough?
"Henry?" Rumpel called out. His voice strained with the worry that was hastily growing inside him. When the boy didn't rise, Rumpel dashed to his side, his heart hammering in his chest. "Henry?" He took Henry into his arms and wiped the snow off his face. No, this could not happen. He didn't mean it. He never wanted to hurt his family, especially not with magic. He shook the boy lightly, but Henry's head lolled. "Henry, please...I'm so sorry."
Henry's eyes fluttered and he shifted in Rumpel's arms.
"Me, too," he mumbled. Without warning, Henry's arm shot up and he planted another mound of snow on Rumpel's head.
Rumpel was frozen in shock-and not because a piece of ice slid under his collar. This was all...a trick? A game? Rumpel could not hope to calm his rapidly pulsing heart, even while Henry burst into laughter and sat up in the snow. For a brief second, he had been convinced he had hurt Henry.
"What's going on in here?" They looked up to see Emma's head poking into the room. It must have been over five minutes. She tucked the folds of her robe tightly around her body to shield herself from the cold. She saw the pile of snow and her eyebrows rose. "Isabelle?"
"Nope. Papa and I were having a snowball fight," Henry said, sounding quite pleased. Emma looked to Rumpel and he tried to cover up his lingering anxiety.
"Yes. Henry won," he said.
"We only just started," Henry complained.
Emma's smile was tense as she ruffled Henry's hair. He twisted his head out of her reach-he hated it when she did that now. Rumpel knew the reason Emma was tense. She still wasn't too fond of magic inside the castle, even less now that her daughter wielded it so unexpectedly. She often compared it to a loaded gun waiting to go off. She was counting the days until someone got hurt in the crosshairs.
"Maybe he'll help you build a snowman outside. Or, even better, you can drag your other father out of bed to do it. Centuries after being fourteen and he still sleeps like a teenager."
Rumpel couldn't help but twitch his lips at that. It must be a side effect of Bae spending so much time as a fourteen-year-old boy in Neverland. It was hard to shake. Those hormones must be overwhelming, too.
"Great idea," Henry exclaimed. He leaped up from the pile of snow and hurried off to find his biological father's room down the hall. Rumpel could only imagine the requests Henry would make of Bae after the promise of swordfighting lessons with Charming. He thought he overheard Henry asking Bae about rolling down the mountain and tracking wolves in the forest.
Emma wandered to his side and extended a hand to help him up. Even though he could levitate off the floor if he wanted to, he accepted her hand. He was trying his best to restrain the temptation of using magic, though it sometimes required him to bite his tongue until it bled.
"You look like you've seen a ghost. In fact, that pile of snow right there has more color than you do now," Emma pointed out. He reached up to touch his jaw and realized his skin was slightly clammy. Was his fear that transparent?
Rumpel twirled his finger and the pile of snow drifted away into nothing. The temperature of the room rose a few more degrees. When at last his hand fell, his expression was fearful and broken.
"Henry threw a snowball at me, so I conjured one of my own and threw it back. Only, it hit his head and he collapsed. It was a trick on his part, so I could get close enough to let him hit me with another snowball, but...I was so afraid I had hurt him."
He stared down at his hands, as if they were fiendish tools with a mind of their own. Emma took one of his hands and he shuddered. What if he accidentally hurt her, too? She grasped his hand and led him into the comforting circle of her arms.
"Don't be afraid," she said and kissed his fingers to prove she had no fear. "If there's anything I learned about magic, it's that strong emotions have an effect on the way it's wielded. That's why Isabelle is unpredictable right now. What do you think fear does to magic?"
For centuries, he had never been afraid of the magic he wielded. He had embraced it, relied on it, used it as he would use his own hands. Now, when he was trying so hard to keep it at bay, he realized how easy it was to fall back on it and make a mistake.
He never wanted to hurt those he held dear.
"I know. I shouldn't fear my magic. It's not spinning out of control. Everything I do is my own will, but the last thing I want is for someone to get hurt. Maybe...I can find a way to numb the magic. Make it less tempting and harder to summon."
There were only a few ways he knew of to get rid of magic completely-death or true love's kiss. The only reason Emma's kiss hadn't driven his magic away was because he clung to it fiercely. He refused to give it up, for the sake of protecting his family. If he could find a way to dull that temptation, by some spell or potion, it might be easier to live with. At least until he learned to control it on his own terms.
"What about Isabelle?" Emma inquired and hitched her chin toward the crib. Both babies continued to snooze softly, but Rumpel wondered how long it would be before her powers froze the room entirely. What if she turned Mary into a human Popsicle one of these mornings?
"It was colder before you came in here. Mary was crying from the cold. Perhaps we should consider putting the twins in separate rooms," he suggested. Since Isabelle wasn't bothered by the cold, she would not suffer alone in her crib. Only Mary. Emma knocked her knuckle against her teeth, thinking.
"I hate to think about separating them...but if something happens to Mary..." Better safe than sorry, right? Finally, she was defeated, and she nodded. It was for the best, until Isabelle grew older and learned to control her powers.
It was with a heavy heart that Rumpel reached down to scoop up Mary and carry her out of the nursery.
...
Henry wasn't exactly himself when he helped Bae and Ariel build a snowman outside the Dark Castle. He wasn't as excited as he should have been. Even while he stuck broken twigs into the snowman's torso to give him arms, his mind drifted on the wind. He kept stopping to think. Sometimes the musical sound of Ariel's laughter woke him up and he started rolling the snow again.
Every now and then, he would peek at Bae and Ariel. Together they gathered stones from the frozen earth to use for the snowman's smile and eyes. Bae would brush the snowflakes from Ariel's mane of red hair. Ariel would scoot closer to him for warmth, her legs tucked under her like her mermaid tail often did. They were laughing; they were happy.
For some reason, Henry was finding it hard to join in.
No, he knew the reason, deep down.
It was the memory of Rumpel's face from that morning, when Henry had tricked him with the snowball. His face was so frightened, so broken, all because Henry had to be sneaky.
Was it the fear of hurting him that made him look that way? After all, he had already lost one son because of his magic.
Henry knew magic could be dangerous, but it could also be beautiful. That was why true love's kiss existed, because that was the most powerful, purest magic. There were people who wielded their magic like a weapon, people like Regina, but there were also people who used it for the greater good. To save people, like Emma did. Even Isabelle created unique, beautiful snowflakes even though she didn't mean it.
Part of him secretly wished he could have magic, even for a day, if only to see what it felt like. He didn't want to be normal. Henry looked up at the half-finished snowman and imagined having the power to bring him to life.
Why, if his snowman came to life by his hand, it would be funny, not dangerous. The snowman would blink his eyes, wave his twig-arms about, open his mouth wide, and say to Henry-
"Think fast!" A snowball hit Henry in the back of the head. It was icy and chunks of it slid into his coat. Henry didn't play dead this time. Bae came to his side with a guilty look spread across his face. "You were daydreaming. What's on your mind, kid?"
Henry fell back on his butt in the snow.
"Talking snowmen," he answered. It wasn't a lie, not really. Ariel excitedly hopped up from the snow and ran over to join them. She almost slipped on a patch of ice, but she danced over it like a ballerina.
"Ooh, I know a talking fish and a crab," she offered. Henry smiled politely. If only he could watch each Disney movie based on the people he knew. Regina never gave him access to those movies when she raised him. It had always been her fear that he would connect the magic in those movies to the cursed town and expose her as the Evil Queen. Bae gave them both weird looks.
"Look, I've lived here...for all of fourteen years. Granted, that's not a lot and I didn't exactly travel the world, but I have my doubts that there are talking fish, crabs, or snowmen. Only in the world of Disney would that ever happen."
Ariel gave him a scornful look. Wordlessly, she picked up a handful of snow and smashed it in Bae's face. Henry figured that sort of thing was bound to happen if you insinuated her friends didn't exist.
"Jefferson told me there's a talking rabbit in Wonderland. And a talking caterpillar. And a talking cat," Henry said matter-of-factly. "So why can't there be talking fish, crabs, and snowmen?"
"Snow talks to birds," Ariel added in. "Not this stuff; I mean the real Snow," she corrected, kicking her boot through the white powder at her feet. Bae gave up trying to argue.
"Is that all you were thinking of, Henry? You looked pretty down for someone fantasizing about bringing snowmen to life," Bae pressed him for answers. Henry did what he usually did when he was guilty or nervous and looked up at Bae from under his snowflake-kissed eyelashes.
"I think...I scared Papa today," he said. Bae cocked his head curiously. "This morning, Isabelle made it snow again. When I walked into the nursery, I asked if I could build a snowman, but he said I could do it outside. I think he felt bad because he made a pile of snow for me. I threw a snowball at him. Then he threw one back, but I sort of played dead so I could trick him and throw a snowball when he was up-close. I didn't mean to scare him, and he didn't say he was afraid, but I could see it in his eyes."
Bae looked troubled. He clapped Henry softly on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about it. There are a lot of things that scare him. It was only a joke and I'm sure he knows that. He'll get over it. You'll see."
Henry wasn't so sure. He knew Rumpel's fears often ran deep. Bae hadn't been there to see how afraid Rumpel was about possibly hurting him with his magic. Everything had been tense in their castle since Isabelle started showing signs of magic and Rumpel got his powers back.
Henry really wanted to be able to share that magic at least once.
"I wish I could have magic," he told Bae. "So I could bring him to life." He tilted his chin to the headless snowman. That wasn't the only reason he wanted magic, but he didn't really want Bae to know the other reasons.
"Maybe you should ask the Blue Fa-" Ariel started to suggest, but Bae frantically waved his hands to shush her. He glanced up at the tower, but the window was closed. The castle was eerily still and quiet.
"Sorry. I'm pretty sure my father has a sensor in place for when you say that name. He doesn't like fairies and anyone that mentions Blue is usually banned from his home. Personally I think he needs to have another session with Archie," Bae said. Then he looked at Henry with a serious expression. "Henry, you don't want magic. Trust me; it's more trouble than it's worth."
Henry wondered if Bae was reminiscing about the time he fell through the portal or the time Regina commanded Rumpel to toss him from the clock tower in Storybrooke. Either way, even if Bae claimed to accept the magic that his father and Emma possessed, he still wasn't fond of the idea of it.
"That's what he said," Henry mused. Bae seemed surprised to hear it.
"Really?" Henry nodded. Bae stroked his jaw, absorbing this detail with an incredulous look. "For once, he's right. Look what magic did to him and to your...great-grandmother, Regina."
"Step-great-grandmother," Henry stated. Bae was more confused than ever, his palms rubbing his eyes. It was difficult to understand their complicated family tree. "Not all magic is bad. Isabelle isn't bad yet. There are people like Jefferson and Emma, who try to use their magic to help others. She's the savior. They're special."
Bae sucked in a harsh breath. From his face, Henry realized that Bae had figured something out. Not something that he particularly liked, either. His face twisted up as if he tasted a lemon.
"You think just because you don't have magic that you're not special?" Henry could only dip his head and close his eyes. He had longed to be a part of this enchanting world, to help break the curse that had been cast over Storybrooke, but at the end of the day he was only normal. "You're wrong. You are special even without magic. You knew the truth of the curse before anyone else in Storybrooke. You helped Emma believe she's the savior. She couldn't have done her job without you there. Your heart is the purest I've seen. You know your parents, myself included, will love you for who you are, with or without magic."
He squeezed Henry's shoulder and waited until Henry met his eyes. Henry nodded to show he understood. Of course, there was a difference between understanding and believing.
"Now, what should we call him?" Bae asked. Rising to his feet, he stood taller than the headless snowman. Technically, it was only the size of Henry. The three of them mulled over it for a long time.
"How about...Olaf?" Ariel suggested. Henry couldn't help but snicker at the name. It was different, that was for sure. Bae was bewildered by it.
"Olaf? That's the first name you would choose for a snowman?" He shook his head pitifully and checked with Henry. "What do you say?"
"I like it," Henry agreed. Now Bae's eyes widened. His head swiveled back and forth between Ariel and Henry, looking at them suspiciously as if they had sprouted three heads.
"Most kids pick the name Frosty," he said. Henry didn't like that one. It was too obvious and boring. "You know, Frosty the Snowman?" Bae started to quietly sing the classic Christmas tune, but Henry didn't recognize it. Regina never let him watch those old Christmas cartoons, either.
"Never heard of it," he said with a careless shrug. Bae was stunned. He threw his arms in the air in exasperation.
"What did the Evil Queen teach you?"
...
"Almost done with the first batch," Rumpel announced, using a dropper to add a few last ingredients to the bubbling potion on his worktable. It was frothy and green like radioactive waste. Emma didn't like the look of it, but her husband was adamant about finding a way to dull his and Isabelle's magic.
She wished this land came equipped with the Internet. It might be easier to Google how to control magic powers. Turning to the window, she rocked Isabelle in her arms and watched Henry build a slanted snowman with Bae and Ariel outside. Mary babbled away happily, tucked into her little swing by Rumpel's table. Every now and then, Rumpel would put down the vial, clean off his hands with a rag, and rock Mary in her swing until she laughed. It was a far cry from the formidable Dark One.
"And...done! Time to test it." Of course, it wasn't like he had a lab rat to feed it to, so he would have to toss it back himself.
"If you turn yourself into a flying monkey, don't expect me to share my bed with you," Emma said. Ever since they had become intimate in their relationship, they had done some incredibly rough and crazy things in bed, but that was where she drew the line. Rumpel scrunched his nose.
"Emma, I have been doing this for centuries. I assure you I know exactly what I'm doing." He raised the vial to his lips and downed the potion. Every last drop. Emma pulled a sour face. The only thing left to do was wait to see what happened.
"Whoa," Rumpel murmured and gripped the edge of the table. His eyes flew wide. He looked like he was going to be sick. "That...does not feel right..."
As he stumbled to the window, he began to bounce on his feet. He jumped from one foot to the other, as if the ground were too hot to touch. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He spun in place, faster and faster, until Emma was sure he would take off like a tornado. Thrusting open the window, he stuck his head out for air and perhaps to empty his stomach. Instead, Rumpel opened his mouth and a pillar of fire erupted from his lips. He coughed and another stream of flame shot out.
A third time Rumpel threw his head forward and let out a tongue of flame. His nails clawed the windowsill and he would have fallen out the window, if Emma hadn't tugged him back by the collar. His skin was blistering hot, even without touching it.
Rumpel slid down to the floor and clutched his belly. He coughed again, but all that came out was a wisp of smoke.
"I think...it's over," he whispered. His voice was barely a rasp; a result of his throat straining to release an unnatural surge of fire. Emma kept her distance and held the baby in the arm farthest from Rumpel.
"Sorry, but there's no way you're giving our baby a potion that's going to turn her into a human torch," she protested. Rumpel got to his feet, though he wobbled when he took his first step. He wiped the moisture from his cheeks, the sweat from his forehead. Lumbering over to the worktable, he reached for a new, clean vial.
"Back to square one," he sighed. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach rolled. "That won't be fun when it comes out the other end. It's worse than a buffet of Mexican food."
Emma couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Still, she wouldn't go near him until she was certain he could breathe normally without lighting up the place. It was for the safety of her child, if not herself. She carried Isabelle to the window for some fresh air. Down in the courtyard, Henry, Bae, and Ariel had stopped building the snowman and stared up at the tower. She waved down to them. They're probably wondering what we're getting up to in here, she thought.
Her gaze lifted to the stretch of forest laid out before her. The Enchanted Forest was enormous, filled with fairy tale creatures of all kinds. Some had magic, some did not. That was when she got to thinking.
"I wonder if there are any magic-users out there like Isabelle. Maybe we should find them and see how their lives turned out," she hinted. Surely Isabelle couldn't be the only one that specialized in these powers. Someone must have found a solution. When she turned to gauge her husband's reaction, she caught him with a grimace.
"There are many in this land who possess magic, dear. They all have their troubles. It is difficult to love something you do not understand. Some left their families because it is the only protection they could grant. Some were cast out by the ones that claim to love them. If there is a solution for happy-go-lucky magic, other than death, true love's kiss, or a land without magic, it has yet to be found."
Emma's heart ached with nostalgia for that land without magic, but this was her home now. Storybrooke was empty; she had done her job as the savior and brought everyone home where they belong. Leaving was out of the question. So was giving up her child. Abandoning Isabelle would not be giving their daughter her best chance.
Emma kissed her daughter's forehead. I love you. All of you.
Somehow, they would find a way to keep her magic intact while protecting her, Mary, and Henry. The magic Isabelle was born with was a gift, not a curse. To shun it and shield it would be to reject a part of their daughter.
"I don't care if our daughter has magic. I love her," she said passionately.
"I know. So do I," he said.
A grave expression crossed his face. It was unsettling to think about, but Emma had her suspicions that he saw Isabelle's magic in the worst light, as a threat. After all, his own magic had caused him enough grief over the years. His power was dark, demanding, and unpredictable.
He approached Emma and caressed her cheek. Bending his head, he kissed Isabelle. At least he wasn't coughing up flames.
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course," Emma said in a heartbeat. The first potion hadn't been successful, but he was doing all he could to help Isabelle. That made him far better than the parents that decided to shun their magical children. "I just think we should get a second opinion from someone with experience in the snowflake department."
Rumpel's forehead wrinkled, his mind deeply absorbed in thought. He opened his mouth to answer-or were the flames starting up again?-but he was interrupted by a set of footsteps on the stairs. Henry's face appeared over the railing, his cheeks red and raw from the biting blizzard. Snow dripped from his boots and clothes.
"Did I miss something or are we keeping a pet dragon?"
...
It was Rumpel's turn to bathe the twins after dinner. He asked if Henry wanted to help him, but the kid and Emma exchanged wary looks before Henry stuck his nose in his old favorite storybook. The disaster with the suds last time must have been worse than he thought.
Alone, Rumpel carried his little twins upstairs, to the tub closest to his bedroom. This one was quite big in size, capable of fitting ten people, but he had installed two miniature baby baths into the inner edge of it so he could run the water and easily wash the babies.
First he got Mary out of her shirt and diaper, then set her gently into her baby bath. Isabelle was a little fussier tonight, moving her legs like she was planning to run away the first chance she got.
"I know you hate baths, little one, but it's for your own good," he whispered to his daughter. At the moment, she didn't exactly smell like a rose. He ran the water in the tub and waited until it was lukewarm. He poured some water into their baths and began to wash them down with a cloth.
Mary was the easiest, so he worked on washing her first, dragging the soapy cloth over her wiggling arms and legs. Her curious eyes wandered in every direction, never lingering on anything for too long. It seemed she didn't mind the water. He started to think she moved her legs just to make a splash. Even her hair did not take too much of an effort to wash.
Isabelle, on the other hand, was getting irritated with being in the water. Rumpel used the soap on his hands to blow bubbles to Isabelle to catch her attention.
"One done, one to go," Rumpel said as he finished washing down Mary. He rinsed her body with water and let her play in the puddle while he turned toward his other daughter.
It was Isabelle's turn. The minute he dumped the washcloth in the warm water and brought it to Isabelle's flat chest, she started to whine. She was restless, squirming around in her bath. He didn't understand why she wasn't fond of water when her specialty was frost. Maybe the water was too warm for her taste.
"Sh," he soothed her. "It's alright. Oh, you poor little raincloud. Don't cry. Please."
Bad things would happen if she cried.
Apparently Isabelle didn't want to be stuck in the bath anymore. He tried to distract her with the bubbles while he cleaned her legs with soap, but not even those shiny floating spheres worked. He could see it in her eyes-she was upset and ready to let the world know it. He was desperate to prevent it.
Not now. Please.
"Isabelle Morraine, don't you dare cry," he ordered.
He must have said the magic word. All of a sudden, Isabelle's mouth split open and unleashed a piercing wail. Rumpel stroked her head in hopes of calming her, but it was too late. The sound of Isabelle's anger upset Mary and she started to cry too. The bubbles didn't work. They didn't want their bottles or binkies.
Rumpel panicked. He hurried to clean up Isabelle so he could get the twins out of their baths as quickly as possible. Before anything bad happened.
Isabelle's cheeks reddened with her effort of bawling. The temperature in the room began to drop and Mary cried harder. Almost as if Isabelle treated it like a competition, she screamed harder and drowned out her twin. Soon Rumpel shivered. Snowflakes swirled over the tub and he could see his breath, a cloud of fog drifting in front of his nose.
"Isabelle, please-"
It was no use. The sound of her father's voice did not sway her. Then, to his horror, he dipped his fingers into Isabelle's bath and found the water cold. There was no way it would have become so cold so fast if not for Isabelle. In Mary's bath, the water began to freeze.
"No!" Instinctively, he pulled Mary out of the tub and wrapped her tightly in a warm woolen blanket. Even if Isabelle wasn't bothered by the cold, he lifted her out of her tub and swaddled her instead of letting the water shift into an ice rink.
Someone came running. When he looked up, he saw Emma standing in the doorway. Her eyes darted from the twins in their blankets to the baby baths that started to crackle with ice.
"What happened?" Rumpel looked forlorn, his shoulders shaking. He had raised Bae on his own once upon a time, and he had dealt with many childish tantrums, but nothing of this magnitude. He didn't know how to handle it and, if he was being honest, he was afraid.
"It was an accident," he said. Emma rushed into the room to take Mary from his side. The baby had stopped crying so hard, at least. Isabelle still whimpered, but her shrieks had faded. "I was giving the twins their bath. Isabelle started crying. You know what happens after that." He gestured to the two baths decorated with frost and ice.
Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was tired, emotionally and physically. It was plain to see. Tired of running to the rescue, even now. Tired of walking on eggshells and waiting for the next disaster to strike.
Rumpel held his daughter close and kissed her head. I know you didn't mean it, little one, he thought. He understood how demanding and unpredictable magic could be when first obtained. As with every other skill, it took practice to wield properly. Occasionally, it came with a cost. Perhaps you would be better off concealing it after all. It's nothing but a burden.
Emma looked him in the eye and let out a ragged breath.
"Still doubtful about getting a second opinion?"
...