Questions to Answer:
Does Cora know who the Wicked Witch is? She certainly does, but how she knows will come into play later.
Will Snow get her heart back? Definitely. Regina's not the kind of sister who will leave her little sister without a heart any longer than she has to, and Cora doesn't want it forever, anyway. Cora just has something specific she wants to do with it before she gives it back.
Warning: Strong references to rape/non-con in this chapter. Not graphic.
Chapter Twelve—"Meant to Be"
Emma and Henry had been upstairs playing video games and had somehow lost track of time. Henry, of course, had wanted to talk about Operation Cobra (when didn't he?), but Emma had done a little pre-planning of her own. Before Regina dropped Henry off that Saturday morning, Emma had talked Mary Margaret into telling Henry that she wanted to read the Book, which gave Emma a little time with her kid without a giant evil curse getting between them. They'd had a fun afternoon and had gotten engrossed in King's Quest VII: The Princeless Bride, which meant that when Emma looked at the clock, it was already after five PM. She frowned.
"Your mom should have been here an hour ago," she told Henry. "Grab your bag and we'll go see what's up."
"Sure," Henry replied, hopping up. Emma had wisely caught him between chapters, so it wasn't like she was interrupting, which never worked well with a ten year old. Henry, however, looked thoughtful. "I wonder what's going on. Mom's never late. Grandma hates that."
The mention of Cora Mills made Emma grimace as they headed down the stairs. Storybrooke's mayor really was a piece of work. Regina and David were great parents, even if David was a little spacey sometimes. Emma would never have worried for Henry at all if not for the toxic presence of his adopted grandmother in his life. There were also moments—although never around Henry—when Emma could see the shadow of Cora in Regina, in the temper that sometimes crept out or the sharp edges that the mayor's daughter carefully hid. Without Cora, Emma had a feeling that Regina would have always been a much nicer person.
Laughter drifted up the stairs to them, and Emma almost ran into Henry when he stopped cold at the bottom. But she didn't have to ask Henry why he was so shocked—there Mary Margaret and David stood, leaning over the kitchen island together and reading the Book.
"I could never do that!" Mary Margaret was saying with a shy smile.
"I bet you could," David grinned back, and Emma watched in surprise as their eyes met. The chemistry between the pair was unmistakable; it was almost like sparks were flying in the air around them.
"I would not bash someone in the head with a rock," Mary Margaret objected.
David shrugged. "Sometimes it's necessary. Someone did it to me once, and I bet it was because I deserved it. Though I don't really remember."
"No!"
"See? Look, check out the scar."
He pointed, and Mary Margaret gaped. "That's so weird. It looks just like the one in the Book…"
Staring, Emma had to swallow hard before she could look at Henry. She knew that the kid thought David and Mary Margaret were her parents, but this was beyond odd. Sure, whoever had actually written the book could have been smart enough to incorporate David Nolan's real scar, but… Being a skeptic is getting harder by the day, she thought without meaning to. This was all so weird, but it wasn't possible, was it? Henry, of course, bounced into the conversation, looking both excited and vindicated.
"Hi, Dad!"
"Hey, you." David seemed to have a hard time looking away from Mary Margaret, but they both managed, and Mary Margaret smiled as David ruffled Henry's hair.
"Your book is amazing, Henry," she said.
"Are you remembering, yet? You two are True Love and—"
"Kid, don't you think that's a bit much?" Emma cut him off, and watched Henry sigh.
"No," he grumbled. "They deserve to know the truth. It's not like Mom wants to be married to her brother-in-law, anyway."
"Henry!" Emma and Mary Margaret gasped together, but David looked almost…thoughtful. Emma just suppressed a groan.
"It's time to go home, right, Dad?" the indefatigable ten year old said to avoid the rebuke.
"Yeah, it's my turn to cook dinner, so we'd better get moving," David replied reluctantly. "Where did the time go?"
"Have you two been talking for an hour?" Emma had to ask.
Mary Margaret blushed. "Longer, I think. David showed up early, and we didn't want to disturb you two."
Henry was never going to shut up about this. Sure enough, the kid was glowing as he shoved the damn fairy tale book in his bag and turned to David.
"Let's go," he said to his adopted father. "We can talk on the way!"
Emma tried to throw a commiserating look Mary Margaret's way, but her roommate's shining eyes were still fastened on David. She looked absolutely smitten, almost like the pictures of Snow White when she looked at Prince Charming in the Book. You're crazy if you believe that, Emma thought, but she couldn't quite convince herself all the way. Looking at the two of them together made thinking that they belonged together way too easy…but even if Henry's curse was real, they were all in for trouble.
Gold had always hated weekends, and Rumplestiltskin quite agreed. He generally did not open the shop on Sundays, which meant many of his Saturday nights were spent in a bed not his own, one he didn't at all care to be in. This, of course, was one of those nights. As he stared up at the ceiling and tried to ignore the breathing of the woman next to him, Rumplestiltskin supposed that he should be grateful that Cora hadn't left him somewhere less comfortable than in her bed, but the idea of feeling any gratitude towards the woman who so frequently raped and hurt him only whipped his curse into a fury.
Land Without Magic or not, he could still hear the whispers. Kill her! it demanded.
I will, he promised firmly. There was no doubt about that in his mind, none whatsoever. Cora could live until the curse was broken—providing the Savior with an enemy to oppose and then the mob with a villain to chase down—but then she was done for.
Slowly, he shifted out from under Cora's arm and pulled away from her sleeping grip. She made a soft noise of annoyance, but did not wake, and he was pathetically glad to see that. Hesitantly, Rumplestiltskin moved shaking fingers to touch the raised welts on his stomach, hissing in pain as he did. Cora had ended the evening playful but had started angry, which never turned out well. Although her frustration had not been with him, Cora was far too accustomed to taking her fury out on Gold. Twenty-eight years of having a convenient punching bag was a hard habit to break, particularly when she had no reason to do so. And particularly when she could so easily stop him from fighting back.
Those welts were going to hurt for weeks if his experience was anything to go by, and Gold's memories indicated that Rumplestiltskin's instincts were right. Shaking, Rumplestiltskin dropped his hand back to the mattress and refocused his gaze on the ceiling. He didn't want to look at the rest of the damage. Playing along with this travesty was getting old, but he would do so as long as Cora didn't suspect what he was doing. Everything would be worth it in the end. It would have to be.
"Wishing you were someplace else?" Cora purred sleepily. Even half-awake, she reveled in her power, turning on her side so that she could gaze at him complacently.
"It's hard not to," he growled.
Cora laughed softly, reaching her left hand to his stomach and making Rumplestiltskin yelp in pain as she pressed down. Instinctively, his hands came up to shove hers away, until she said: "Hands down. Now."
The curse pushed them back to the mattress, and magic held them there. Rumplestiltskin hated his own clever ideas more than ever, and didn't try to keep the snarl back as her fingers played over the welts and then drifted downwards. He turned his head away.
"Don't make me tie you back down," she murmured.
"Cora…"
A finger landed on his lips. "Shh."
It wasn't yet dawn, and it was going to be a long night.
4 Years Before the Curse
Sunlight streamed through the open windows, and if Rumplestiltskin listened carefully, he could hear waves hitting the beach. The cottage he had rented in Amorveria was right on the water—he expected that Belle would later want to walk on the beach that was right outside the front door—but for now, he found that just listening to the soft sound of water lapping against the sand was rather peaceful. Rumplestiltskin couldn't remember a time when he had just laid in bed and drowsed. Inactivity did not sit well with his curse; it was almost as driven has he was, though the curse was driven to darkness and great deeds while Rumplestiltskin was driven only to find his son. Yet here the curse was quieter, only a bare whisper, and even Rumplestiltskin's own quest was able to wait a little while. Here…he was at peace.
That was a strange feeling, but not stranger than the feeling of having a warm body pressed up against his own, of breathing in the sweet smell of a woman's hair. Belle's head was nestled on his chest, and she was snoring softly, her blue eyes closed and the very image of contentment. Gently, he kissed the top of her head, part of him still utterly amazed that this beautiful, perfect woman could possibly want him. Yet she had married him the afternoon before, had sworn to love him for eternity whilst Rumplestiltskin did the same. Belle had been uncertain in his arms, but in no way unwilling, and they had demonstrated the depth of their love together the night before. Rumplestiltskin might have thought it was a dream if not for the fact that Belle still lay beside him, beautiful and real and his.
He had no idea how long he lay there just listening to her breathe, just marveling in her presence. Finally, however, Belle stirred, blinking sleepily and turning her head to look up at him. A small, secretive smile crossed her face.
"Hello," Belle said hesitantly.
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "Good morning."
"Morning." Belle snuggled into him sleepily as Rumplestiltskin glanced out the open doors.
"Or afternoon, rather," he said lightly. "For I do believe it is past noon."
"Is it?" Coming up on one elbow, Belle peered out the doors, seeing the sun indeed high in the sky. Seeing that made her blush. Or perhaps the sudden flush on her face came from the frankly appreciative glance Rumplestiltskin stole at her now-uncovered breasts.
"I don't think I have slept so late since I was a girl, and then my governess thrashed me soundly," she admitted, sneaking back under the covers.
"Did she? Then tell me her name and I shall curse her just as soundly."
"Rumple!"
"A quip, sweetheart, nothing more," he laughed, bending his head to kiss her forehead, only for Belle to twist and find his lips with her own. Being able to kiss was still so wonderful, so new, and although they had thoroughly acquainted themselves with the practice last night, Rumplestiltskin thought he would never tire of being able to kiss the woman he loved. Every time he did, he could feel the echo of power surging through his veins, could feel the purest and oldest magic filling him. His sense of magic was dulled here, quieted like his curse was, but Rumplestiltskin could still feel True Love running through his soul.
"Good," Belle smiled, placing a quick kiss on his nose before snuggling back into his chest. "I don't care what time it is. I want to stay here with you."
"That's why they call it a honeymoon. We can do whatever we like."
Not that he'd ever known such freedom before, not even before he'd become the town coward and been hated by his own wife. Now, however, Rumplestiltskin truly was free to lie idly, free to luxuriate in the newness of his bride's embrace. The people of Amorveria did not know who he was; they thought he was some visiting lord who simply looked odd (which he supposed technically he was, given that the Dark Castle commanded the loyalty of many miles of lands and the town at the bottom of the mountain) and cared only for the money he brought to the town. They did not think of him as some dark creature, just a man who had come to wed his True Love in the town where True Love itself was the highest law.
"I never dreamed it could be like this." Belle's fingers started tracing patterns on his chest, and Rumplestiltskin shivered delightfully. "I always thought I would have to marry a brute like Gaston, never that I would find someone like you."
"Never imagined that you would get the Dark One, did you?" he tried to ask the question lightly, but even Rumplestiltskin heard the catch in his voice.
Belle did, too, and immediately turned over, her chest against his and her face mere inches from his own. Suddenly serious, her blue eyes met his, and Belle kissed him hard. "I love you, Rumplestiltskin," she said fiercely. "I love all of you, even the darkest parts, and I would not trade you for anyone. Do you understand that?"
"No," he whispered honestly. "I will never understand what you see in me."
"Love," Belle whispered. "True Love."
He could deny her nothing, could not even find a way to tell her that she had married a monster and that he was so unworthy of her. Perhaps Rumplestiltskin was too much of a coward to say the words, too much of a coward to drive her away. He loved her too much, wanted to keep her so badly, even if Rumplestiltskin knew that someday, somehow, he would do something wrong and she would leave him because he deserved to be left. He would not say it, would not ruin this honeymoon for her, but his fears must have shone on his face, because Belle touched his cheek gently.
"Do you love me, Rumple?" she whispered.
"Of course I do." If he was sure of nothing else, he was certain of that.
"Then believe in our love as I do," she begged him, and Rumplestiltskin felt his heart break a little.
"I do," he promised. "I only—I only think I am unworthy of you."
"You silly man—"
"I'm not a man."
"You are right now," Belle countered, looking at him pointedly.
"I…"
Belle cut him off with a kiss, and Rumplestiltskin could not help wrapping his arms around her as she moved against him. How was it that she could restore his self-worth with a smile? Milah had made him feel lower than dirt, Cora had made the darkness inside him rage, but Belle gave him peace. She made him feel like he truly was a man again, like he was not a monster who did not deserve to find his lost child. "You make me stronger," he whispered without meaning to say the words aloud. "You make me want to be better than I am."
"You don't give yourself enough credit," his wife—his wife!—told him gently, her hands cupping his face.
"I don't know how to be what you need me to be, Belle," Rumplestiltskin admitted. "There is too much darkness in me."
"Then let me be your light," she replied, kissing him again, and Rumplestiltskin lost himself in her embrace.
November 14, 2011
Monday morning's first visitor to the library was a deputy sheriff, but not the one that Lacey hated to see. She'd spent another weekend at home alone with Renee, avoiding calls from Tony and refusing to try to call Gold again. It was one thing for him to try to avoid her to keep her safe; she might not agree with his assessment of the situation, but at least that showed he cared. Treating her like unwanted trash in public was another matter entirely. If he missed her that much, he could call her. Lacey had enough pride to ignore him until he did, no matter how much she missed him.
That meant Emma Swan's presence was a very welcome distraction, and Lacey smiled in greeting as she rose from behind the circulation desk. "Deputy Swan. Welcome to the Storybrooke Library."
"Thanks. But call me, Emma, please. Titles are…weird."
"Lacey." Emma seemed like a breath of fresh air in Storybrooke, and reminded Lacey of something she couldn't quite remember. "Is there something I can help you with? Are you looking for a book?"
"Information on one, actually," the blonde woman replied, looking a little uneasy.
"Well, you've come to the right place."
"Yeah, I figured." Emma smiled slightly, glancing around as if to make sure the library was still empty. "I wanted to know where you got the fairy tale book you, uh, didn't give back to Henry."
Lacey had to take a deep breath to steady herself. Exactly one week later, she still remembered the mayor's threats, and although she hadn't stopped Henry from taking the book out again, Lacey really hoped that the boy was as good at keeping it from his grandmother as he seemed to think he'd be. Still, Emma had already faced down the mayor once, and Lacey knew she wouldn't go running to Cora about it. So she answered honestly:
"I don't know exactly. It just kind of showed up one day, so I read it. Henry had been here a lot, looking for answers on why Storybrooke is so different, and he's always been such a lonely boy. I thought he could use something a little, well, magical, so I gave it to him."
In hindsight, Lacey wasn't sure why giving the book to Henry had felt so right, but it had, and she'd not regretted it.
"What do you mean 'showed up'? Didn't you order it?"
"Oh, no. I would have remembered that," she answered. "That book isn't in any publisher's catalogue. Trust me, I've tried to find another copy."
"Huh," Emma replied. "Isn't that weird?"
"Very," Lacey assured her, and watched a peculiar look cross Emma Swan's face.
4 Years Before the Curse
"Can I ask you something, Rumple?" Belle asked as they continued to lie in bed together. A servant from the rented cottage had brought them food while they continued shamelessly abed. Her new husband was passionate and uncertain in turns, seemingly unable to accept that she could possibly love him the way he loved her. Belle did her best to reassure him, and thought she had for now, but she knew that Rumplestiltskin's past—what little of it he had shared with her—would always haunt him. So Belle would do her best to distract him.
"Of course, sweetheart."
Every time he called her that, an excited chill ran down Belle's spine. The love in his voice was unmistakable, and she knew in her soul that Rumplestiltskin had never looked at another woman with such love in his eyes. When she had returned to the Dark Castle three months earlier, Belle had no idea what was going to happen. She had known she loved him then, but had not been certain Rumplestiltskin could love. But in those months, Rumplestiltskin had so utterly proved her wrong. He was shy, hesitant, and often difficult, but Belle knew that he loved her from the very bottom of his heart. And he was worth fighting for.
"When we return home, will we be able to…" Her courage failing her, Belle sucked in a deep breath, trying to find words to ask her question and going bright red instead.
"Make love?" Rumplestiltskin asked, and although Belle could hear the amusement in his voice, she was so glad that he did not laugh at her.
"Yes," she admitted. "Will we? I mean, with your curse…?"
"Of course we will," her husband replied. "It's True Love's kiss, my dear, not anything else. So long as we do not kiss, we will be fine."
"Good." The next words came in a rush; Belle felt herself blushing madly. "I always wanted to know if you had those scales all over."
Now he did laugh, but it was a joyous sound, full of love and enough to make Belle's stomach flutter. So she kissed him again, promising herself she would get her fill of doing so now. Her relationship with Rumplestiltskin might be unorthodox once they left Amorveria, but Belle loved him no less for that, and she would make their marriage work in whatever form it took.
"Why did I see you leaving the mayor's house late last night?" Emma asked him, and although her tone was obviously meant to be casual, Graham heard the edge in it.
It was not the question he had expected upon walking into work that morning, though, so he missed a step and asked: "What?"
"Last night. I was driving by and saw you leaving the mayor's house at…eight-ish? Something like that, anyway. Why were you there so late? You two playing late-night chess or something?"
"No, um, I…" He wanted to tell her, he really did. But the words would not come. Graham had no idea why he continued to do Cora's bidding the way he did, or what it was that made him keep going to her when she called. Something inside Graham always made him do as he was told, made him obey Cora even when he knew that to do so was wrong.
"Tell me you aren't sleeping with her," Emma said next, and Graham wheeled around to face her, horrified.
"No! Definitely not," he snapped.
Or at least he hadn't the night before. Graham had slept with the mayor a few times—again, not for reasons he could understand—but it hadn't happened lately, and he had promised himself that he would never do it again. He wasn't entirely sure what it was he felt for Emma, but Graham knew that he liked her a hell of a lot more than he liked Cora. Emma was bold, brave, and engaging; she said what she thought and wasn't afraid to face the consequences. She was turning out to be a good cop, too, not corruptible or lazy like Keith. He liked spending time with her, too, and wanted to keep doing that, which meant it was really important to him that she didn't think there was anything going on between him and Cora.
"Well, that's good to know, at least," she said dryly. "What is she, like twice your age?"
"I've never asked," Graham retorted, which at least earned him a lopsided smile from Emma. Then he couldn't resist getting a dig in. "What, are you jealous?"
Asking a question like that served as a good distraction and would keep Emma from hounding him about what Cora actually did have him doing. Besides, Graham wanted to know.
"You wish," Emma shot back, but he thought he saw something in her eyes that indicated otherwise.
"What are you, twelve?" he teased her, and earned himself a smack on the shoulder as he laughed.
"I'm not sure you deserve a more mature answer."
"Oooh. That's definitely a response that befits a Sheriff's Deputy."
"You're one to talk!"
Graham dodged the next playful swing she took at him, and shot her a pleading look. "Does that mean I can't buy you dinner tonight?"
"Not if it's at Granny's, no," Emma retorted. "I'm so sick of her lasagna that I could scream, and that's tonight's special."
"You know you're starting to fit in here in town when you can recite the nightly specials," Graham agreed, and then took the plunge. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go to La Tandoor."
"You mean the nice place? Like actually going to dinner, like a date kind of dinner?" Emma asked after a moment of staring at him.
Graham shrugged awkwardly. "It could be a dinner between coworkers if you like."
Emma looked a little uncomfortable, which was actually kind of nice, given that he felt the same. She returned the shrug, though, and gave him a little smile. "Or…it could be something else. Maybe sort of like a date."
"Sort of?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Shut up."
He cocked his head at her. Reading Emma Swan was more complicated than any book he'd ever encountered. "Is that a yes?"
"Probably. Show up around seven and find out," she dared him.
"Oh, you're on."
Graham had never been able to resist a challenge, and if Emma wasn't one, well, he didn't know who in the town was.
A/N: Next up, Chapter Thirteen: "Good vs. Evil", where Graham starts to remember, Emma meets Hook, and Cora lashes out. In the past, Regina and Snow try to save King Leopold from Cora's spells.
While you're waiting, please do let me know what you think of the story now that the pieces are moving into place!