Questions to Answer: I've received a lot of questions in reviews, some from anonymous reviewers, so I thought I would answer them here:
Is SwanQueen endgame? Although they'll be good friends, Regina will have StableQueen (past) and OutlawQueen (future). Emma's going to be all over the map, with a little Gremma and a little CS, and (eventually) some SwanFire. She probably won't be in a firm relationship by the end of the story, though that could change as I write.
Where did Gabrielle (Renee)'s name come from? Gabrielle is named after Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve, who wrote the first published version of "Beauty and the Beast."
Will Graham live? Probably. This is a very different Storybrooke from the one we know, so anything is possible.
Who is Keith Law? Keith is the Sheriff of Nottingham. The show didn't give him a last name, so I improvised.
Chapter Nine—"Hope Amidst Darkness"
November 7, 2011
Cora waited until she was done with work on Monday before heading to the library. After all, what was the hurry? Time might be moving, but Cora viewed that as an interesting challenge to overcome, not a threat to her power. Lacey French was hardly a force to be reckoned with, Gold's doxy or not. She might be the kind and gentle sort that a traumatized Gold turned to, but she was no match for a woman who had scraped, fought, and killed her way up from being the miller's daughter to the most feared queen in the entire Enchanted Forest. Lacey French had been no one of importance back in their world, and she continued to be insignificant here. Cora could make her disappear with the snap of her fingers, and that would not even require magic.
Power was power, after all, and Cora cultivated it in all its many forms, not just magical. So, she was fully confident when she stepped into the library, pausing to look around and see if any patrons were there. There weren't, of course; few people other than children and teachers frequented Storybrooke's Library, because that might have given some of them a measure of peace. Peace, of course, was not welcome in Storybrooke. Cora had no intention of allowing her peons to be happy. None of them had ever done anything for her. Why would she want them to be anything other than miserable?
"Miss French," she called, and watched the librarian jerk in surprise across the room. Lacey spun around, her too-bright blue eyes wide with surprise.
"Madam Mayor," she said a little shakily; Cora was pleased. "What brings you to the library?"
The librarian hurried over gratifyingly quickly, and Cora gave her a hard-edged smile. "I wanted to return a book to you."
"Oh. That's the fairy tale book I gave Henry. Is he done with it already?"
"He most certainly is," Cora snapped, and then caught herself. Queens only showed anger when they wished to, and she did not need outright threats to frighten this little girl. More calmly, Cora placed the book on the desk between them. "He will not need this book again."
"All right…" Lacey said slowly, and Cora did not appreciate the quizzical look the librarian was giving her.
"Is there something you do not understand, Miss French?" she demanded.
"No, I think I understand you just fine." But there was an edge in the reply Cora had not expected, so she specified:
"You'll not give this book back to Henry again. Is that clear?"
Lacey definitely did not take the hint; the girl only shrugged and said: "This is a library, Madam Mayor. All the books are available to everyone."
Was she really that stupid, or was the girl just pretending not to understand her? Cora wasn't certain, though she did have to remind herself that Gold's nice little woman probably had to have at least a little intelligence, otherwise she would never have kept even Rumple's cursed self interested. Of course, Gold was not nearly as complicated as Rumplestiltskin, but the curse did keep some of his more intriguing attributes intact—otherwise Cora would never have continued to be interested in him herself.
And that was another reason to dislike the little whore. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to face the librarian fully, not yet drawing on the power of the curse but gathering it to herself just in case.
"Miss French, if you want to keep your cozy little job here—and not have to answer inconvenient questions about the level of care you do or do not provide for your little brat—you'll do as I say," Cora told her bluntly, letting her eyes travel to the playpen that contained a cheerfully laughing three year old child. The little bastard was paying no attention to them, but Cora could still use her presence against Lacey if need be. "And I do not want my grandson to reading such filth."
The mention of her little brat had made Lacey flinch, and Cora knew the blow struck home. "I…I understand."
"Good," she said with another sharp-edged smile. "See that you do not forget."
"I won't." Blue eyes flicked away from hers, a clear sign of defeat, and Cora felt the sweet feeling of victory soaring through her.
"Have a nice afternoon," she told the librarian, and strode out of the library with her head held high like the queen she was.
Lacey spent a few long moments in silence after the mayor left, sitting down and shaking, glancing every few seconds at Renee to make sure that her daughter was still there. She knew that she shouldn't be afraid of the mayor, that those threats shouldn't faze her, but one word from Cora Mills could lead to Lacey losing her job and all hope of taking care of Renee. Being the librarian didn't pay well enough for a luxurious life, but she was able to make ends meet well enough that she didn't need the money that Gold slipped her from time to time. Or had, anyway, before he'd started ignoring her for her own "safety". She'd been doing well before that happened, but the fact that the mayor had marched in and threatened her only made life a thousand times worse. She'd already lost Gold—what if she lost her job, and then Renee, too? Her father had already tried to force her to give up Renee for adoption more than once, and Lacey knew that her father wouldn't take them both in if she lost her job. He'd demand she give up Renee first.
But Lacey had never been the sit and cry type; after a few moments of bawling her eyes out quietly, she wiped her face, cuddled her daughter, and went back to work. There were books to be organized, and she was thinking of redecorating the children's section. It had been painted with that peeling rainbow for as long as Lacey could remember, and Ruby had offered to help her repaint it this weekend, if only she could manage to move all the books out of the way first.
"Hi, Miss French!"
Startled, Lacey spun to see the young owner of that cheerful voice and watched young Henry Nolan bounce into the library. He was all smiles and optimism, just like he always was, ready to like everyone regardless of the circumstances. Henry was the library's most frequent patron, young or old, and usually she was delighted to see him. He was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dreary town, and what with the way Lacey's last two weeks had been going, she really could use a pick-me-up. But after her conversation with Cora less than an hour earlier, it was all she could do not to grimace. Why did Cora not want Henry to read a book about fairy tales? What did she have against such stories? Some sort of recognition pricked at the edge of Lacey's mind, hovering just out of reach, but when the answer didn't come to her, she shrugged the thought away.
Henry seemed not to notice, breezing into the library with a grin on his face. "Hiya, Renee," he added, and Lacey's daughter waved in response.
"Henry!"
Everyone liked Henry, particularly Renee. And at least watching her daughter's enthusiasm could make Lacey smile wanly.
"Hello, Henry," she said. "What brings you in today? Do you need something for class?"
Deep brown eyes studied her intently, and for a moment Henry reminded her very strongly of someone, although Lacey could not think of who. "My grandmother was here, wasn't she?"
Lacey blinked. She'd always known Henry was smart, but she hadn't expected him to figure that out. "Well…yes."
"I'm sorry. She's not very nice," the youth said, plopping down in a chair and looking at Lacey solemnly. "She doesn't like my Book, does she?"
Somehow, Lacey didn't have to ask which book. The fact that Cora had been there less than an hour earlier to berate her for even daring to think that books in the library were available for loan—and one book in particular—told Lacey everything she needed to know. What it didn't do was make her understand why Mayor Mills was so angry; all Lacey had done was give a curious boy a book on fairy tales. Oh, the fairy tales inside that specific book were a little unorthodox. Lacey had read the book before giving it to Henry, and had found them strange if engaging. Henry was a special boy, though, and he had come to the library more than once to look for answers that no one seemed able to give him. So, Lacey had handed him the book and suggested he read it, hoping that he could at least find something to capture his imagination.
It seemed that she'd been successful on that front, perhaps more so than she had intended. Henry had carried that book everywhere for the last three weeks or so; Lacey had seen him with it in the library, at Granny's, and even walking to school with it in his hands. He seemed to be sharing it with both of his mothers, too, even the new deputy sheriff who seemed to be his birth mother. Lacey hadn't met Emma Swan yet—she tried to steer clear of the entire office thanks to Keith Law's obsession with her—but she was happy to see that Henry was connecting with her, even if it was through a book full of fairy tales. After all, Lacey had been quite an odd child herself, so she knew the feeling of being different.
"No, she doesn't," she answered Henry's question with a little nervous laugh.
"Did she tell you not to give it back to me?" the boy asked bluntly, and Lacey gaped.
"How…how did you know that?"
He shrugged. "She doesn't like the book because it's true. All of it."
"I've read that book," Lacey reminded him, managing a real smile this time. "It's about a curse cast by an evil queen, and—"
"And she's the Evil Queen," Henry cut her off. "Don't you see it? That's why she doesn't like the Book, because it tells everyone what she did. That curse is why everyone is here, and why everyone is unhappy."
"Henry…" Lacey started to object, not sure what to say. But the ten year old only strode over to the circulation desk where the fairy tale book still sat, grabbing it and flipping through the pages until he found the right one.
"Look! You're in here."
Against her better judgment, Lacey looked at the picture that Henry was pointing at. It was a watercolor of a dark-haired girl about her own age, with long hair and blue eyes of the same shade that hers were. The artwork wasn't that good, and the features were a little cartoonish, but even Lacey could detect the resemblance between that picture and the face she saw in the mirror every morning. Why didn't I ever see that before? she wondered to herself. That's from one of my favorite stories, and I love yellow dresses. A little startled, she looked back up at the boy holding the book, and Henry grinned triumphantly.
"I bet you never noticed before, did you?" he demanded.
"No," she admitted with an awkward smile.
"That's because you can't," Henry explained. "The curse keeps you from knowing. But you're Belle from Beauty and the Beast. You have to be. You love books, you run the library, and you look just right. The only thing I can't figure out is Renee."
The unexpected reference to her daughter made Lacey blink. "What?"
"Well, the story's pretty straightforward. Beauty goes with the Beast to save her people from the ogres, and then they fall in love. So he lets her go, but she comes back. Then they get married—the Book gets a little vague there, something about some special town where she can't break his curse. Because the weird part in their story is that he Beast doesn't want his curse broken for some reason, but Belle loves him anyway," the boy recounted the story that Lacey had read at least a hundred times. She'd always liked that story the best out of the entire book, because its message wasn't about making someone change because you loved them; Beauty loved the Beast no matter what he looked like, and he loved her despite the fact that she was willful and stubborn. Theirs' wasn't a typical fairy tale—they got married but they couldn't really kiss—but it spoke to Lacey for some reason.
"You think that's me?" she finally managed to ask. Why did she believe any of this? But it all made sense. That story felt more real that most of her own memories did.
"Well, yeah, it's obvious," Henry said with the kind of certainty only a ten year old could muster. "But what I don't get is Renee. She's not in the story. I think she might have been misplaced."
"Misplaced?" Lacey demanded, not sure she liked the implication of what that meant for her beloved daughter.
"Some of the kids in my class aren't with the right families. The Evil Queen liked to split people up," he replied. Henry looked a little like he was bracing himself before he added: "I think Renee might be one of them."
A long moment passed before Lacey could find her voice. "You mean that you think Renee isn't my daughter at all," she said flatly.
"Maybe?" He looked a little guilty.
"Absolutely not." Renee had always been her daughter. Renee was the only thing in Lacey's life that really mattered, the only thing she'd ever done right in a very screwed up past. Almost on their own, her blue eyes traced in on her daughter, who was giggling obliviously at the puzzle she'd been working on. "That's not possible. Even if you're right—and I'm not saying you are—the story doesn't end there. There's nothing that says Beauty and the Beast can't have a daughter."
The thought of losing Renee scared her even more than the mayor's threats had.
"I dunno, Miss French." Then Henry smiled, perhaps a little too brightly. "But that means you have a True Love here in Storybrooke, and the Beast would be human here. Do you have any idea who he might be?"
"I…I have no idea," she stuttered, her mind still full of the idea of losing her daughter. Henry really was good at throwing her for loops today.
"Will you think about it?"
Lacey swallowed hard, pushing her fears aside. "Sure."
"Thanks!" Henry beamed. "It's nice to have someone else to talk about this with. Emma thinks I'm crazy, and Mom…well, Mom has to deal with my grandmother, and that's no picnic."
"I imagine it isn't," she answered automatically. No one was going to take Renee from her. No matter what. Lacey wasn't going to let that happen.
"Grandma told you not to give me the Book back, right?" Henry asked suddenly, and that managed to cut through the fog in Lacey's mind.
"I can't risk my job over a book, Henry," she said softly, glancing back at her daughter once more.
"Then…why don't you go pay attention to Renee, and then you won't know who borrowed it?" the clever boy suggested. "If you don't see me take it, you don't know, right?"
"Henry…"
"If Grandma sees me with it, I'll tell her I stole it," he replied brightly. "I promise."
She didn't know why she went along with it. Common sense said that she shouldn't, that she shouldn't believe a moment of Henry's wild tales about fairy tales being true and the entire town being under a curse. But Lacey wanted to. If Henry had not brought up the possibility of Renee being someone else's daughter, she would probably have believed him wholeheartedly, because that book had always seemed so very real to her. Lacey had felt out of place her entire life, like she didn't quite belong and almost no one understood her. The only one who ever seemed to understand her at all was Gold, and the dreamer inside her desperately wanted to know there was a better world waiting out there, something nicer than this terrifying little town where one woman could so easily ruin so many lives.
Lacey French was afraid of Cora Mills, but she turned her back and let Henry take the fairy tale book, anyway. After all, the Belle from the stories was strong and brave. Maybe Lacey could be like that.
4 Years Before the Curse
Gaston had not returned, nor had any kind of word. They had sent him back to Avonlea over two months earlier, along with a letter and an enchanted box that would instantly deliver letters to the Dark Castle once they were put inside. He should have reached Belle's father more than three weeks ago, even if traveling conditions had been terrible, and that meant that Sir Maurice had not wanted to reply. For his own part, Rumplestiltskin didn't particularly care if Sir Maurice wanted to wish them both straight to hell, but he knew that her father was important to Belle, so he kept such thoughts to himself, awkwardly taking her hands when she sighed:
"I just wish Papa would have sent something. I told him I love you, and that I just wanted his blessing. Is that so hard?"
"Most people only see the monster in me, sweetheart," he answered her honestly, reaching up to touch her cheek as Belle leaned into his chest with a sigh. "Your father probably thinks I've bewitched you."
She snorted. "You wouldn't know how to seduce a woman if your life depended on it, Rumple."
"I do have a little more experience than that," Rumplestiltskin objected before he could think the better of it.
"That's why I had to kiss you," Belle retorted, tipping her head back to look at him with the blue eyes that always threatened to make Rumplestiltskin forget all the reasons for holding onto his curse. "And that's why I had to tell you that I wanted to marry you. Because left to your own devices, you would never have asked."
"I would have—" he started, only to have her cut him off with a giggle.
"Eventually," she agreed. "Probably, anyway."
"Belle!" Dark Ones did not whine, so if his voice got a little high-pitched on that objection, well, there was no particular reason.
Her smile could have provided enough light for a thousand suns. "It's all right," she said softly, moving a hand to place it on his heart. "I love you the way you are, but I'm not waiting any longer. It's Papa's loss if he doesn't want to come. So take me away, Rumplestiltskin, to this magical place in which you say we can get married."
He did not need to be told twice.
Head spinning, Rumplestiltskin picked himself up off of the floor, making it into a sitting position before he had to stop to catch his breath. She'd maced him. Little Princess Ella had scraped up the spine to attack him and steal that contract, the one that the curse had so adeptly written for Mr. Gold. He had warned the girl back in the Enchanted Forest, had told her that one way or another he would make sure their deal was fulfilled. He didn't want the child, of course—never had—but Rumplestiltskin wanted what the deal would get him here in the Land Without Magic. And he was so damn close that it hurt.
So did his head. Raising a shaking hand to touch his head, Rumplestiltskin realized that he was bleeding. Had that silly girl—? No. The memory was becoming clearer. He'd done this to himself, hitting his head on the counter as he fell. The rapid stinging in his eyes, however, was all Ella's doing. Or Ashley Boyd's. The meek, frightened little maid was definitely starting to show more characteristics of her true self, and that was good. Time was moving, and things were changing. People were changing, little by little, returning to who they were meant to be. Under other circumstances, Rumplestiltskin would be pleased by that development, but right now he was more than a little annoyed by Ella's boldness.
Well. At least things were moving along. Ashley would run, and the Savior would track her down. He hadn't had the chance to meet Miss Swan yet, but Ashley having stolen the contract would give Gold the perfect opportunity to call upon their new deputy sheriff. Then Emma would prove that she was indeed the Charmings' daughter, and he would have the favor he needed, the one he had set this entire deal up to get.
"It's not about the child," he explained to a fuming Belle, hands up and trying to placate his very put out True Love. "She'll never give me the child, and that's what I want."
"Then why the trickery?" Belle asked, her anger a little mollified. At least she wasn't looking at him like he was a stranger, anymore, not the way she had been a few moments earlier. "Why not just ask for what you want?"
"Because it's not Princess Ella or her feckless prince who are going to give me what I want."
Belle cocked her head. "I don't understand."
Rumplestiltskin smiled. "She won't have the child until after we're in the Land Without Magic," he explained. "And it's the Savior, the Charmings' little girl, who will make deal to save her. I don't know the details yet, but that much I know."
"I think you're making this more complicated that it has to be," she laughed at him teasingly.
"You have no idea, sweetheart," he replied, laughing with her. "Just wait until I let them lock me up."
"You what?"
Shaking himself free of the memory—an effort that only made his aching head hurt more—Rumplestiltskin levered himself to his feet, finding his cane along the way and swaying only slightly. He would make his next move in the morning, would go visit Miss Swan and Miss Blancard's loft and then enlist the Savior to find their runaway princess. It would be his first real move since waking up, Rumplestiltskin's reemergence on the board as a player in the game. Cora would not detect the importance of this tiny favor because it was in keeping with Gold's character, but it would be the first step to defeating her.
And then his phone rang, effectively taking Rumplestiltskin out of play for the rest of the evening and the following morning.
4 Years Before the Curse
The horseless carriage left them outside the gates to the small town, and a quartet of people rushed out to meet them, all smiles and breezy greetings. Belle peered curiously out of the carriage window, looking around Rumplestiltskin with eyes wide in wonder. "Where are we?"
"Amorveria," he replied, hopping out of the carriage and relishing his ability to move so freely. It would only last another few moments, so Rumplestiltskin reminded himself to enjoy that were it lasted. "The one town in the Enchanted Forest where no magic works…except for True Love."
The quartet of footmen were dressed in identical livery, and as Rumplestiltskin handed Belle down from the carriage, they absconded with the luggage off the back of the coach, carrying it through the gates and off towards the cottage Rumplestiltskin had rented. Belle watched them with barely concealed excitement, her eyes wide and her hand tight on Rumplestiltskin's arm. Just watching her so happy made his heart flutter in his chest, his worn black heart that was so open and vulnerable to this amazing woman.
"It really exists?" she asked breathlessly. "I thought you were just pulling my leg."
"Oh, no," he answered, grinning back. "I did promise you someplace magical, did I not?"
"Anywhere with you is magical."
His smile was so huge that it hurt his face, but Rumplestiltskin offered Belle his arm, summoning a gentleman's walking stick to his right hand as he did so. He had been to Amorveria before, and Rumplestiltskin knew what the town's peculiar lack of magic would do to him once he stepped through its gates. He had come here once, over a century previously, in search of rare ingredients to make a binding potion for some noblewoman or another with a wandering husband. Then, he hadn't believed the rumors about Amorveria, but once Rumplestiltskin had stepped inside the town—and almost fallen flat on his face—he had been forced to accept the fact that the stories were true. All of them.
"So, where to?" Belle asked, pressing her hip against his as they stepped through the stone archway over the open gates. "I mean, where to first, since you said we are—oh."
He had been prepared for the transition this time, with the walking stick firmly in his right hand and there to steady himself. Still, the feeling of magic seeping out of his bones was anything but pleasant, particularly because it lacked the beautiful surge of power that had accompanied Belle's kiss. At least the process was quick; he could feel the curse retreating further and further inside him until only the barest whisper remained. It wasn't broken, nor even truly cowed, but the curse of the Dark One was muted here. Quickly, scales vanished beneath pale skin, blackened teeth were replaced by human ones, and his claws turned to normal nails. The transition left him breathless and leaning more heavily on Belle than he wanted to, but his fiancée was staring at him with huge blue eyes.
"Rumple?" she asked softly.
He turned to face her, favoring his right leg a little as he reacquainted himself with how to use this sort of cane. "Still here, sweetheart. I told you that the only magic that works here is True Love. Even my curse is…quiet."
"Is this what you looked like before?" Belle breathed, her eyes searching his face.
"Yes." Rumplestiltskin swallowed, starting to wonder if this was a good idea. While he'd wanted to give Belle something he could not do under normal circumstances, and he'd planned out this grand romantic gesture—he had never once thought about how she might react to him. To the spinner he'd been. To the coward, the human, the man who Milah had said made her so miserable. He tried a self-deprecating smile. "I know it's not much—"
"I think you're very handsome," Belle cut him off, and Rumplestiltskin blinked in surprise. Even Milah had never said that, at least not that he could remember.
"You do?" he managed to stutter.
Her smile was soft. "Of course I do."
Rumplestiltskin didn't know what to say. He could only stand and stare at Belle, with now his eyes wide and uncomprehending. Soft fingers reached out, tracing his cheek gently, and Rumplestiltskin leaned into her touch, feeling peace steal through his very tattered soul. Before he knew it, his eyes slid shut, and for a moment, all he felt was love.
"I love you," he whispered, opening his eyes.
Belle's smile was brilliant, if a little shy. "And I you," she replied. "Human or Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, I love you."
He had never thought he'd have this, never once thought anyone could love him so completely or so purely. But here Belle was, with her heart shining through in her eyes, glowing with love for him. He was a monster and a villain, someone who had been abandoned time and again—but not this time. Not this woman. Perhaps it was because his curse was quieter here; he could barely hear its whispers in his mind, and only then if he concentrated. Or perhaps his love for Belle was strong enough to give him strength he'd never had before.
"Then come marry me," Rumplestiltskin said softly, his heart pounding against his ribs.
"I'd like nothing better."
A/N:Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback! It inspired me to write a truly huge amount over the weekend (over 17,000 words!), and I can't thank you enough.
Next up is Chapter Ten: "The Deals We Make," where Emma tries to help Ashley Boyd and winds up meeting Mr. Gold, which leads to a miserable encounter between Lacey and Gold. Henry tries to help, and Regina gets in an argument with her old mentor. Meanwhile in the past, Rumplestiltskin and Belle finally get married.