Agatha's grandmother pressed her for details until she felt the story as wrung out as a dry cloth. "Oh, that horrible...creature, to think that he can take you away, even after..." She fell silent. "Grandmother?" Agatha asked, edging closer to the well - worn rocking chair. "What did he do to you?"
She rocked back and forth, her head in wrinkled hands. "Not to me, child, but to your mother." She sighed heavily and looked up, her bright blue eyes bloodshot from crying. She clasped Agatha's hand in hers. "It was some time ago, not long after your father was killed by bandits. Your mother was sick with grief, and she was desperate enough to ask him for help. He got revenge for your father, and in return," she teared up," he asked for her firstborn when the child had turned fourteen. Then he killed her for trying to steal from him." Her grandmother started sobbing. Agatha was shocked, but instead of grief, she felt a rage, subtle as a smoldering fire.
Agatha frowned suddenly. She hadn't told anybody about her connection with Gwaine, nor had she seen him since Rumplestiltskin spared her for another year. Better now than never, she decided. "Grandmother?"
"Yes?" She looked up again, bleary-eyed. "What is it?"
"When I had been taken by the the soldiers, I met this one...He called himself Gwaine. He watched over me during the night, and he was certainly different than any soldier."
"Agatha, you foolish child, what were you thinking?!"
"But, Grandmother-"
"What have I told you about men?They're only after one thing, especially that lot that toted you off-"
"But, he's a knight, a noble one! He defended me from Rumplestiltskin!"
That got her attention. She stared up at Agatha, shocked. "You were almost captured by that...monster?"
"I nearly was, but he let me go. Haven't you ever wondered why I was allowed to stay for another year?"
"And this...Gwaine, stopped him?"
"Nearly, but Rumplestiltskin said the Round Table awaited him, and he gave up fighting."
Her grandmother was in a rage. "How dare he? He's no more fit to be a knight than that scorcerer is to kiss my boots!"
"Grandmother, it was his dream to be a knight!"
"Oh yes, and being a knight that flees a fight when a lady's life is a stake will most definitely get him into King Arthur's court!"
"But, Rumplestiltskin's the most powerful in the land! You can't really blame Gwaine."
"I can when the lady is my own granddaughter!" The fight seemed to go out of her at last. She slumped back in her chair. "What did Rumplestiltskin want?"
"He wanted me to become his apprentice, and if I don't, he'll kill me," Agatha nearly sobbed with fear. "But I have to go. I owe it to Mother's memory."
"I can't let you, Agatha. You're all I have left of your mother. I may never see you again!" she cried, lurching up from her chair.
"But, he'll find me for sure, and he'll kill me or torture me, or hold me prisoner forever!" she yelled. "I just have to!"
A sudden change came over her. Her eyes became distant, her lids heavy. She placed her hands on Agatha's head. "You have my blessing, Agatha." She sat in her chair, staring into the fire. "Goodbye, Grandmother," Agatha said as she kissed her cloud of white hair. All that one could hear was the crackle of the fire, and the squeal of a door closing.