Chapter Sixty—"Long Kept Secrets"
This was ridiculous.
Regina knew that she shouldn't be spying on the man who probably qualified as her oldest friend (disjointed though their friendship could be), but since the bastard refused to answer her questions, what choice did she have? Rumplestiltskin was as slippery as water was wet, and his seeming inactivity lately couldn't be anything other than an act. She was reasonably certain that he wouldn't work with her mother, but she hadn't expected to wake up and find them sleeping together, either. And now he was keeping his 'maid' on the side! What was it about that man? Her mother wanted him—had for years, even back when he was scaly and dark, after she'd dropped him like a rock for another man—and now Lacey French was into him, too.
Personally, Regina didn't understand the attraction.
She did, however, know that there were plenty of mirrored surfaces within Gold's shop to use to spy on the pair, and when she'd spotted Lacey French heading into the shop that Monday, Regina discretely teleported herself home and pulled out a mirror. Mirror magic had always been one of her specialties, and although she knew that Rumplestiltskin kept most of the mirrors in the Dark Castle covered just for this reason, he didn't seem to have done the same thing in Storybrooke yet. Regina supposed that getting beaten half to death probably made you forget a few things, particularly when you were busy figuring out how to send your former (current?) maid off to bring magic to save your life. She hadn't asked him what lie he'd fed Lacey about that, or how he'd convinced a thoroughly cursed woman to bring magic to Storybrooke. But it really was starting to become important.
Screw his privacy. Rumple had been the one who taught her how to spy on people using mirrors, anyway. If he'd forgotten those lessons, Regina had not, and she had a curse to get broken and a mother to defeat. She'd spy on him a thousand times over if the wily bastard wouldn't tell her the truth! So, with that thought, Regina flipped her hand mirror over, and focused on Gold's shop.
"I brought a picnic," Belle called into the back room cheerfully. She'd heard her husband's muffled 'be there in a minute' when she'd opened the front door, but no one else was in the shop, so Belle felt free to act like herself.
Besides, Renee (who was very nearly Gabrielle these days) was off at Errol Forrester's playing with young Jamie. That gave Belle a couple of hours to have lunch with Rumplestiltskin before she picked the pair up for time at the playground, and she meant to make good use of it.
"Why ever would you do that?" Rumplestiltskin asked, coming out of the back with a puzzled expression on his face. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course."
Grinning, Belle slipped behind the counter to kiss him on the cheek. "I have an ulterior motive, of course."
"Do you now?"
"Yep." She put her picnic basket down and batted her eyes at him, watching Rumple lick his lips. He really was feeling better, and Belle knew it wasn't just because he was finished healing himself. Magic made him feel safer, particularly since Cora couldn't find a way to abuse him when he had more power than she did.
"Are you going to share this 'ulterior motive' with me?" he asked when she didn't volunteer more.
"Nope. Not telling," she retorted cheekily, reaching into the basket. "But I did bring some of Granny's best chocolate cake."
"Sweetheart, I'm already in love with you, and you already know I'll give you the world. What could positively make you feel the need to bribe me with that?" Rumplestiltskin sounded wary, now, and with good reason. She tried not to overindulge his sweet tooth, after all (particularly since his very human teeth looked way healthier here than the rotted ones in the Enchanted Forest had!), and Belle usually didn't encourage him to eat that absolutely succulent and sugar-filled cake, no matter how good it tasted.
"You'll have to wait and find out," Belle tried to say mysteriously, starting to put food out on the counter. Rumple helped her automatically, pulling out the sandwiches and fries—Belle had an inordinate weakness for fries that almost matched her husband's for chocolate—as she pulled out a jug of iced tea and cups. He did, however, shoot her a dirty look, which Belle countered with a smile. "Patience is a virtue, Rumple," she teased him.
That only made him snort, but his frown vanished when Belle wrapped her arms around Rumplestiltskin's neck and kissed him soundly.
"Your idea of entertainment sometimes leaves a bit to be desired, my dear," he grumbled, but Belle could see that he was having a hard time staying grouchy.
"Like your wardrobe, you mean?" she shot back, deciding to take the opening while she had it.
"Beg pardon?" Rumplestiltskin stared at her with confusion. "Is there…a problem with my suit?"
His expression was almost comically lost as he glanced down at his immaculately tailored (and oh-so-expensive) black suit. Today he was wearing the blue shirt Belle loved, complete with a darker blue tie and matching pocket square, and he looked quite wonderful, truth be told. There was also nothing wrong with his always perfect attire…except for one thing. Confused brown eyes looked back up at her, and Belle realized that she couldn't keep this up for long. Those eyes did her in every time, so she took pity on him.
"There's no problem with your suit," she reassured her husband, leaning in to drop a kiss on his nose as he stared at her, mystified. "But I miss the leather pants. They'd make everything better."
"You…you what?" he managed to stutter, and Belle grinned.
"I did sneak them into the chest that came over," she replied. "Remember?"
"I saw them, yes, but…"
"I miss them," she said simply, letting her right hand drift down his left side to land on his hip, caressing him lightly through the fabric. "I miss the way they feel, the way they smell. I liked you in leather."
Yes, Rumplestiltskin's pupils had dilated just a little bit, particularly if he was remembering the same kind of nights she was.
"Are you trying to bribe me into wearing them, sweetheart?" he finally managed to say, sounding a little hoarse. She giggled.
"I knew you were smart."
"Belle," Rumplestiltskin all but growled, but cut off whatever complaint he was going to voice when she kissed him again.
"Is it working?" she whispered breathlessly in his ear.
"Only if you're willing to wear the dress I bought you in Agrabah," he replied immediately, and Belle blinked.
"I'm not sure it has enough material to be properly called a dress, you know," she pointed out, remembering the gold and blue outfit from a trip early in their courtship. Still, wasn't exactly complaining. "But it's a deal. Sealed with chocolate cake."
Rumplestiltskin laughed, and the two reluctantly broke apart after another deep kiss to eat their picnic lunch. All the while, Belle started planning. It was good to have magic here in Storybrooke, after all. She'd never have asked Rumplestiltskin to put those leather pants on while he had that horrible limp, but now things were different. Cora's hold on her husband had weakened, and even with the fate of Storybrooke hanging in the balance, they could afford a little happiness.
August had been gone for six days, and Emma was starting to worry. She'd never bothered to get his cell number when trucking over to Granny's to find him had been so easy, and now the fact that Ruby was missing, too, was starting to set her teeth on edge. One nomadic author wandering off was easy to swallow, but the fact that Ruby had also gone missing—apparently two days after August—was one too many coincidences for her tastes. Emma was hesitant to lay the blame at Cora's door for the dual disappearances, despite what Regina and Henry kept saying, but suspicion was definitely in order. Even if Cora isn't involved, she thought grimly, heading up the stairs with a key to August's room in hand. Granny had been a bit hesitant to hand it over, but the old woman was worried about Ruby, which meant she cooperated in the end.
Footsteps behind her made her whirl around, coming to face a startled ten year old who looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Henry! What are you doing here?"
"I came to be your lookout," her kid replied with a grin. "Don't you need one if you're going to break into someone's room?"
"I'm not breaking in," Emma replied, rolling her eyes. "I have a key."
"Oh." He looked disappointed, and Emma resisted the urge to shake this son she'd never expected to meet—or to care about so much. "Can I come along, anyway?"
"This is a police investigation."
"You'd have a warrant if it was, and I don't see one," the too-smart boy pointed out, and Emma sighed.
"Okay, fine. So it isn't official. That doesn't mean you should touch anything, all right?" She tried not to groan. Chasing Henry off would take longer than she had before Granny wanted the key back, and besides, the kid was clever. He might spot something.
Henry's smile could have powered the entire town for a week. "Okay!"
"I'm going crazy," Emma muttered to herself, shaking her head as she unlocked the door. "Absolutely crazy."
"No, you aren't," Henry corrected her. "You're just starting to believe." Then his smile faded a little. "Do you think that the Evil Queen might have taken August and Ruby?"
"I doubt it's that simple, kid," she replied as they stepped inside. "August left on Valentine's Day, and Ruby disappeared two days after that. August I can see. He keeps talking about the curse and subtle isn't exactly his middle name, but what could the Evil Queen have against Ruby?"
"She bit her when she was a werewolf," he answered immediately. Just what Regina said. Did he have the Book memorized or something? "Back in the Enchanted Forest."
"Great."
The room was messy, with the bed half made and August's typewriter on the desk. Its box was empty and laid open next to the chair, looking as if August had just wandered off for a few minutes. The closet was wide open, and most of August's clothes seemed to be present, though his wardrobe really did seem to consist of worn jeans and shirts. His leather jacket was gone, but since people had seen him leaving town on his motorcycle, that wasn't a surprise. Nor was the lack of a helmet. There was an open pack of Storybrooke postcards on the desk, next to an old-fashioned looking fountain pen, but other than that, there was nothing remarkable. Just a big stack of papers, some of which looked scribbled on while others looked like drawings.
One of those drawings, however, stood out a bit, and Emma stepped over to the desk to take a closer look while Henry crouched to look under the bed. It was an odd line drawing of a wavy knife, simple and done only in black ink. Emma would have put it aside had the lengthy name on the blade not triggered her memory—wasn't 'Rumplestiltskin' in the Book?
"Henry, come take a look at this," she called, staring at the drawing. Her son was by her side in a flash.
"Oh, wow. That's cool," he said immediately, and Emma wondered how much of that was just a ten year old boy's innate love for shiny weapons.
"Isn't this Rumplestiltskin guy in your book?" she asked.
"Yeah, and that's the dagger! There isn't a picture of it in the Book."
He said that like she was supposed to know what it was, but Emma was drawing a blank. "Care to explain?"
"It's mentioned in one of the stories," Henry replied a trifle impatiently. "It's the Dark One's weapon. Rumplestiltskin uses it to kill the old Dark One and get his powers, but it all kind of goes wrong and he winds up a little crazy and really dark. It's in the story with Baelfire and the Blue Fairy."
"So…why would August have a picture of something that isn't in the Book?" Emma wondered.
"I dunno, but—" Cutting off, her son twisted to look up at her with huge eyes. "Emma, this is bad. This is huge. If the Dark One is here, and there's magic, he's more dangerous than the Evil Queen! I mean, sometimes he was on the heroes' side, but if he's allied with Cora, everyone is in trouble when he wakes up."
Blinking, Emma tried very hard to keep up with that logic. She sort of remembered Rumplestiltskin's role in her parents' story, but truth be told, she hadn't been paying much attention to that. "Huh?"
"He shouldn't be here," Henry stressed. "The cell they put him in for trying to steal Cinderella's child should have held him and kept him there when everyone else was taken away. But if he is here, that could be really bad. We need to tell Mom."
"Well, let's go find her, then," Emma replied, picking up the drawing. She folded the paper and slipped it in her back pocket, figuring that she could apologize to August for the petty theft. However, doubting the sudden danger Henry spoke of never entered her mind, even if they were talking about magic and evil beings.
Some other bit of knowledge, however, lurked at the edge of her consciousness, waiting to get out and draw the parallels between a monster who tried to steal a child and a man who had done a deal for one. But Emma wasn't ready to get there. Not yet.
The Dark One was having a picnicin his shop. Of all things, a picnic? Regina wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, to shake her head in disbelief and tell herself that Rumple must have put some spell on her mirror to show her the most ridiculous things, but she knew he hadn't. She'd wound up transfixed by that odd little exchange, part of her wanting to laugh at Rumple's sappy grumpiness and part of her envious at the ease with which he interacted with his 'maid'. Regina had finally forced herself to look away when they'd started their picnic with the cake, trying to ignore the softness she saw in Rumplestiltskin's eyes every time he looked at Lacey French.
But she couldn't. That conversation had been odd in too many ways that only led to one conclusion…and Rumplestiltskin had called Lacey by another name. That made all of her previous assumptions blow right the hell up, and she found her feet carrying her towards the pawn shop before Regina could even make up her mind to go there. Rumplestiltskin had avoided answering her questions last time, but not today. There was too much at stake. So, she burst into the shop and started talking before she even bothered to verify that Rumplestiltskin was alone.
Thankfully, he was.
"I've had it," she snapped. "I'm done with your excuses and I want to know what the hell is going on between you and your damn maid. Is she awake?"
"Hello to you, too, Regina," Rumplestiltskin replied with Gold's inscrutable calm.
"Don't you 'hello' me, Rumplestiltskin," Regina snarled, stalking up to the counter to look him in the face. "I just watched your nauseating little picnic with the wench through a mirror, so don't you dare tell me that she's just your maid. She's got you wrapped around her little finger!"
Her outburst made him blink. "Is there a question in that tirade, dear?"
"Yes!" With an effort, Regina managed to stop her shout at the one word and then lower her voice. A little. "Who the hell is she, and does she remember?" she demanded.
"She's—"
"If you say your maid one more time, I swear I will punch you right in the face," Regina spat.
"I think you've been spending too much time around Emma Swan," he replied, and the bastard was starting to quirk a smile, damn him.
Regina, however, was not going to put up with his games today. "Rumple!"
"Fine, then," Rumplestiltskin spoke evenly. "You want information, and I want something in return. You resist the urge to tell the Savior anything about who I really am, and I'll answer your questions. Truthfully, even."
That proposal made Regina pause to study her old teacher, her mind whirling. So far, she'd not told Emma about Mr. Gold's identity, but she'd always intended to. Self-preservation had just kept her from mentioning it, because how do you explain that your oldest friend and mentor was ostensibly the darkest sorcerer of them all? Snow had never understood—and never asked about—the depth of her relationship with Rumplestiltskin, but Regina knew that Storybrooke was too small to hide it for long. Still, she'd put off telling Emma…because she didn't want her niece, her friend, to think less of her.
Her eyes narrowed. "Why don't you want her to know?"
"Frankly, I'd prefer a bit of anonymity when the curse breaks, since I'm not exactly as recognizable as most," he answered. "Let's save the lynch mobs for your mother, shall we?"
It was logical reasoning, and very Rumplestiltskin. Regina had a feeling that there was more to it, but really, what did she have to lose?
"Fine," she said. "Now tell me what I want to know."
"Very well," Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Yes to your second question, and as to the first, she's my wife."
"She's your—" Shock made her cut off, and now it was Regina's turn to blink, absolutely flabbergasted. "Your—"
"Wife," he finished for her coolly. "I do believe you are familiar with the custom of marriage, even back home."
"But you're—you couldn't—you're not—" She'd been reduced to a stuttering idiot because the idea was just that ludicrous. Regina could barely wrap her mind around the idea of Rumplestiltskin in love with his maid, but could he really have married her?
"I'm not what?" Now there was a dangerous edge in Rumplestiltskin's voice, one mostly hidden by a surface layer of amusement, but not quite.
With an effort, Regina got ahold of herself. "You married your maid."
"I did." His shrug seemed to be casual, but Regina could feel something simmering beneath the surface. "About four years before the curse was cast."
"You never told me?" The words burst out before she could stop them.
"Don't feel insulted. We never told anyone." A grimace. "Well, except her father, and that did not end terribly well."
"I doubt you got the beating over her there that you did here." Again, Regina couldn't stop her big mouth, and she wanted to kick herself. "Sorry."
But Rumplestiltskin snorted. "No, it didn't quite end up like that. Though saying he was displeased might just be an understatement."
"Renee is your daughter," Regina realized suddenly, and then jerked herself up short. Could the Dark One have a child? What if Renee had been placed with Lacey—or Belle, if that was her real name—by the curse? Could she belong to someone else? Yet Rumplestiltskin doted on the girl.
"Her real name is Gabrielle," he confirmed, and yet again, Regina found herself flummoxed.
A moment passed before she could form her next thoughts into words. Rumple had said he'd answer, though, so she was damn well going to get her money's worth out of not telling Emma. "Here's what I don't get," she said slowly. "You two were together under the curse. No one was happy under the curse. How the hell did you pull that off? What kind of deal did you make with Mother?"
"Do you really think I was ever foolish enough to tell your mother I had a wife and child to protect?" Rumplestiltskin snorted, and now there was a dangerously protective edge in his voice he was obviously not hiding. "My intention was precisely the opposite. I wanted my cursed self to stay as far away from them as possible, but things didn't exactly work out as I had planned."
"That sounds like an understatement."
"Indeed." Then Rumplestiltskin turned to call towards the back of the shop. "Belle, sweetheart, why don't you come out and meet Regina now that she knows who you are?"
She could have smacked him upside the head if the consequences of doing so probably wouldn't have been being turned into a uniquely crabby frog. So, all Regina could do was cross her arms and snarl: "She's been back there the whole time?"
"Of course she has. Do you think I'm telling you anything she doesn't already know?" her old teacher drawled as Lacey French—or was she now Belle Gold?—stepped out of the back room wearing a pretty smile.
Regina hadn't ever paid much attention to the librarian, save for being grateful that Lacey had given the Book to Henry. After the fire, she'd noticed her a little more—the smaller woman had been damn brave and had saved Henry's life almost as much as Errol had. Regina liked to think that she would have reached out to her after that, but Lacey had disappeared into the maw of Gold's pink mansion, and Regina had been too busy to worry further. After all, Regina was probably the only one in town who knew Gold wouldn't hurt her. So, she'd never known her well, certainly not well enough to know when she'd woken up. Was it Emma's presence, too, that made her aware? Or had there been something else? The real answer probably didn't matter, though, and Regina wasn't quite curious enough to ask.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Regina," Belle said in her soft accent, holding out a hand. "You've always been Rumple's favorite student. He likes you more than he lets on."
"Belle," Rumplestiltskin grumbled even as Regina took the offered hand, and she decided right then and there that the intelligence and independence in Belle's answering smile was something she could like. It had been annoying when she thought the girl had been cursed into falling in love with Rumple, but if she was his wife…well, that could make her an interesting ally to have.
"Does he now?" she replied, a sly smile worming its way onto her face.
"His heart's a bit better than he'd like people to believe," the younger woman confirmed, ignoring the way her husband glared half-heartedly.
Apparently, he's used to that, Regina thought, liking the firm handshake and the way this woman refused to be cowed by Rumplestiltskin. Then again, if she married him in all his sparkly imp glory, she's got to be made of pretty stern stuff, the 'Dark Princess' decided.
"It looks like you know that better than most," she replied wryly, and then looked back at Rumplestiltskin. "So, this is the big secret, huh? You have a family to protect."
"It's not a secret I advise you to share with your mother, dear." His voice was soft, and sounded non-threatening, but Regina certainly got the hint.
"I'm not that stupid," she said bluntly. "Besides, I want to be your ally, not your enemy."
"Do you now? Even if it means I have murderous desires towards your loving mother?"
"She tried to kill my son." The words bit out of her, hard and cold. "She killed Daniel. And I know she'll kill Snow or Charming—or Emma—the first moment she thinks she can get away with it. If I have to choose between them and Mother, my family wins every time. I won't try to stop you. If she threatens my family, I'll even help."
"The offer's appreciated, though I can handle Cora." Rumplestiltskin didn't look surprised, either, the bastard.
"So, are we allies, then?" Best to have it in the open with him. If his price was first dibs on putting her mother in her grave, well…Regina might shed some tears for Cora, but her mother had made her own choices. Regina would protect those she loved above all else.
"It appears that, as usual, our interests are aligned," he replied cagily.
"Yes or no, Rumple."
"He means yes," Belle interjected, giving her husband a look. "Don't you?"
"I do," he confirmed, looking slightly abashed. Damn, Regina thought. She does have him wrapped around her little finger! Suddenly, that seemed like a good thing, so long as she could keep Belle as an ally. "Now, and when the curse breaks. I have a feeling that we'll need one another then, even if the more 'heroic' side of your family tree doesn't like me."
"I told them it was a bad idea to throw you in that cage," Regina grumbled, not missing the reference.
Much to her surprise, Rumplestiltskin laughed. "Oh, they played right into my hands on that front," he said with a casual shrug. "It gave me the access I needed and made your mother think I could be contained. Imprisonment was useful, even if it was a tad unpleasant."
Judging from the look on Belle's face, she had disagreed with him on that topic, but it was nice to see that Rumple wasn't too whipped. Even if he was still crazy.
"Well, I'm betting you don't want to repeat the experience, so unless you plan on making friends with Snow, I suppose I'm the one who's going to reassure them that you're not going to go back to stealing babies," she said dryly.
"I suppose you are."
And just like that, a deal was struck. Regina knew better than to demand specifics from him; the war they were fighting was too fluid, too fragile, to pen themselves in like that. But she knew Rumplestiltskin, and she trusted him. Her mother would be furious when she realized that her former lover had moved on—because Regina knew her mother was still hung up on him, though she'd never understood why—and that meant Rumplestiltskin would not ally with Cora. He had a family to protect, just like she did, and that would hold them together.
4 Months Before the Curse
He knew how to kill the demon. Baelfire had told him about the dagger that could slay the Dark One back in Neverland, but Cora had done nothing so far to help him acquire it. She had promised him help, had promised him vengeance, and yet Cora had not delivered. He had been back in the Enchanted Forest for two months with her damn treasure, had been trapped in her toxic little court-in-exile, and he had nothing to show for it. So he was damn well going to take what he wanted without waiting for some Evil Queen to deliver.
Those thoughts brought him to the gates of the Dark Castle, gripping the Sword of Peleus tightly in his hand. The sword was supposed to kill any magical creature, but if what Baelfire had told him was right, only that dagger could do the job. Still, the dagger had to be here in the demon's lair, didn't it? Hook had waited in town until the girl he had bribed to call upon the Dark One had promised to do so. She had plenty of reasons of her own, though Hook wasn't sure why any woman struggling through a difficult pregnancy would want to call upon a demon for help. Still, he'd given her enough money to motivate her, and the women down in Caerleon seemed willing to reassure her that the Dark One wouldn't hurt a pregnant woman. Ruthlessly pressing down his own flash of guilt—after all, Cassie had chosen to call upon the Dark One; she hadn't had to take his money—Hook eased the outer gate open.
So far as he could tell, he had to make it through three gates and then into the castle itself. Then he'd have to hunt down the dagger, but who better to find buried treasure than a pirate? The Dark One should be gone for a few hours, which gave him plenty of time to ferret out the weapon's hiding place. Then he would lay in wait for the demon and be done with this. Milah, my love, I am so close, he thought, feeling an eager chill roll down his spine. I will avenge you. Today.
The second gate opened just as quietly as the first; for a supposedly terrifying castle, the grounds were remarkably well-kept. Through the third gate he could see a pretty little garden, complete with a beautiful wall of roses off to the right. There was a large fountain in the middle, bubbling gently…and with a child's hands splashing in the water.
She was a little girl, dressed in red and yellow, and playing with two wooden boats. She was rather adorable, and probably around three, giggling and laughing with some woman who sat on the fountain's edge with a book in her hands. The woman and child were both dressed simply, like merchants, maybe…but what were they doing in the Dark One's castle? Had he stolen some other child? Again? Hook had heard tales about how the depraved demon would trade for children, but he had not expected to find a child here. A child and whatever poor woman has been stolen to care for her.
"Look! Floaties!" the little girl cried triumphantly, pointing at the boats.
"Yes, they are," the woman laughed, reaching out to push one of the boats into a circle. The little girl shrieked happily, and Hook stood transfixed, just staring at the silly little domestic scene.
They were in his way. Logically, he could tell himself that he was a pirate and such things should not slow him down. The girl was what, three? She wouldn't delay him, and he could easily knock the nanny unconscious. They were probably prisoners, so they wouldn't know anything useful, but he could easily dispose of the problem. And he should. He had time, but not much, and Hook knew that if he didn't get into the castle soon, he would never find the dagger.
But could he do that if he had to hurt a little girl to do so? What might the Dark One do to the child—and her nanny, or whatever the woman laughing with her was—if Hook somehow slipped by them. He could deal with a woman being hurt; it was distasteful, but happened frequently enough in their world. But a child? Particularly one so young? Could he live with himself if he caused that? He'd done many regrettable things during his years as a pirate, including his long years working for Pan, but Hook had always tried very hard not to harm children. Would it be his fault if the Dark One punished a child because of his actions? He couldn't be sure. Yet it wasn't his problem, was it? He was a pirate, not a philanthropist, and this child was not his responsibility. He reached for the gate, and—
"What are you doing, Gabi?" the voice that haunted his nightmares interrupted Hook's thoughts, and his head snapped around to see a familiar glittery figure reaching for the child.
Innocent little girl that she was, 'Gabi' giggled. "Floating boats!" she declared.
"Are you, now?" the demon asked, and a wave of his hand made the two boats start speeding around in the fountain, racing one another.
"Uh huh!"
Hook didn't bother to listen to the rest. He couldn't bear to see what happened once the Dark One bent to pick up the poor little girl, and he didn't want to know what would happen to her now. A proper hero, a good man, would have tried to rush in and save the girl—and probably the woman who watched over her as well—but he was no hero. He'd given up that road when he became a pirate.
Vengeance was all he had left, but he would not avenge Milah today.
Twenty-eight years later, he was still waiting. Now, however, Killian found himself again dancing attendance on the queen who had chuckled when he returned to her castle, chiding him for trying to go after the Dark One himself. Now, however, Cora sat primly in her living room with another woman…one who Killian remembered seeing before, too.
"I remember you being a lot greener," he said before he could stop himself.
Cora's red haired daughter scowled. "Yet I remember you being just this rude."
"Forgive me," Killian said quickly, noticing the way Cora's eyes narrowed. There was magic here, now. He couldn't afford to anger the queen too much; he liked his heart where it was, thank you very much. He'd always been her ally more than her servant, carefully giving Cora reasons to value his independence. He wasn't going to change that, now. Even if Cora's promises of vengeance are growing rather thin. Rumplestiltskin had magic, too, of course, but Killian had charted his course long ago. He was rather stuck, at least for now. "I meant no offense."
"You are forgiven," Zelena sniffed, probably in what she thought was a regal fashion. It just came off obnoxious.
"You called for me?" he asked, turning to Cora.
"I did. And I see the two of you remember one another. Good." Cora sat primly in an armchair, looking as if she was sitting in a throne with the court at her feet. She was dressed in a gorgeous gray suit, looking every bit the modern woman—save for the heart held idly in her left hand.
"We do," Killian answered since she seemed to be waiting. "How may I be of service?"
How he managed to get those words out without betraying his growing distaste—or was it hatred?—for Cora, Killian did not know. But he couldn't afford to offend her, not yet. Cora still had all the power in Storybrooke. She was still his best chance for vengeance. Sure, the curse might be weakening—he'd overheard enough of the Nolan child talking to assume that was happening—but that didn't mean Cora would lose her iron grip on the town. Even if Emma managed to break the curse, which Killian was not certain would happen, there was no guarantee that Emma and her allies would overcome Cora. Killian knew the queen too well to think that she was anywhere near finished, and he would remain as her ally until he was certain that doing so would not be in his best interests.
"Well, since acquainting the two of you does not seem to be required, I thought that you might join us for dinner," Cora replied.
"With a heart in your hand, Your Majesty?" he couldn't help asking.
"No. I thought I would use this first," she said easily, although Killian could see she looked distracted. "And then we shall eat."
"What do you see, Mother?" Zelena asked curiously.
"Two fools doing your sister's bidding. Regina thinks she's smarter than she is," Cora told her, her fingers drumming idly against the heart. "They think they're diverting my suspicions by becoming friends."
"Who?" Now Zelena sounded eager.
"David Nolan and Errol Forrester. One a feckless prince who always makes the wrong choices, and the other some fool who your sister thinks she can fall in love with. They're having drinks at the Rabbit Hole and trying to look innocent."
That was interesting. Regina's husband and the firefighter who had saved her son. Killian hadn't noticed the mayor's younger daughter running around with the firefighting chief, but apparently he needed to pay attention to that from here on out. He'd always had an eye for scandal and the power that came from being the one who knew what was going on when no one else did, but he'd missed this one. Cora, however, obviously had not.
Cora was, in fact, several steps ahead of Regina, although some of them were in more of a…diagonal direction. Presently, she was busy watching David Nolan and Errol Forrester have drinks together, laughing like idiots and joking like fools. Watching the pair at the bar of the Rabbit Hole certainly wasn't the manner in which she intended to spend her evening, but for the moment, she steeled herself to pay attention. The odds of nothing happening were high, but Cora had not been so successful in holding onto her power by being careless. Now that her magic was working, she knew that holding a heart gave her unique insights into what its owner was doing, and she would reap the benefits of those advantages.
As always, the queen thought to herself. Regina was still a silly girl in so many ways. She thought that doing the right thing would be rewarded, that good deeds led to good things happening to her. Cora knew better. She knew that life would give you nothing that you didn't take, and she would always take what she was owed. She would work hard and do whatever was required. Cora understood the value of hard work, which was why she was spending her valuable time watching men drink.
Then a figure entered the edge of her narrow vision through the heart, and Cora perked up. Her little puppet was back.
A/N: Wow! Thank you to everyone for the lovely reviews this last chapter—particularly to you anonymous readers who I can't send a note to. My muse is slowly trying to recover (at least it's let me write a scene and a half), so I think you're all helping pull me out of the dregs of No-Inspiration-Land.
That said, I've posted three of my six entries from this year's Rumbelle Showdown as a collection titled "Flickers of Light", and the first two are set here in the FOTS Universe. Give it a whirl if you're curious! In the meantime, whose heart do you think Cora is holding here—and what in the world has happened to Ruby?
Next up: Chapter Sixty-One—"Deals and Denials," where Henry and Emma bring the drawing to Regina, Cora corners August, Ruby wakes up from a drugged sleep, Hook brings important information to Emma, and Belle and Rumplestiltskin tie the knot in Storybrooke. Back in the past, Cruella and Ursula discuss allying with Cora.