Chapter Eight: Lost
Author's Note: Thank you for all those lovely reviews! I'll try to keep doing you all proud ;-)
In the weeks that followed, Rumplestiltskin was busied by a few people—he'd make a few deals and people would back out so he would have to make them pay, normally by hurting them, or worse. One day, a man had accidentally ('accidentally' being the key word here) hurt Baelfire while on the move down the road and, sure, Rumplestiltskin had listened to Baelfire's protests, he simply turned the man into a snail and squished him. He had hurt Baelfire, and he had to protect his son.
It was the beginning of many bad days for Baelfire, who had only insisted that they be together like before...well, with Jennifer included. He'd asked Rumplestiltskin to give up his power, to find a cure so they could be together as they had been before magic. He and Rumplestiltskin made the deal, saying if Baelfire could in fact find a way to get rid of his father's power without hurting him, Baelfire, or Jennifer, then Rumplestiltskin would do it. The deal was struck.
In the last several days, Rumplestiltskin had hired a maid by the name of Onora. She had light blonde hair, a gentle timid face, and when she was hired to work for the Dark One, she had been nervous, scared even. When she realized that in the cellar below nested a vampire—who turned out to be the Dark One's love—well, Onora was scared shitless. What kept her coming into the cottage to clean and leaving with her nerves still intact was Baelfire's pleasant existence; the maid would talk to Baelfire a lot about simple things. She had no children herself, having been born to a family who weren't well off and having no intentions of a love interest, Onora was pretty damn lonely. So working for the Dark One didn't seem so bad when she had the little boy to keep her company. In the day, she would clean, make dinner, or fetch straw so Rumplestiltskin could do what he liked to do: spin straw into gold.
The first time Onora had seen this, she had been shocked out of her girdle; he paid her with the strings of gold. And after a time, she was given extra duties, more things to busy her time and she would leave at the end of the day, when the sun was setting. All the days she worked, she'd left before the sun would set—Baelfire had told her that around that time is when Jennifer would awaken and would crawl out of the cellar, refreshed and refined.
It was that time of evening.
Jennifer woke up, all right. But 'refined' was not the correct word for how she appeared. When she came out of the cellar doors, she looked exceptionally tired. Jennifer was a beautiful woman, regardless if she looked unkempt—a woman of immeasurable beauty (and vampire genes) always appeared beautiful when a normal woman with the same amount of energy (or really, lack of) would have looked despicable.
Over the few days, Rumplestiltskin had fashioned her better dresses that made her form look even more appealing, a little too desirable, since some of the men in the village who'd looked on her with little interest (for they also knew what she was) were sometimes caught ogling her. Jennifer paid no attention to them, although Rumplestiltskin caught their glances. If she did see it, it would bother her greatly, it was only an annoyance.
Now, as she walked out of the cellar and turned to head to the cottage, the men looked at her with dopey grins.
"What...the fuck..." she growled, "are you looking at?"
They sensed her deadly tone and they immediately scrambled into their cottages, dodging her. Jennifer frowned at them, rolling her eyes.
So her mood wasn't the best. She had plenty of good days—she could take a bad one. Jennifer rubbed her temples as she walked into the cottage; Baelfire glanced at her curiously when she didn't say 'good evening' as she always did in her sweet voice, and became wary when she sat at the table, continuing to rub her temples as though she was having an extremely bad headache. Seeing her pained expression, Baelfire stood to his feet and fetched her a cup of tea, placing in front of her.
"That might help," Baelfire offered sweetly.
She said nothing back.
"Jennifer..." he uttered quietly. "Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay?" she managed calmly, although something else seemed to bubble to the surface. She pressed her eyelids tightly together, looking at him with those doey blue eyes—they might have been bright yellow to start with, but she'd tamed her irritation...at least for his sake.
"I'm sorry," Jennifer apologized softly. "I'm not feeling the best right now."
"Baelfire..."
Jennifer heard a female's voice and her eyes shot in the direction as Onora entered the cottage. Jennifer stared at her, standing slowly to her feet. Baelfire looked at her curiously, shocked as Jennifer placed an arm in front of Baelfire.
"Who are you!" Jennifer demanded.
"I..." Onora began.
"Who are you!" Jennifer questioned fiercely. She stepped towards her, but Baelfire caught her arm.
"Easy, Jennifer—it's just Onora."
Jennifer looked at Baelfire, surprised, returning, "Who?"
"Onora," Baelfire repeated. "The maid. She works for us now."
Jennifer looked at Onora who had pressed her back so close against the wall to avoid whatever wrath might have sprung she looked as though she might fall through. Jennifer watched Baelfire quickly take the maid's hand, bringing her over although Jennifer had already done quite a number on her: the woman could scarcely move her feet, looking as though she didn't want to be anywhere near a woman whose eyes changed colors.
"Onora..." Baelfire said, "This is Jennifer."
"The vampire," Onora said, and immediately (like anyone who would meet a vampire), she shielded her neck with her hands.
"Don't worry," Baelfire reassured with a small smile, "She won't hurt you."
Jennifer smiled weakly at Baelfire who was vouching for her. While Baelfire tended to the greetings and exchanging of names and what Onora was doing as a house maid, Jennifer had been thinking a nice lovely idea of biting down on her neck, sucking until Onora looked like a very thin twig, and then relishing in some feel-good sex with Rumplestiltskin whenever he returned...from wherever he was, currently (She hadn't even noticed his absence until now). Jennifer looked at Baelfire, who was waiting for something.
"What?" Jennifer asked.
"Do you want her to buy something at the market to help your headache?" Baelfire repeated.
"No." Jennifer mumbled, shaking her head. "Um...no, no, I will be fine." More directly, she added, "It'll pass."
"A-a-are you sure?" Onora stammered.
Jennifer nodded, but she continued staring at the maid until Baelfire said she could go and the woman nearly tripped over her own two feet scrambling to get out the door in time before the hungry-looking predator bounded after her. Jennifer considered giving her a five-minute head start so the maid could put her things in order before she came after her.
She excused herself, and left shortly after.
000
"Where does that woman live..." Jennifer muttered aloud, trying to sniff her out. She was using those senses her 'master'-if that's what she could even call him, the man that made her into what she is today—told her were so acute and so special. She could smell a frightened child nearly ten miles from her standpoint; that had been impressive. The frustrating part was finding a woman's address within the same village proved to be just too damn difficult—how the hell did that even make sense!
Jennifer scowled, clenching her fists.
"Who are you hunting this time?" An elderly man voiced harshly.
Jennifer laughed, her cynicism just pouring out of her as she slowly turned to see Lydia and Percy standing together, backed by five other village-goers. They all carried a number of blunt objects—daggers, swords, a few pitch forks, torches, the typical mob-scene routine that Jennifer had become all too accustomed to seeing. At some point long ago, she would have felt frightened and be chased off so easily. However, she was feeling much too tired, too hungry to care about the mob, and she certainly was not in the mood for vampire bashing.
Lydia and Percy looked very much determined. No longer did they appear frightened of her, although Lydia—being the mother—looked rather reluctant as always. Meanwhile the freshly gray-bearded Percy with his completely balded head and piercing blue eyes stared right through her as though Jennifer didn't exist. And to him, she knew, Jennifer was only the catalyst; for what really lived inside was a monster—the monster that took his daughter away.
"What do you want?" Jennifer asked flatly.
"I thought we made that clear last time," Percy stated, indicating the mob.
"The last time where you and your friends chased me out of your home?" Jennifer questioned. "Or the last time you two came sneaking into my home with the intention of killing me?"
"Bit of both, really," said a villager from behind them.
"Ah," Jennifer sighed with mocked sadness, "Sounds like betrayal...again."
"You can't be betrayed—you're not even human," Percy stated.
"Funnily enough, betrayal isn't always the human concept. But that doesn't matter. You can't hurt me anymore," Jennifer responded, pointing at him. "You don't mean much to me anymore. You're not my parents."
Lydia winced.
"Parents don't hurt their children," Jennifer said, digging into her mother's wounds. "Parents care about what happens to them."
"If we're your parents, why do you look as though you might attack us?" Percy responded smartly.
"You're the ones holding daggers, torches and pitchforks," Jennifer reminded, twirling a finger at their scene. "And I suggest you stop acting like you're better than me, knowing you tried to kill me in my own home while I was asleep. Luckily, I was up early. So, really, you evened the battlefield."
Lydia stepped past her husband, who tried to take her arm, but Lydia jerked it from him.
"Jennifer, please go—please leave."
"Dejavu," Jennifer muttered. Loudly, she said, "We have done all of this before. I say 'I'm not going anywhere'. You disagreed, telling me to leave. I say 'no', you all try to attack me...Somehow I gain the upper hand...rinse, and repeat."
"The Dark One isn't here to protect you, this time." Percy acknowledged humorously. "He's out with his son, on a walk. Won't be back until the moon is up. By then...who knows...you might be dead."
"I don't need him to protect me," Jennifer responded, laughing. "I've taken care of myself for a long time. You should know, Dad. You never protected me—never once defended any part of me. Where were you when I needed you most, huh? You were too damn self-servant to care how I must have been feeling, how lost I felt."
He didn't stand to hear this. Percy frowned, saying, "You will be leaving, one way or another."
"Is that right?" Jennifer resounded smartly. She stepped forward. "Or...what? You'll kill me? Make a dispenser out of me? Wait, that's too brave. Maybe you'll just wait for me to surrender and when I am not looking, you'll reach inside my chest and then pull out my fucking heart, won't you, Dad? You'll just take it out, wring the blood from it and—hey—why not make it messy? Just get your friends over here after you've done the deed. With their help, you can chop off my head, stick it on a pike...stick it high in the air, wave it like a flag. Then dance around the fucking fire like some crazy people, celebrating your marvelous victory. "
The crowd stared at her with revulsion.
Jennifer walked towards them, her stroll becoming increasingly light-footed, although her eyes were shining bright yellow against their torches.
"And all that sounds fascinating—even a little fun—but the problem is...do you all even have the heart to kill me?"
Percy curled his lip, saying, "You're despicable. And vile. Killing you will be easy."
"Is that right?" laughed Jennifer. "Can you really kill the person...you love most. Oh wait...that's not me anymore. Well, then I suppose it will be easy for you, Daddy. You have come this far, right? Why not dig into that darkness a little deeper. Go on..."
She smirked, as he gave his sword a little swinging as though to warm up.
"You want to kill the beast?" She whispered, smiling widely at him.
She opened her arms as an invitation.
"Go on," Jennifer challenged. "Do it. Either do it now—or stop bloody wasting my time. Granted I have plenty of it, but you're not worth any of my time."
Lydia begged sincerely, "Jennifer...please, sweetheart. Please leave."
"I can't," Jennifer returned.
"Oh—because of the Dark One?" asked Percy.
Jennifer frowned.
"You would stay here—sacrifice your life—for someone who is pathetic and cowardly as the father who left him," Percy stated, stepping towards her. "His own father wanted nothing to do with him. Why would you?"
Jennifer pointed at him, saying with the deadliest of softest tones: "You don't get to talk about him like that—not after the cowardice you displayed back in the forest."
Lydia bowed her head as Percy just piled on.
"His son is afraid of you—he can't stand seeing you the way you are. You are nothing to this village; you're nothing here, you were nothing before—and you'll be nothing wherever you go. You're better off living in that cave, you are better off dead."
"That's right," Jennifer goaded. "Keep talking like that. Keep it up—you're just making it easier for me to fucking kill you!"
A roar erupted from her lungs as she sprung the attack, landing on Percy's chest as he fell back in surprise. The crowd screamed, dispersing as Jennifer wrung his collar, shaking him like a rag doll. Lydia screamed in fear for her husband; the crowd snarled in response, advancing. Jennifer saw nothing when she looked into her father's eyes—no remorse, or fear, sadness...no love, or affection, or regret. There was absolutely nothing.
For a reason.
She'd killed him.
Jennifer stood up quickly, backing away. Lydia threw herself on the man's stomach, crying for his life, for her marriage, for her love. Jennifer stepped back a few paces when the mob's sad eyes became one of anger; the crowd became hostile, walking towards her.
"Shit..." Jennifer whispered.
"Run, Vampire." The crowd all said in different tones and volumes, "Run away."
Jennifer backed up when they withdrew the swords from the sheathes, holding up daggers as though to strike. She glared at them all. But she wasn't leaving empty handed. She sped through the crowd and despite Lydia's fighting, she picked up Percy's body, flinging it over her shoulder, and ran with it over her head, her strength and agility finally living up to the tale of the vampires. Jennifer bounded up a tree and in five seconds, she was gone—having taken her father's body with her.
Lydia fell to her knees, screaming agonizingly into the darkness of the clear sky. Her screams could not even express her sorrow and loss. The crowd around her gathered, arranging into a search party. They'd find her, they vowed. They would find her, and make her pay.
000
Jennifer sat in a tree, her legs dangling off a branch while she held her father in her arms. His eyes were open, blank little holes with blue balls inside of them. His mouth was hanging open from where he'd been scared the moment he had seen Jennifer leap on him—that might have been the last thing he saw. Being as elderly as he was, a heart attack would have sent him over the fine line. Jennifer also considered that he might have died when she'd tore her fingernails into his throat, taking out his esophagus, as well as his voice box.
She didn't give it another thought as her belly growled and she knew she would feel a helluva lot better after she had her feeding. Burying her teeth deep into his neck, Jennifer sucked hard. It would have been similar to drinking a creamy thickened liquid through a small straw. Some of the blood drizzled down his skin, darkening his blue shirt to a dark purple color. Her tongue lapped up the blood, taking in every drop so she couldn't miss any of it. She'd killed her father—but that didn't mean his death had to go unchecked.
He had helped her in the end—sustaining her with his blood, his life.
She drained the corpse completely, leaving a body that appeared skeletal with a gray blanket of skin wrapped around it. Jennifer pushed Percy's corpse off the branch and watched it fall, fall, fall, fall...and she heard the 'thud' when it finally hit the ground. Jennifer leaned her back against the tree, closing her eyes.
Her skin refreshed from the pale grayish glow to a fresh sun-kissed tan. Her eyes, which had been red with exhaustion, were lush and white, the blue becoming exceedingly bright and expressive. The weakness became strength, the headaches were gone, and Jennifer felt particularly desirable again—a feeling that always accompanied the other symptoms of a damn good diet. It was a shame, what she had done. But then again, if she hadn't struck—they would have.
Jennifer knew this.
With the hostile mob after her life again, she would not be returning home. Not when Baelfire's life was there to be chanced. She could live with the mistakes she made where the woman and her child were concerned. She could live with drinking blood from a dying old man, who gave no permission for his last seconds to be spent with a blood thirsty woman. And, while Jennifer didn't care to think she'd killed her father—Percy was also in his seventies, had raised his daughter the best he could (except towards the end, there) and had lived a great deal of his life already.
Not to mention he had tried to kill her...twice.
Jennifer shrugged. Yeah, she could deal with all of her mistakes.
But putting the child at risk, a boy whom she'd befriended...loved, even. And Baelfire, who had played 'war' with her when she had felt so very awkward around him...Baelfire, who introduced people to her as though she was a human being and not the monster. Jennifer couldn't endanger the child. Not Baelfire.
She hoped Rumplestiltskin would understand when he and Baelfire came home and saw her cellar deserted. She hoped they would understand that she had not intended to kill anyone in the village, even when the townspeople had asked for her death. Jennifer sat up, and searched inside the pocket of her now spotted dress where blood had dripped from her hungry lips and dotted the blue dress with the same dark purple crimson color as the dead Percy's clothes.
From her pocket, she took out the straw-spun doll. Jennifer smiled at it, seeing the black feather for hair, the blue pebbles for eyes. She held it close to heart. And like this, she fell asleep.
000
Jennifer heard something. It was a great deal down from where she was perched, but the footsteps were quick. He heard Rumplestiltskin's voice calling out, shouting something. Jennifer glanced around her, realizing she was still up in the tree; after a few shakes, she got the fallen leaves out of her hair and in several jumps down, she caught the main branch, dangling by her hands.
"Jennifer!" Rumplestiltskin called out. His voice sounded odd—desperate. Even, scared. "Jennifer! Jennifer!"
She stooped to see him wandering around alone. Where was his son? Where was Baelfire?
"Jennifer, please!" Rumplestiltskin shouted. He gazed up at the trees; he'd looked directly at her, but he seemed not to see her. "If you're here...please come out! Jennifer!"
She let go of the large thick branch and fell fifty feet. With a 'fomp!' she landed on her feet at the base of the tree trunk, rubbing her face where a branch had nicked her. Rumplestiltskin turned around quickly, and seeing her, he stumbled forward. He took her in a tight hug, nearly knocking her over with how quick he'd scrambled towards her as though if he had waited another second, she might have been taken from him. Never the mind the unkempt hair, the bloodied dress, or anything—he seemed to not see any of it as he held her close to him. Jennifer could feel the tightness of his embrace. He must have missed her a great deal!
"Oh my gods...Jennifer, I thought I lost you..." Rumplestiltskin whispered. His voice was strained, still worried.
"I'm sorry," Jennifer muttered. "I had to leave..."
"Why?" asked Rumplestiltskin.
"I killed my father, Rumple." Jennifer told him. She'd gotten the hang of being blunt. She'd definitely spent too much time around Baelfire.
Rumplestiltskin nodded, saying, "I know."
"I didn't mean to, it was an accide—wait..." Jennifer stopped suddenly. "You know?"
Rumplestiltskin nodded, but his worried expression remained.
"Jennifer, it's horrible." Rumplestiltskin uttered, shaking his head. "It's terrible..."
"This is not about my father's death, is it?" Jennifer asked softly.
Rumplestiltskin said—quite angrily all of a sudden, "Of course this isn't about your stupid father, Jennifer—this isn't about anything you've done! Baelfire...he's...Jennifer, it's what I have done—me, Jennifer—it's about what I have done...or rather, what I didn't do—don't you see?"
Jennifer stepped back, affronted by his tone. But concern replaced her offended expression immediately when he collapsed sorrowfully against the tree, burying his head into hands, shaking his head regretfully. Jennifer joined him, placing a hand on his thigh, the other on his face as she said softly, "Rumple, what are you talking about?"
Rumplestiltskin took her hand in his, a little tightly, from his face and said quietly, "I...I let him go..."
"That's good," Jennifer whispered gently. "He'll come back—you'll see."
"He can't come back," Rumplestiltskin snapped gruffly. "He won't—he can't."
Jennifer stared at him.
"We're not talking about letting someone go emotionally in a metaphorical sense, are we?" Jennifer figured out.
"Of course not," Rumplestiltskin replied unhappily. He took her face in his hands suddenly, startling her. Slowly, almost trying to believe it himself, he said, "I let him go, Jennifer. He tried bringing me...he tried to bring us to a land...to a land without magic and, Jennifer, I let him go. I let him go...i let him go."
He started sobbing uncontrollably, so much that his entire body shook. Jennifer was at a loss for words, having never seen him so distraught. She bit her lip, uncertain what to do. So, she did the only thing she could do. Jennifer pulled him to her, whispering, "Come here, sweetheart..." He laid his head on her bosom, wrapping his arms around her back while she cradled his head.
"It'll be fine—he will be fine." Jennifer whispered.
"He's gone..." Rumplestiltskin whispered. "To a land without magic." He started to cry again, and it was all Jennifer could do to keep from crying herself.
They sat like that for hours, it seemed. When Rumplestiltskin had more control of himself, he had sat up, continuing to remain beside her. In her hand, she held the doll he'd made for her, twirling it in her hand although her mind was somewhere else. Rumplestiltskin glanced at Jennifer.
"You still have that?" Rumplestiltskin asked hoarsely, gesturing to the doll.
"Of course," Jennifer replied. "You made it for me."
"Do you remember why?" Rumplestiltskin asked quietly.
She said, "Yes. This is the way you see me, you said."
"Not completely perfect," Rumplestiltskin said, "But perfect in my eyes."
"Yes," Jennifer uttered lightly. "I remember."
She looked at him.
"You said he had a magic bean..." Jennifer uttered quietly.
Rumplestiltskin looked at her as though vexed that she was bringing up Baelfire again. But it needed to be discussed at some point, he supposed—but he simply didn't want to get into it right now. However, Jennifer had done well regarding his disposition; how she had found him. Tension was built into the air, and seemed to get only thicker.
"He was sucked into a world without magic," Rumplestiltskin muttered.
"What is there in a land without magic?" asked Jennifer.
"Nothing," Rumplestiltskin answered. "And that's the point."
"What is?"
"Baelfire wanted me...us..." he said softly, "to go where there is no magic. So we would be like what we were before all of this happened." He indicated the dagger he wore on his right hip.
Jennifer said softly, "Why didn't you go with him?"
Rumplestiltskin looked at her painfully, and Jennifer simply waited for his answer...or rather, she didn't expect one. Giving him the freedom to confide in her, he supposed. A long time passed. Rumplestiltskin held out his hand and Jennifer gave him the doll she'd still been twirling in her hand. He looked at it for a long while.
"I was afraid," Rumplestiltskin admitted in a voice softer than a whisper. "I needed my power...I need it to not be afraid anymore."
Jennifer placed her hand over his, so he looked at her.
"You regret your decision, don't you, Rumples?" Jennifer asked softly.
Rumplestiltskin nodded. He would have told her not to call him that, but it seemed to stick. Jennifer seemed to only use that little pet name of hers for him when they were (most certainly) alone and after a long time hearing her, he just accepted it for what it was: a pet name for her loved one. Like 'Bae'.
"I regret not going with him," Rumplestiltskin said. "But I would have lost someone regardless of my decision, and therefore would have been left with regret—not matter the path I chose."
"What are you talking about?" asked Jennifer.
"Leaving this world," Rumplestiltskin uttered. "If I had gone to a Land Without Magic, or stayed here, I would have lost someone. If I had gone with Bae, I would have lost you. Staying here, I have lost my son."
Jennifer placed a hand on his cheek farthest from her, turning it so he looked at her—really looked at her. The expression she held in her eyes seemed to startle him for he questioned it wordlessly. When Jennifer spoke, she was sad, but her words remained true.
"I will never ask you to choose between your son and me." Jennifer told him.
"You'd have wanted me to leave?" Rumplestiltskin asked.
"I would have wanted you to be happy—whatever your decision," Jennifer said quietly. "And right now, you're not happy and Baelfire is lost...we must find him."
"Ah, there's a 'we'." Rumplestiltskin pointed out to her. He raised his eyebrows when she stood to her feet, offering her hand. He took it.
"Indeed, there is a 'we'. I've not lived with you and Baelfire very long, but he was the first little boy to introduce me to people without hesitating. He taught me how to fight with a make-believe sword, and he liked my tea." Jennifer stated, brushing her dress off—though what little good it did, for it was still blotched with blood. "And, he introduced me to the help...speaking of which, where does that girl live?"
"I don't think that's relevant," Rumplestiltskin stated.
"Why is that now?"
"She's dead," Rumplestiltskin said. "She overheard Bae and me talking about the dagger."
"So you killed her?" asked Jennifer.
Rumplestiltskin nodded.
"Where'd you hide the body?" she asked.
Rumplestiltskin looked at her incredulously.
"I have to know," Jennifer returned pointedly. "I killed my father—the impulse was there, and my hunger did the rest. Not to say he was undeserving of the cost. He tried to kill me...again."
Rumplestiltskin began to voice his opinion, but Jennifer waved her hand dismissively.
"Body's gone," Jennifer said smoothly. "I didn't let it go to waste."
"So if you've already had your fill, why do you need Onora's body?"
"To stock up," Jennifer answered.
He stared at her.
"Baelfire is lost," Jennifer said. "If we're going to go looking for him, I don't want to be killing every one because I forget to eat. I'm going to make a back-up, so I can just drink when I am feeling peckish rather than waiting until the last damn minute when my impulses decide to kick in."
"You realize that I do not care if you kill people for your thirst—it's a necessity," Rumplestiltskin stated.
"I do realize it. But I'm more concerned about you." Jennifer said. "I don't want to give in to my impulses so foolishly—so quickly—when it concerns you the way I did with my father."
"You couldn't kill me even if you tried, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said—factually and trying to make her feel better.
Jennifer smiled, saying, "I still don't like the odds."
"Then off we go," Rumplestiltskin returned, bowing to her wishes. "I think I put her body over here..."
They started in the direction.
Rumplestiltskin took her wrist before she went on the move. She looked at him curiously.
"You realize that this mission will not be easy," Rumplestiltskin said. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to find Bae. I'll kill anyone who stands in my way, and you'll be none the wiser just to step back and let me do what I must do to get things done. Can you live with that?" He waited for her response.
"I can live with that, considering the fact that I want Baelfire returned to you as well," Jennifer said softly. "Returned to us."
"And here you thought you weren't mother material," Rumplestiltskin said, smiling softly at her.
"Oh shut up," Jennifer responded, but she smiled as well.
She held out her hand and he took it.
"Those village people are not going to be happy when they see me," Jennifer mumbled.
"Well, if it's any consolation, they're never happy to see you," Rumplestiltskin stated offhandedly, "Or me."
Jennifer stopped, looking at him.
"You know," she said curiously, "surprisingly enough, that does make me feel better."
Rumplestiltskin giggled, and they strolled together hand-in-hand.