Chapter Fifty-One—"Freedom of Choice"
Ruel was not the only one with spies amongst her cousins. Word of her sister's little spat with Rumplestiltskin reached Danns within hours of the event, and she had mixed feelings on the matter. On one hand, it was always nice to see Ruel taken down a notch or two; she really was capable of the most astounding self-assuredness, even when she knew she was wrong. And yet, Danns didn't actually want her sister dead. She wanted her defeated and forced to admit it, not removed from the game. Danns wanted freedom for herself and her people, wanted the fae to return to the power they had once had. Ruel didn't need to die for that to happen, and Danns thought she would have been rather angry had the former Dark One decided to kill her sister.
Rumplestiltskin. He really was proving to be a thorn in her side. She had never imagined he'd prove so difficult when she had held him in Bremen, and this was growing ridiculous. She would have to do something about him, and soon. She had not expected him to escape the way he did…and she really had not expected him to have a True Love.
Damnation.
"Are you certain?" she asked the Indigo Fairy, her spy amongst Ruel's more rebellious followers. No one suspected Indigo, but the slight fairy had long been frustrated by Ruel's inaction. Turning her had been easy.
"I saw it with my own eyes," Indigo replied with a nod. "Blue did not know, but it was obvious that Lady Belle already did. Tinker Bell says they're to be married."
"I see." The words were a growl; was Danns not careful, her anger would summon a storm. "How long have they been together?"
Longevity mattered. True Love had to be fought for. In the early days, it was much more fragile. Rumplestiltskin could not have just found this useless chit, could he have? There had been no evidence of True Love before—Except I how he resisted you, a small voice inside her reminded the Black Fairy. True Love lent strength to even the darkest of souls. Between that and his son, even a fundamentally weak man might find courage. Damn. How could she not have seen that?
"Since before the Dark Curse, my Lady, although rumor says she was missing for—"
"I care not."
A wave of her hand shooed Indigo off as Danns stewed. She would have to kill the girl. Either that, or completely rework her plans concerning the Dark One. Even if she forced the curse back into him, Rumplestiltskin would be able to free himself. Danns would not be foolish enough to count on the safeguards inherent in her curse, not this time. If he had fallen for this Belle before the Curse to End All Curses, he had still been the Dark One then. His curse should not have allowed for True Love, but Danns knew that it could not truly prevent it. Despite all the safeguards she had put in, despite the paranoia, the hunger for power, and the sharp edges, there was no curse in any world that could actually guard against Tue Love. Had he wanted to fall in love, her curse could not have stopped him.
How did someone so different take on that curse? Fifteen hundred years of flawless transference and utter darkness indicated that the weakness did not lie within her curse. No, the problem had to be inside Rumplestiltskin himself. What made Zoso choose someone like this? He should have known better! But, obviously, Zoso had not cared. Danns grimaced. Zoso had been one of those who were controlled for so long—and so foolishly—that he yearned for death. Of course he had passed it on to someone unsuitable. Rumplestiltskin had probably been the only one available at the time.
She would have to deal with this before she could move forward with her plans.
Belle. That must have been the girl who Norco had threatened, whom Rumplestiltskin had killed for. The disparate hints Danns had uncovered suddenly made sense. Now only one question remained: kill her, or choose another path entirely?
On the fourth day of the Grand Council, the excitement of Rumplestiltskin nearly killing the Blue Fairy calmed. Discussions turned to how to best protect people from the ongoing threat of the fae, and the assembled monarchs finally seemed willing to listen to the magic users in their midst. Oh, Queen Leah muttered periodically about how people like Regina could not be trusted, but if Regina had cared what people like Leah thought, she would have gone to pieces long ago.
"Well, that was fun," Robin said to her dryly as they broke for lunch.
Regina scowled. "I think your definition of 'fun' needs some work."
"I think that you're doing very well," he replied with an innocent smile. "You haven't lost your temper at all yet."
"Barely."
"Barely counts." Robin grabbed her hands, pulling Regina towards the edge of the courtyard. "Now. How about those archery lessons I promised you?"
"Now?" Regina squeaked.
"You could use the break, I think," her lover replied. "C'mon. Shooting things always makes me feel better, even if it is just straw targets."
"I usually throw fire balls for that," she admitted. And it used to be at things more alive than straw targets. But she let Robin pull her along. How long had it been since she'd done something fun, something just because she enjoyed it? Too long. Maybe Robin was right, and shooting arrows at targets would make her feel better.
"Archery is much more elegant," he retorted.
"Oh, is it now?"
"Indeed," he grinned, leading her towards the archery butts in a smaller courtyard attached to the larger one where everyone seemed to gather when the Council went on break. "Allow me to prove it to you?"
Regina couldn't say no to that smile, and she had always wanted to learn how to shoot. Her mother had always insisted that archery was not ladylike, and it was beneath Regina's royal birth, but that hadn't stopped her curiosity. Besides, Robin was supposed to be the best archer in the whole of the Enchanted Forest…and Regina treasured every moment that she could steal with him.
So she smiled and let her lover lead her over to the archery butts, her hand still held tightly in his. Little John was waiting with two bows and matching quivers, but the large man retreated after they arrived, giving Regina a smile instead of a bow. Robin's best friend hadn't approved of her at first, but nearly a year into their relationship, John had become someone that Regina could almost consider a friend of her own. (A hairy, obnoxious friend with somewhat poor personal hygiene, but a friend all the same.) She thought that John viewed her the same way; at least he'd stopped deferring to her at all months earlier. With a rough group like the Merry Men, that was probably a sign that they'd accepted her as one of their own.
"Ready?" Robin asked, offering her a mocking bow.
"You bet I am."
Purple smoke poured out of the lamp, and the voice that spoke sounded both coerced and annoyed. "Mistress mine, my will is thine. Tell me your wishes three."
Rumplestiltskin let him say the entire spiel. Wisely, Regina had stuffed Jafar back into his lamp when the Grand Council had started getting interesting, which made the sorcerer rather disgruntled in addition to being clueless about what was going on. But there was no way that Rumplestiltskin wanted Jafar too aware of what was happening, or at least not until he knew what side the genie was going to choose.
"I'm hardly your mistress, dearie," he told the other man with a short laugh. "I'm lacking proper…parts."
Jafar whirled around, and dark eyes evaluated him rapidly.
"Rumplestiltskin." Jafar blinked. "Ah, of course. I didn't recognize you without the more flamboyant features of your curse."
"My former curse," Rumplestiltskin corrected him, and watched Jafar show no surprise at all. Damn Regina. She might have mentioned telling him that.
"So you want a genie's power now that you lack your own. Or have less, anyway," he amended, clearly feeling the magic in the air.
Rumplestiltskin could have—probably—disguised the presence his power created, but he'd not bothered to try. Doing so with someone like Jafar would always be tricky, anyway. Jafar was as bright as his reputation indicated, and twice as powerful, even without the staff he'd once turned his old mentor into. Rumplestiltskin did not intend to underestimate him, so it was time to tread carefully. And carefully manage that which he let Jafar see and not see. After all, it would not do to have Jafar underestimate him, either. Regina had already told Rumplestiltskin about the genie's bid for freedom, and Rumplestiltskin had no intention of letting Jafar make a second go at that.
"I don't want you for your power," he replied easily, sitting back in his chair and openly studying the sorcerer. They were alone in the rooms Snow had given him and Belle, and intentionally so. Rumplestiltskin didn't trust Jafar any further than he could throw him, and no matter what happened during this conversation, that wasn't going to change.
"Then what do you want?" Jafar asked warily.
"That's not the question you should be asking. The real question, dear, is what you want," Rumplestiltskin pointed out, and then gestured to the empty chair on the other side of the table he sat at. "Have a seat."
Jafar hesitated, studying Rumplestiltskin right back for a long moment. Then the tricky sorcerer slowly lowered himself into the chair, sitting back and folding his hands. His dark eyes were narrowed, but otherwise he was the very picture of calm. This was the man who had wrested Wonderland out of the hands of a queen, who had manipulated intelligent enemies into doing his bidding, and who had changed the laws of magic. Jafar was dangerous through and through, and he was used to playing games with high stakes.
But nothing like this.
"I should think that is obvious," Jafar said after a moment. "But you cannot give me what I want."
"And if I could?"
"Even as the Dark One, you didn't have the power to free a genie," Jafar pointed out.
"But I'm not the Dark One anymore."
"No, now you're just a sorcerer." Jafar smiled. "How does it feel to be normal after so long? What was it, two hundred years?"
Rumplestiltskin's smile was thin. "Three."
"Three hundred years, then. Did you know that you were a legend as the Dark One? Very few even remember that there ever was a Dark One who wasn't you. People thought you were invincible." Jafar shrugged showily, and his smile reminded Rumplestiltskin of a shark. "They probably still do, since they don't know any better. And I doubt you've disabused them of the notion."
"I'm not a fool, no." Nor was he as powerless as Jafar seemed to think, but at least Regina hadn't let that cat out of the bag.
"Still, I imagine it beats being controlled by the Black Fairy, now that she's back in the game," the other sorcerer commented. "Though I hear that you spent a bit of time with her recently. How was that little vacation?"
"Exhilarating." The little wiggle was reminiscent of the old days, but Rumplestiltskin didn't mind. Anything that kept Jafar off guard was useful—because Jafar was clearly a student of magical history and knew far more than Rumplestiltskin had expected him to. If only Regina had been such a diligent student! Rumplestiltskin had never met Jafar before, but he had known Amara. Briefly. When he'd met her she'd been desperate and furious, having had three sons just turned into genies and not wanting solutions. He'd turned her towards magic but hadn't taught her; Amara had been in no shape to learn when Rumplestiltskin had last seen her. Iron John had later stumbled upon her and made her into a first rate sorceress, and she had taught Jafar.
And he was as brilliant as his teacher, only with fewer morals to get in the way.
"I bet it was," Jafar replied, his dark eyes calculating.
"Are you done speculating, dear?" Rumplestiltskin cut in before Jafar could continue. "Because it won't get you very far, and it'll only waste my time. That, needless to say, is not something I appreciate."
Jafar shrugged again. "I'm not sure if I care what you do or do not appreciate, frankly."
That made Rumplestiltskin laugh—and wait. Fortunately, although Jafar was the patient sort, he was also the type to take every opportunity when offered, and Rumplestiltskin certainly offered him one. Smoke and mirrors. Magic was as much of a game of showing your opponent what you wanted them to see as it was about winning straight up battles, so he showed Jafar a wide opening in his defenses. It was a genuine opening—anything less would never have sucked Jafar in—but when the genie struck, Rumplestiltskin allowed the full strength of his power to answer the attack.
The power hit Jafar like an invisible, fast-moving, wall, and it slammed him across the room until he bounced off the door. Hard.
Rumplestiltskin never so much as twitched, letting his magic do the work for him as he sat back and watched Jafar struggle to his feet, shaking his head dizzily. "I had to try, you understand."
Rumplestiltskin just smiled slowly. "I may have forgotten to mention that there was an original power buried behind that curse, and breaking it may have unleashed that."
"May?" Jafar coughed, and Rumplestiltskin could see respect glinting in his eyes. Yes, the door he'd opened had been worth it; Jafar was no fool, and caught on quickly. "Can you free a genie?"
"By sheer power? Possibly." Now it was Rumplestiltskin's turn to shrug. "But more importantly, a certain guardian of the Well of Wonders owes me a favor."
"Nyx." The word came out in a growl.
"Indeed." If his smile was smug, who could blame Rumplestiltskin? He'd known that helping Nyx against that fire demon a century earlier would prove useful, although the details had been fuzzy at the time.
"Would you?" Jafar demanded.
"That depends upon you. I have certain…things I want out of you. If you fail to deliver, back in the lamp you go." The genie started to answer, but Rumplestiltskin held up a hand. "And before you start thinking about double crossing me, consider two things: one, I am certainly not going to free you until you've done your part; and two, I can See the future."
"And what do I have to do to earn my freedom?" Perhaps the genie laid the irony on a little too thick, and Rumplestiltskin could hear the bitterness making his tone thick. But he didn't really care how Jafar felt. He only wanted Jafar to join their fight against the Black Fairy.
Would he ever trust him? No. But Rumplestiltskin always kept his deals.
"I'll make a deal with you," he answered. "You join our fight against the Black Fairy—and the Blue Fairy, if she continues to prove difficult—and I'll put your lamp where no one will be able to find it. After our little war is over, I'll have Nyx free you."
"How about you free me and then I'll help you?" Jafar countered.
"Not a chance, dearie. Now. You take my deal, or you go back in the lamp and we fight this war without you. No exclusions, no changes, and certainly no second chances if you betray me."
Jafar scowled. "I heard you almost killed the Blue Fairy a few days ago."
"Regina talks too much."
That earned him a shrug. "You can hear through the lamp."
Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Take the deal or don't, dear. I have politicians to intimidate."
"I'll have my freedom in the meantime?" Jafar asked cautiously; Rumplestiltskin could see him thinking it over, looking for a loophole. "And you'll keep the lamp safe without using wishes?"
There were several loopholes, of course, but if Jafar wanted to exploit them, he'd have to risk losing that which he wanted more than anything else. Rumplestiltskin didn't think he was that stupid; why trade a certainty of freedom for a possibility of power? Having been trapped himself, although hardly in the way Jafar was currently experiencing, Rumplestiltskin knew what his answer would be. After all, the deal he'd proposed absolutely did not govern Jafar after he was released from the lamp. No sorcerer would commit themselves to another for their lifetime, and Rumplestiltskin didn't want to deal with him for that long, anyway. Managing him in the meantime was going to be annoying enough.
"That you will," he answered. "And I don't want your wishes. That you can count on."
"Fine." At least Jafar was quick about it; once he made a decision, the man nodded briskly. "You have a deal. My assistance in exchange for my freedom."
"Excellent." A wave of his hand vanished the lamp, and Jafar jumped. It probably tickled, having his lamp sent halfway across the Enchanted Forest and into Rumplestiltskin's vault, but he didn't really care. He'd added another ally to their list, and more importantly, denied Danns one she would have been very interested in. "Now run along, dear. I'm not your babysitter."
That was freedom he was offering, and Jafar didn't have to be told twice; the sorcerer turned genie vacated the room in a hurry.
Emma was really coming to hate politics. Not that she'd ever even thought she'd like them, but the idiocy of the average politician was really starting to astound her. She supposed that it had something to do with the fact that none of these people had been elected to their positions—it come as something of a shock to realize that she now lived in a land where most people had no voice at all in how they were governed. Somehow, that fact hadn't really sunk in before now, and everything Neal had ever mentioned about how things were different here in the Enchanted Forest was really starting to make sense. There really was no one to check these monarchs (after all, Regina had been able to be the Evil Queen for how many years, slaughtering people at her leisure) except themselves. But there was no punishment for ignoring their saner fellows, and peer pressure didn't always work.
Queen Leah was still mumbling about locking up all magical users from time to time, but she at least had the good sense to not do it around Rumplestiltskin or Regina. She didn't seem to have caught on about shutting her mouth around Emma yet, but most of them seemed to look at Emma as something of an abnormality. Despite dozens of etiquette lessons, Emma had no chance of displaying her mother's effortless grace and innate knowledge of protocol, which meant she was forever using the wrong fork or committing some equally heinous crime. Then she'd gone and (shotgun) married someone that none of the royals thought suitable. Except her parents. They were delighted by the fact that Emma had decided to just end this already and marry the man she'd fallen in love with at seventeen, but their unbridled joy was almost as annoying as the derision from their counterparts. Not that Emma cared what the other royals thought about her and Neal. Henry was happy, Neal was happy, and Emma was trying to remind herself that it was okay to be happy. Things on that front were looking up.
But not on the political front. Truthfully, she was starting to worry if things were ever going to look up on the political front. That seemed to be the nature of politics, though, no matter what world you were in.
Emma bit back he scowl and pasted on something like a smile. It was a crummy smile, but she could fake being politely interested if she had to. (And she did.) The discussion was still raging onwards about what to do about this new war that was brewing, how to contain the fae and if the fairies would do their part. Blue had left shortly after Rumplestiltskin almost killed her, which meant Tink was now speaking for the fairies, but that didn't mean Blue would actually do anything that Tink committed them to. Which meant they were probably on their own against the fae. Because if anyone would dare break a deal with Rumplestiltskin, it would be Blue, Emma thought grouchily. She really was sick of this game.
"I just received news of a pair of demons terrorizing the countryside," King Hubert spoke up, for once appearing as something other than Leah's ventriloquist's dummy. At least Leah looked surprised to hear that, anyway.
"What type of demons?" Tink asked immediately, her head snapping around to look at Philip's father.
"They appear to be made of shadows," Hubert replied after looking at the note someone had handed him. Then he grimaced. "And they appear to also be periodically doing battle with one another."
Emma bit back a groan. Her history of magic was rusty, but she had read up on elemental demons after her encounter with the fire demon that had almost burned David to death. Tink, however, had even more experience with an entirely different demonic shadow, and did not so restrain herself.
"Shadow demons," the green fairy repeated, her voice flat.
"Are there different kinds?" Leah demanded, as hostile as ever.
"Yes, actually," Regina cut in, rolling her eyes. "Some demons fit in the palm of your hand and live underneath window ledges. Others are half the size of your castle and live in underground caves. And there's an entire range of demons between those two extremes. So why don't you let the experts figure out what this is without your oh-so-educated interruptions?"
Well. Regina certainly wasn't trying to make friends today. Emma half-wondered if Robin had kicked her out of the wrong side of the bed that morning, or if she was just having an off day. Either that, or Leah had just gotten on her last nerve, a feeling that Emma certainly could sympathize with. Queen Leah was a poster child for someone who really could have benefited from some time in Storybrooke. Perhaps living as a 'commoner' would have taught her not to value her own opinion so highly.
Leah glared. Regina just looked at her, daring the other queen to say something. Emma, however, was not about to let this conversation go any further downhill than it had already, and spoke up:
"Look, what's important is stopping the demons, right? We can probably do something about that." She threw Regina a hard look. "Can't we?"
"Obviously." Regina rolled her eyes, but if there was anything the Evil Queen was good at, it was holding a grudge, so Emma paid her no mind.
Instead, she looked at Hubert, devoutly wishing that Philip was in his idiot father's place. At least he'd demonstrated some common sense. "So," she said pointedly. "Why don't you tell us where these demons were last seen, and we'll send someone to deal with them."
Emma had a feeling that someone would be her, of course, but maybe she could con Regina into coming along for the ride. Or perhaps she could dump this one on Rumplestiltskin. He could probably kill both demons on his own, not that her father-in-law would ever volunteer for that kind of job. Her father-in-law. Damn. That still took some getting used to.
"I could have gone along," his son said as Rumplestiltskin sat back in his chair, Regina's outraged objections still ringing in his ears. She'd been miffed to be sent off after the demons, although Rumplestiltskin couldn't tell if she was angrier over being dispatched to kill demons or having to do it with Emma Swan. Bae, however, was obviously unhappy for other reasons. "I don't need magic to help. Robin went."
Not smiling took all of Rumplestiltskin's self-control; he was reminded of a hundred such conversations when Bae was younger, when his son wanted to do this thing or that thing and wasn't quite whining about it. Still, Bae was a newlywed, even if his and Emma's wedding had been a rather short-notice affair. That, however, meant that Bae intensely disliked the idea of being parted from his wife, even if Emma was heading into danger. To be fair, Bae had been there the last time that Emma had gone head to head with an elemental demon, and he'd been the one who actually took the creature down with squid ink-tipped crossbow bolts. Rumplestiltskin still had that demon in storage; he was just waiting for the right moment to sic it on someone, probably one original power of a fairy or another. But they both knew that Bae wasn't needed this time, not with Regina going along and Emma far better prepared to face off with a demon. So, Rumplestiltskin addressed the real issue, instead.
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, son. Magic isn't something you can learn halfway."
Baelfire grimaced. "What, and be the only person in my family not using it? If what you say about magic passing through exposure as well as by blood is true, Henry's bound to end up with it, isn't he? I mean, he's already asking, but it's going to be unavoidable, isn't it?"
"It already is," Rumplestiltskin confirmed.
"What?"
"Relax," he reassured his son. "I told you before that thirteen is far too young to learn. It'll stay that way until and unless his magic comes out on its own, and so far it has not."
"How old is old enough?" Bae asked, looking both relieved and wary. His brown eyes were still a little wide, and despite what he said, Rumplestiltskin knew that his boy was still not entirely comfortable with magic in general. Too many horrors had visited Bae on the heels of power, and he was still trying to get used to the idea of magic as a part of his life.
"After puberty," Rumplestiltskin replied without hesitation, just as he had last time. "Magic is emotion, and even the most stable teenager lives in an emotional whirlwind from time to time. He needs to be done with that before we can trust his emotions, and therefore his magic, to be under his control."
"Is that what happened with you in the beginning?"
"Are you afraid, son?" he had asked his beloved boy with blood on his hands, fury and strength and power racing through his bones. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Rumplestiltskin could indulge every whim and every desire, could hold nothing back. "I'm not afraid of anything." Shaking himself free of the memories, Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath and focused on the present, pulling his mind away from thoughts of a demon sharing his soul, of having no limits and no reason to stop himself. He was no longer the Dark One. He no longer had to battle with himself simply to feel love.
"Yes and no," Rumplestiltskin answered more honestly than he would have even a few months earlier. But the longer he was without his curse, the easier the truth came. That was not to say that he was honest by nature—or would ever be—but he could at least tell his son the truth that Baelfire deserved to hear. "I didn't know anything about magic in the beginning. Had I known that I had to control my emotions to rein it in, I still might not have been able to, but it might not have been so…bad."
"So I'm not going to wind up like…that?" Bae asked hesitantly.
"Certainly not. That was the curse, Bae, more than anything else. Do you know that little voice in your head that sometimes encourages you to do the worst you can do?"
"Yeah."
"Imagine that voice too loud to ignore. Imagine that it has a personality and a life of its own, and it's got its claws into your soul. You can't tune it out, and it demands blood and darkness in all that you do," he said softly, relishing the silence in his mind and the stillness in his soul. At least now his sins were his own. "Imagine that…and you'll still not understand it. At least I pray you never will."
A moment of heavy silence passed between them.
"Gee, Pop, you're really the optimist today," his son finally replied with a crooked smile. "All you had to do is say that using magic wouldn't drag me unknowingly down that road."
"Ah. Well, I've always had a flair for the dramatic," Rumplestiltskin said with a shrug, and then reached out to lay a hand Baelfire's shoulder. "I won't let you go down that road, Bae. I promise."
"Thanks," was the whispered response.
"Not that I think you're terribly inclined, mind. You've always been a better man than I." And he was more proud of Bae than words could express, even though he'd long been a master wordsmith. Rumplestiltskin hoped that his own smile communicated that; even if he'd been a terrible father more often than not.
Surprisingly, Bae reached up to place his hand on top of the one his father had put on his shoulder. "You've always been a good man, Papa. It just took me a long time to realize that it was buried, not gone."
He had to swallow before he could reply at all.
"Thank you, Bae."
The world really was a crooked place. His son had married the Savior, they had a wonderful (if precocious) son of their own, and somehow Rumplestiltskin had earned forgiveness. He still wasn't sure how he'd managed that, and yet here he was. Teaching his son magic.
"Anytime, Papa. Now, how about that first lesson?"
"Of course."
The messenger missed Regina by less than an hour, and found himself wandering aimlessly around a strange castle. His teacher had told him to speak to no one but the Evil Queen, but what happened when the Evil Queen was nowhere to be found? No one knew when she would return or even where she had gone; the porter he had questioned had seemed to think he was mad for asking after her. But he couldn't go back; he needed her protection from those who were bound to be chasing him. So what could he do?
"Are you looking for my mom?" a young voice asked, and the messenger turned to look at a boy who was probably only a few years younger than he was.
"I don't—I don't know," he answered honestly. Talk to no one but Queen Regina, he had been told, but how was he supposed to do that when she wasn't here?
"The porter said that you were looking for Queen Regina," the brown-haired teen clarified. "She's my mom. Or one of them, anyway."
"How can someone have two mothers?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"Regina adopted me. Then I found my real mom, too. It's a long story," was the cheerful response. "I'm Henry."
He shouldn't have accepted the offered hand, but the smile was friendly, and Henry really wasn't much younger than he was. He didn't know how long he'd spent trapped in the lands of the fae, only that his ticket to freedom lay in finding Queen Regina and relaying his message. But Henry was her son, and perhaps that meant Henry would help him. Someone had to help him.
"I'm Aladdin," he answered after a moment's thought.
Henry smiled. "Really? That's so cool. I've heard of you!"
"What?" He jumped. No one was supposed to know his name. Maleficent said he would be safe so long as he remained anonymous. But if people knew, then the fae could find out, and then… Oh, no.
"Sorry. Um. You were…well, it's really hard to explain what a movie is if you've never seen one. I take it you weren't in Storybrooke?"
"Where's that?"
"A long way away. A whole 'nother world, really," Henry replied. "Don't worry about it. What did you need my mom for?"
"I have a message for her," he replied, glad to shift the conversation away from the confusing topic of a place he'd never heard of. "And only her."
"Sure," Henry replied easily. "But I don't know when she'll be back."
"Oh."
"You want to come up to my rooms and wait? No one will bother you there."
How had Henry guessed that he was worried about that? Aladdin reminded himself to stop looking over his shoulder as if he expected one of the fae to pop out and capture him. Again. But it was hard. Everyone he knew had been captured by the fae, and most of them were dead already, or worse. Maleficent had saved him, had taught him a little magic, but she'd sent him here to her friend Regina and told him that Regina would help him more.
He had to find Regina.
But for now, Aladdin just nodded and followed Henry up to his rooms, not knowing what else to do other than wait.
A/N:So…the plot is thickening and we're approaching the final battle. What do you think Aladdin's message is, and do you think that the Black Fairy will try to kill Belle?
Stay tuned for Chapter Fifty-Two: "Tempered and Tested", where Regina returns, an unexpected visitor arrives, and someone faces the consequences of their choices. In the meantime, please tell me what you think!