A/N: Thanks as always to my most excellent beta! :)
"Cora," a voice called, causing the royal known as the Queen of Hearts to look up from where she sat. Her posture was pristine despite being captivated by her work, and although she shifted her gaze to the newcomer, Cora did not rise. Instead she stared for a moment, watching him from her seat at the desk in the room she'd commandeered as her own. Finally, she sent a calculated smile toward the leather-clad companion with whom she'd formed a tentative alliance many years prior.
"My dear pirate," she said. "I trust your rest was a pleasant one?"
"I'd never known eighteen years could fly by so effortlessly," Hook replied. "But to the point - we've lost nearly two decades and I'm anxious to resume the task at hand. What, precisely, needs to occur so that I can skin my crocodile?"
"Still not one to waste any time, I see." Cora continued speaking as she stood and advanced towards where he waited in the doorway. "The plan remains as it was - you help me to win my daughter's love once again and I will help you to kill Rumpelstiltskin."
The pirate's brow furrowed. "Is it truly necessary to further postpone his demise? I've waited long enough already!"
Cora shrugged in response, her expression devoid of sympathy. "You're welcome to set off on your own, but I think you'll find your quest rather fruitless without something to counteract his magic, hmm?"
Hook let out his displeasure in a huff, but his lack of argument let on that he conceded her point. "Can you at least tell me, then, why is it that we had to wait eighteen years for the execution of this plan? The last thing I recall is that you told me there would be a delay - we appeared here in your daughter's castle and shortly after that, everything went black."
"Because, dear pirate, I needed my daughter to need me. I expected that to happen once her curse broke. Instead it failed to be cast - and she's now spent eighteen years in captivity. After all of that time, I'm certain she will be desperate to exact her vengeance on Snow White - desperate to see her lose something that is precious to her."
Cora sized up her reluctant accomplice before continuing. "Many years ago, Rumplestiltskin cast a spell that prevents Regina from killing Snow or her precious Prince in this land. That same spell covered their daughter, but only until she reached adulthood. Now that she has come of age, killing her should be child's play. And if I can assist in that endeavor, help her to cause Snow pain as Snow has caused her, then surely my daughter will love me once more."
"A cunning plan, to be sure. How do you plan to kill this princess?"
A slow smile spread across the royal's face, her regal exterior hiding her thinly veiled sinister motivations. "I want to allow Regina to crush her heart. Surely she'll want to be there to see the look on Snow's face as she watches the life drain from her precious daughter."
"And where is my part in all of this?" he asked, skepticism not laid entirely to rest. "Why do you feel it imperative to keep me around?"
"You serve as the backup plan, my dear. Should the royals be clued in to my intentions, you would remain as an entity unknown to them - and that I can use to my advantage."
Hook nodded slowly, turning the plan over in his mind. "And once you've relished your victory..."
"I will help you to skin your croc," she replied, grace lining her voice - as if this promise should be looked upon as an enormous gift.
A broad grin overtook his face as the anticipation of his desired goal eclipsed the trials that would be necessary to achieve it. "Excellent," he replied, turning to leave. Two steps into his departure, he turned back to face her, a thought occurring to him. "Is your daughter not kept prisoner in the cell that they created to hold the Dark One?"
Cora laughed, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand. "Oh, don't worry your pretty little face over that. The magic woven into that cell might hold her for now, but it's no match for what I have in store. In the end, it wasn't strong enough to hold Rumplestiltskin. Once I'm finished with it, it won't be strong enough to hold Regina, either."
Bae entered the cottage, fresh off of a walk to take in the crisp autumn afternoon. He found that the sound of the door opening had caused Emma to look up from her reading, and as he slid off his boots, she continued her quiet observation. Taking advantage of her attention, he broached the subject at hand. "I ran into my father while I was out."
"Mmhm?"
"He asked us to dinner."
"Please give him my regrets when you join him," Emma replied primly, her effort to be polite doing little to mitigate the coldness in her statement.
He let out a heavy sigh, weary of the argument that was sure to ensue before it had even begun. "Unfortunately it is not a request."
"What will happen if we choose not to attend?" she asked, eyes narrowing as she sat forward in her chair, looking for a challenge.
Bae closed his eyes, rubbing a finger across the bridge of his nose as he attempted to conjure up the fortitude necessary to keep the conversation on an even keel. "Do you really want to find out?" he asked, watching his bride's eyes light up in response - as if she was going to affirm that notion. Jumping to speak again before she could do so, he continued. "Trust me - you don't. It's not worth it. He's only asking for a single dinner, and while of course the conversation will be grating, the food is at least sure to be excellent." She arched an eyebrow in disbelief and he rushed to conclude his argument, offering the only thing that he thought might suffice as motivation for her. "Furthermore, he'll be much more likely to loosen the reigns if he perceives us as cooperative."
"I do not want to be one of your father's pawns," Emma protested, folding her arms across her chest as she lifted her chin in the air.
"But you already are, Princess," Bae snapped, temper gaining a small victory over patience as he wondered if perhaps she was protesting merely for the sake of being argumentative. "Or have you forgotten that you are living miles from your home, married to someone you barely know?"
"I could never forget such a vile circumstance."
"Then surely a dinner with the Dark One pales in comparison." Her lack of retort - aside from a glare - indicated to him that he had won the battle, though undoubtedly not the war. "We depart in a quarter hour."
The stroll to the castle would have been a pleasant one, had the company been more pleasurable - or even capable of speaking in civil terms. As it happened, the beautiful fall day was ignored in favor of tense silence as the duo walked at a clipped pace, anxious to shorten their evening as much as possible. Arriving at the castle door, they watched as it swung inward of its own accord, leaving Emma to wonder whether such an opening was routine - or if it indicated that Rumplestiltskin had kept a close eye out for their arrival.
Bae walked in confidently, having called the Dark Castle his home - albeit grudgingly - until a few days prior. Emma, on the other hand, held her head high but lagged a bit behind him, the castle's foreboding presence providing an ever-so-slight rattle to her nerves. She found herself walking millimeters closer to Bae, his presence the lesser of the frightening circumstances surrounding her, though she would have denied it vehemently if asked.
They entered the great hall to find Rumplestiltskin reclining in his chair at the head of the long table that sat centered in the room. "Well there are the lovebirds," he greeted them, patronizingly tapping his steepled fingers together. The duo in question responded with twin glares as he continued talking. "Have a seat, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chairs on either side of the table. "Dinner will be out momentarily."
Wordlessly, Emma and Bae found their seats, their silence persisting as they waited for their food. "Are you finding your accommodations acceptable?" he asked, making an attempt to draw them into conversation.
"Not in the least," Emma replied crossly.
"Well whyever not?" Rumplestiltskin demanded, clearly annoyed by her less-than-positive response. "I've provided you with the finest things available on this side of the kingdom, so what could possibly be the problem?"
Emma snorted and shot him a look of disdain. "There is a significant lack of sleeping space in the cottage."
"Oh, that," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Well, you are married."
"Not that married!" she shot back. "He's still a stranger to me."
Rumplestiltskin moved his gaze to the other side of the table. "Bae, have you nothing to say for yourself?" Bae met his gaze silently, refusing to acknowledge the question with a response, so his father continued on. "Baelfire, you shall not let this girl trod all over you."
"I was raised to behave respectfully towards women," he replied carefully. "Or has it been so long that you've forgotten, Papa?"
At this, Rumplestiltskin's temper flared, backed into a corner by his son. "Of course not," he snapped. "I was not implying that you disrespect her."
"No? Then how else would you have me exert my rightful place as her husband, when it's a role I've been placed in under duress? She's right - I'm a stranger to her. I shall not require a young woman to share her bed with a complete stranger."
"Yes, yes," he conceded with a hand wave, and Bae thought that perhaps he'd made his point as the conversation lapsed into a lull. Moments later, however, his father continued, pressing the point once again. "But you're her husband."
Bae's brow furrowed, his frustration with the conversation causing his tone to turn stern. "In name only, Papa," he said, his fingertips tapping the table for emphasis as he stressed each word. "You may have been able to force us to wed, but what happens within that marriage is strictly up to us. Is that understood?" Bae held his father's gaze unblinkingly, almost as if he was afraid to breathe while he waited to see if the stalemate would be broken.
Rumplestiltskin made a noise to protest before realizing he that he'd been bested by his son and allowing it to putter out, the retort fading on his lips. This plan to win his son's gratitude - and heart - was verging further and further off course and arguing with Bae would not gain him any ground.
Luckily for the trio, the silent glares that they lapsed back into were interrupted by a maid entering with the supper cart.
"Roast lamb with spiced apples, m'lord," Clara said with a curtsey as she placed a dish at each setting, removing the covers as she went. Emma and Bae each thanked her politely and she promptly retreated to the safety of the kitchen.
Bae took immediately to the task of eating his dinner, but when he looked up he found his bride gingerly sorting through the meal with her fork. She'd formed a neat pile of apple slices off to one side of the plate, cautiously picking through the remainder of the dish as if to ensure that she hadn't missed any.
"Are you accustomed to rejecting portions of your meal, Princess?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he attempted to discern precisely what she was doing.
"Hardly," she replied offhandedly, providing no further explanation as she continued the examination of her dish.
"I see. Then you must feel the fruit is of inferior quality?"
"Not at all," she replied, pausing in her task to challenge his gaze. "We do not eat apples in my household."
He raised an eyebrow. "Your entire household selectively refuses a fruit?"
"My family has a poor history with it."
Bae narrowly refrained from rolling his eyes as he responded. "In my family, we were raised to be grateful for the food provided to us. Some of us have not been so fortunate as to always live in the lap of luxury."
"Refusal to eat one particular food does not equal ingratitude!" she exclaimed, dropping her fork and pitching forward in her chair as the threadbare binds that restrained her temper began to fray.
"Enough!" Rumplestiltskin roared, interrupting their squabble. "I shall have none of this at my dinner table! Eat your dinners or let yourselves starve, I don't really care - but quit this endless bickering!"
Both of the young people glared at him but did as he requested and resumed eating their meals in silence. The minutes ticked past uncomfortably until all three had finished eating and Clara reappeared from the kitchen to collect their dishes.
She replaced their dinner plates with dessert ones, each filled with a heaping spoonful of peach cobbler. "Thank you, dear Clara," Emma said as the plate was placed in front of her, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed the expression on Rumplestiltskin's face go sour.
"Why is it," he snapped as soon as Clara had left the hall, "that you can be kind to the help, yet insist upon being nasty to those you should now consider family?"
"Family?" Emma asked incredulously. "Hardly! Dear Clara has done nothing but show kindness to us this evening. Meanwhile you claim to be family but keep your son and I trapped as prisoners. Perhaps if you showed us the same hospitality your 'help' has offered, I would exhibit the same kindness towards you."
The elder man's temper began to flare. "I have done nothing but show you hospitality! You've been given your own home -"
"-and been kept a prisoner in it," Emma interjected.
"I told you no such thing!" he snapped in response.
"You didn't need to," she replied pointedly. "Your son has informed me that surely you have placed spells around the property to prevent escape."
He chuckled, amused by Bae's assumption. "And did he tell you why such spells might be necessary?"
A put-out expression accompanied Emma's reply. "Surely if you feel we are mature enough to marry we must be mature enough to govern our own travels!"
Rumplestiltskin stared at her a moment, once again tapping his long fingers together as he considered how to best diffuse the situation. "All right," he began, "I can offer you this. You may have free reign to travel as you wish, so long as you return to your husband by nightfall."
She eyed him skeptically, sparing a quick look towards the young man seated across the table from her. "And Baelfire may leave as well?"
Rumplestiltskin sighed. "Bae may leave the grounds, but he must be accompanied by either you or myself."
"Papa-" he began to protest, but Rumplestiltskin lifted a finger to silence him.
"Ah ah, Bae, those are the terms. Now, will you accept them, or shall we return to the confines of the grounds?"
He looked back across the table at Emma, catching her eye. Their conversation was wordless, but for the first time civil, and a small nod constituted agreement. Bae turned back to his father and replied, "Yes, Papa. We will accept them."
Dinner at the Charmings' was a far more somber affair. In an effort to retain some sense of normalcy, the day had been much like any other Monday; evaluations of the needs of the kingdom, overseeing the staff, setting the schedule for the week. But evenings were typically when the small family reconvened, and so it was at dinnertime that the full weight of Emma's absence was finally felt. Her parents were accustomed to being regaled with tales of her various adventures and scrapes - because with Emma, there were always scrapes - and the absence of her chatter made for a deafening silence.
They sat at the small table in the nook off of the kitchen, wordless except to thank their cook as she brought in a tureen of soup. Charming captured some noodles and broth with the ladle, scooping them into a bowl and passing them to Snow, seated at his right. She began to swirl the liquid with her spoon as he repeated the process for himself, finding herself absentmindedly stirring while her thoughts overwhelmed her, bogged down by the weight of the silence.
"Do you think she's doing all right?" she finally asked, eyes flickering up from her bowl to rest on her husband.
His response was the tiniest rise and fall of his shoulders, likely imperceivable to anyone who hadn't spent the last two decades married to him. "Impossible to know."
"We should have prepared her better," Snow said, shoulders slumping in defeat. "We should have let her know what to expect."
"No, we should never have agreed to this in the first place," he replied, frustration bubbling to the surface. "We never should have allowed her to be put into this position. Our job as her parents was to protect her, and we failed."
"Charming," his wife replied gently, covering his hand with hers, "There was no good choice. You know that - you know our options were impossible."
"We should have found another way!" he exclaimed, voice rising to a shout as he lost control of his emotions and slammed a hand down on the table, causing Snow to jump. "You of all people know that," he continued, looking to her eyes as his voice dropped to a normal volume. "There is always another way, and we didn't take the time to find it. We allowed ourselves to be deluded into thinking that this wouldn't come to pass, and it's Emma who paid the price. We failed her, Snow," he finished, his voice finally breaking with emotion. "We've failed her, and I don't know how to help her now."
The remainder of Emma & Bae's dinner passed in relative peace, and the walk back from the castle was incrementally more pleasant than their outbound stroll had been. Shortly before they arrived back at the cottage, Bae broke the silence as he posed a question. "Princess Emma... may I ask you something?"
Shooting him a sidelong glance, her response was far less polite than his request. "I've no doubt that you'll ask regardless of whether I give my permission."
Bae sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her continued impertinence. "If that were true, would I have requested permission first?"
She grumbled before responding, conceding his point with her lack of argument. "What is it that you'd like to know?"
He paused in his steps to turn towards her, tilting his head as he carefully studied her. "Why did you advocate for me back there?"
"At dinner?" she replied, puzzled.
"Yes," he confirmed, nodding. "With my father."
"Did I?" she asked, squinting as she ran back through her memories of the meal and tried to recall what he was referring to.
He looked at the ground, suddenly fascinated by the spot he'd begun to scuff into the dirt with the toe of his boot while he waited for her memory to kick in. Feeling self-conscious that he'd called attention to an incident she didn't even remember, he refined his question. "Perhaps advocate is too strong a word. You'd secured freedom of movement for yourself - and yet you pressed to include me as well."
She shrugged dismissively. "I felt that presenting a united front was important. He's more likely to agree to what we ask for if it's you and I working as a team than he is if we both come at him separately. I may not have been the most attentive student to my lessons, but I did at least pick up that key piece of negotiating."
Bae let out a mirthless laugh, finding himself slightly deflated by her response. "Ah, so indeed it was not altruistic."
"Nor was it unfeeling," she replied, sending him the slightest of smiles. "This is a punishment we share jointly. How heartless would it be to barter for my freedom alone? Besides, you told me last night that you're as much of a pawn in this as I am." She began to walk again, considering for a moment as her curiosity got the best of her. "What did he threaten you with, anyways?"
"The death of your parents."
Emma's eyes grew wide as she took a moment to digest this information before responding with a most unladylike snort. "I see. You expect me to believe that you were 'forced' to marry me under duress of your father killing two people you don't even know."
Bae drew back, surprised at her callous attitude. "Listen Princess, I don't know how it works up in your castle, but down here on the ground I find value in not having innocent people murdered."
"So you agreed to marry me." Her statement remained accusatory, angry, yet there was something in her tone that told him that her disbelief was starting to wither, and so he pressed on.
"Those were the options I was given." He shrugged, stepping forward to open the door as they reached the threshold of the cottage before gesturing for her to enter. "If I didn't, the deal would be broken and he would kill them."
"He wouldn't have relented if you'd asked him to?" she asked, stepping through the doorway and turning back to face him once he'd shut the door.
Bae pushed out an exasperated breath, growing weary of the princess' distrust. "My papa's curse turned him into a monster. The years seem to have tamed him, but I've seen him do worse to people for far lesser transgressions - even over my objections."
"Worse than death?"
"In a manner of speaking. He turned a man into a snail because I chased a ball in front of his cart and skinned my knee."
"Goodness," she replied, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and settling herself onto it sideways even as she remained drawn into his story.
"And then I watched as that monster crushed the snail beneath his boot."
"But... the injury was due to your recklessness, not his!"
"Precisely my point," he said in agreement, tugging his boots off and tossing them into the corner before finding his own seat across from her. "All of that for a skinned knee - so what fate might befall your parents with a broken deal of this magnitude?"
She found herself without a rebuttal to this, and after a few moments finally responded by telling him, "I'm impressed that you'd be willing to sacrifice your own happiness in order to save someone else."
Unfortunately, her habit of sarcasm had conditioned him to assume the worst, causing him to interpret her words as an insult and fire back. "I'm sorry that you think so low of me."
"What?" she replied. "I complimented you! You did a brave and selfless thing to save my parents, and for that I will be eternally grateful."
Bae narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if he was being mocked before allowing her the benefit of the doubt. "It was the honorable thing to do," he replied genuinely. "And I'm deeply sorry that your family was drawn into this twisted game."
"It's not your fault," she replied, surprising him. "If you're a pawn in this as much as me... the best we can hope to do is navigate it together."
"It would be nice to have a comrade in arms," he replied with a small nod. "When my father told me that he'd be marrying me off, I had no delusions that it would be idyllic... though I did hope there was a chance that I'd find a friend." The duo stared at each other for a moment, each contemplating their apparent truce, before Bae continued with a sigh. "I don't know why he thought forcing me into a marriage would win my affections. Particularly given what happened with his own."
"And what, pray tell, might that be?" Emma asked, slinging an arm over the back of the chair as she made herself comfortable, preparing for his story with interest.
Bae chuckled, a wry, sardonic sort of chuckle. "In short? My mother ran off with a pirate."
A short, sharp laugh was Emma's response, amusement lighting up her eyes. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh but... goodness!" She shook her head, then, looking down to study the table as some unspoken thought crossed her mind. Bae could see the corner of her mouth twitch up in the slightest of smiles before she finally met his gaze, carefully watching him - as if measuring his response - when she continued. "Well, Baelfire, there's not a lot I can promise you about this union - but at the barest of minimums, you have my word that I won't run off with a pirate."
He chuckled again, authentically this time, before replying. "Well then... at least we'll have that." He spent a few minutes sketching out the barest of details about his parents' union, telling Emma that he knew it had been an arranged marriage, but that - according to his father - in the early years it was not unhappy. The little Bae remembered, on the other hand, was the very definition of unhappy, and by the time the pirate came along it shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone that his mother was more than happy to abandon her home life in search of adventure. "Of course, it was years before I found out what had truly happened," he finished, his vague words accompanied by a shake of his head. "At the time, I was told she'd been killed."
"Hm," Emma replied noncommittally, leaving Bae to wonder what thoughts were running through her mind. "Forcing us into the same situation does sound a peculiar choice, given all of that."
"Well, my father's a peculiar man," he replied, and it was Emma's turn to chuckle at the truth of the statement.
A moment passed before she let out a yawn. "I should probably head to bed," she said, eyes darting toward the makeshift pile of blankets Bae had cobbled together the previous evening as she rose from her seat at the table. "Sorry about the settee," she continued, regret evident in her voice. "It's just..."
"It wouldn't be right," he said, nodding in understanding. "Good night, Princess," he said, watching her as she retreated into the bedchamber.
"Night," she replied, sliding the door shut behind her.
And as Bae tucked himself into the down-filled cocoon he'd amassed, a buffer from the cushions and wooden scrollwork that hit him in all of the wrong places, he felt the first glimmer of hope he'd experienced in a very long time. The marriage wouldn't be idyllic, no - but perhaps there was hope for a friendship yet.