Once Upon A Time doesn't belong to me. sigh

CHAPTER 7

A small town near the Enchanted Forest- Seven years later

Baelfire was sitting at the table reading. He was captivated by the story of a gallant knight on a quest to slay a fearsome dragon when a knock at the door jolted him back to reality. Frowning, he closed the book, carefully marking his place with the golden bookmark his father, the Dark One, had given him. His da had made it clear and plain to him never to open the door to strangers - well, to anyone, really - while he was away on business. Baelfire peeked warily through the window.

Standing, shivering in the gusty autumn breeze stood a small woman. Her dingy, mustard colored cloak was threadbare. Wind reddened hands clutched the ragged edges of the cloak together. Deciding that this pitiful creature, could offer him little danger, Bae opened the door and stood back.

Quietly, the sad being entered the dwelling, removed her tattered, once-upon-a-time yellow cloak, and hung it on a familiar peg by the door. Then, she engulfed him in a grand hug.

Bae stiffed at the embrace of this stranger. He frowned at her when she stepped back, smiling at him. "I don't know you," he told her.

Her smile never faltered, though, and her hands remained holding his arms. "Nevertheless, I know you. I am your aunt Lucy, your mother's, sister. Where is your father?"

Bae's frown deepened. "Father's not here, and I don't think you really want to see him. No one comes to see him." Bae shrugged elaborately. "It's complicated," Bae muttered, but would say no more.

Bae darted a glance towards the book at the table, and Lucy cleared her throat. "Well, why don't you finish your book? I know Rumple always valued learning. I'll tidy myself and then see to the evening meal."

With an odd glance at this woman, who claimed to be his aunt, Bae returned to the table and his book while Lucy washed her face and tidied her hair. Then she moved deliberately to the hearth as if she'd always been there.

That frozen tableau - Bae at the table reading and a blonde woman stirring a kettle at the hearth where a savory lamb stew bubbled - is what the Dark One found when he returned just after dark. Reptilian eyes narrowed in suspicion as he moved stealthily forward, setting himself between his darling boy and this suspicious newcomer. "Bae," his voice was dangerously soft sing-song, "who's your guest?"

Anxiety crossed the boy's clear features, and he hoped for the woman's sake that she hadn't lied about her identity. Before he could reply, though, she had turned to face them, and her eyes widened in shock. "Rumple!" she gasped. "What has happened to you?" The woman, who called herself his aunt Lucy, rushed forward and grasped the Dark One by his hands. "Rumple?" she cried, "It is you, isn't it?"

He removed her hands from her grasp. "Oh, I have another name, now, dearie," he purred menacingly. "These days I'm called the Dark One." His voice was like the hiss of burning flesh on coals. "And who might you be? And why have you dared enter my home without my permission? Hmm?"

Warily, Bae closed his book, set it down, and stood, making his way gingerly around the table. If his papa decided to attack this poor woman, he wanted to stop it.

"So, it's true then, about your becoming the Dark One," her hard eyes flickered up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance. Amazingly, she showed neither horror of him nor fear. Then, her eyes softened. She could never fear him; she would always love him. "Rumple, you silly man," she told him, then added with bitter humor. "I know I've changed in the seven years since I left with Peter, but not so much as you have, I dare say."

The Dark One tilted his head to the right, evaluating the small woman before him. "What? Lucy?" he questioned. "Is it really you? After all this time?"

She nodded. "And you are the Dark One. Something truly terrible must have happened to force this on you," she stated boldly. "Like me, you only ever wanted a home and a family."

Rumple giggle at her unasked question. "Oh, this?" he asked in a nasal tone. Tossing his head and flourishing his hands, he flicked his fingers to indicate his changed self. "Just something I picked up to protect the boy."

Lucy narrowed her eyes as his words penetrated her brain. She didn't know the details, but she didn't have to know them. If he said he took on this curse to protect the boy, then he did. "My sister did not deserve you," she told him. Her words were soft, but her tone was angry. "No matter, now," she sighed. A deep breath later, she again took charge of the Dark One and his son. "Are you hungry? The stew is done, and I've baked some fresh bread for you. Rumple, Bae, sit and eat," Lucy ordered them gently. Setting a trencher in front of father and son, she quickly filled two mugs with cold milk and slathered several thick slices of bread with butter. Then, she sat across from them with her own small bowl and mug.

When the meal was finished and cleared away in a puff of purple smoke, Rumple turned to his wheel, amazing Lucy with the pure lengths of gold that fell away. "Off to bed with you now, Bae," the Dark One said. "I need to speak with your aunt, and you need to sleep."

No longer fearing that his papa would turn on the woman, Bae smiled and kissed his papa goodnight, heading upstairs to his loft bed. He hoped this lady would stay with them. Not only could she cook the most delicious stew and melt-in-your-mouth bread, but apparently she could also handle his papa like an expert.

STORYBROOKE The Sheriff's Office

Public Defender Cucurbita smiled at him as if he were a child, but she took his hand and shook it. "Yes, it's a deal," she humored him.

"I suppose you should lock me back inside," he told her. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the cell.

"Yes, I suppose so," she agreed. Linda found the keys on Sheriff Swan's desk and joined Mr. Gold at the door of the cell.

He stepped inside and stood back allowing her to swing the barred door into place. "By the way, Ms. Cucurbita," he inquired off-handedly, "do you have a favorite fairy tale?"

Linda paused holding the key just shy of the lock. She frowned at him. "What are you talking about? Fairy tales?" she asked. "I don't understand what you're getting at."

"It's just a harmless question, dear. Which tale catches your fancy?" he told her.

She was at a complete loss as to how to answer him, and she turned the key slowly in the lock. "I'm not much for fairy tales. I prefer short stories like "The Necklace," she answered him.

Gold frowned. "I'm not familiar with that one, my dear. What's it about?"

"It's about a foolish woman who can't see the true value of the things she has," Linda told him. "I like it because it's so like real life. So many people choose the flashy things and people." She snorted. "You know," she told him, "just because something glitters doesn't mean it's gold."