Chapter Sixty-Three—"The Price of Protection"

Tollak produced the court order, his trump card that said he had every right to take Renee away. Rumplestiltskin quickly yanked it out of his hands, his eyes flying over the pages. Unfortunately, everything was in order—he would have been surprised if it had not been, knowing how thorough Cora could be—but that didn't mean he lacked options.

"Let me see that," Emma demanded after he was done reading it, and he handed the papers over.

"You can't let them do this," Belle said to Emma, and Rumplestiltskin knew his wife was trying to hold back tears. He turned slightly to squeeze her hand, pulling his cell phone out at the same time.

Thanks to the curse, Cora was speed dial number one.

"I was wondering when you'd call, Rumple, dear," his old student purred before the phone could ring a second time, and the Dark One saw red. The temptation to send his magic winging out across Storybrooke and strangle her was almost overwhelming; the idea of doing so was far more appealing than even taking his fury out on these fools. But no. There was a better way.

"You're skating very close to the edge, dear," he growled instead.

"Oh, what? To breaking that little 'no harm' clause you bound me to?" she chuckled softly. "Taking a child from a neglectful situation is hardly harmful. I'd even say I'm helping her. And you, of course. I can't imagine you enjoy having the brat underfoot."

"What I do in my home is my business," Rumplestiltskin snapped. Sooner or later, Cora would hear—thanks to his own outburst—that he and 'Lacey' were married. She would, however, be likely to assume that he had done so for legal reasons and not because he'd been married to Belle back home. Or so he hoped, anyway.

Telling Tollak, Keith, and Emma that had not been one of his wiser moments, but he was damn sick of listening to people call Belle his whore.

"Not any more, darling," Cora replied, and he could hear her victorious smile. "Say goodbye to the cute little girl. Maybe you can console Lacey after she loses her. Won't that be fun?"

"No." His voice went ice cold. "Call off your dogs, Cora."

"No pleases, now," she purred, but he'd not intended to use that, anyway, so Rumplestiltskin snorted.

"Oh, that's not necessary at all. But you'll do it."

"Will I?"

"You owe me a favor, dear. From when I gave you a little special something to deal with your stepdaughter, remember?" If his tone went a little high-pitched and imp-like, well, Rumplestiltskin didn't care. He felt like the imp right now, fury and power rolling through his body.

"I'm not going to—"

"'Of my choosing. When I choose. No exceptions'," he quoted himself. "And I so choose. Call your dogs off. Now."

"You'll seriously waste a favor from me on your mistress' little brat?" Cora asked incredulously.

"Just do as you're told, Madam Mayor," he retorted, feeling four sets of eyes on him. Had Emma and the others not been staring, Rumplestiltskin might very well have called her something else.

"Fine," Cora snapped, and a click signified the end of the call. Rumplestiltskin turned to Tollak with a smile.

"You'll be receiving a call from the mayor shortly," he said coolly. "I suggest you listen to her before you try to do anything."

"You can't bully the mayor," Keith tried to say as Tollak stared, slack-jawed.

"Who said anything about bullying?" Rumplestiltskin smiled sweetly, and he heard Belle snort softly at his side. "No, this is me bullying. Get off my property, or I'll ask the sheriff to arrest you for trespassing."

Keith goggled. Emma tried a little too obviously not to laugh, and Tollak's phone rang.

"You gonna let him do that?" Keith demanded of his boss.

She shrugged. "It is private property."

"Bitch," Keith muttered, but he stalked off as Tollak began backing away, Cora's sharp tones more than obviously coming out of his phone. Emma waited until both were out of hearing distance between turning a glare on the Golds.

"What the hell, Gold?" she asked. "How'd you manage to make Cora back off?"

"You know very well that I collect favors, Sheriff," he replied with a shrug. "The mayor owed me one as well. It seemed the most expedient way to be rid of this…foolishness."

"The two of you are really married?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Belle burst out before Rumplestiltskin could answer. "I'm not some helpless damsel in distress, and I'm no one's plaything. I make my own choices, and this is where I choose to be."

His wife always looked utterly beautiful when she was angry, particularly when that anger wasn't aimed at him. Emma, however, didn't seem to know what to do with that.

"I…I guess I'll be going, then. Congratulations?"

"Thank you," Belle said regally, and the pair watched the sheriff, her deputy, and the odious head of Fagin's Group home leave in silence. Only then did Rumplestiltskin close the door and wrap his arms around his wife.

Neither needed to say a word. They just hung onto one another.

5 Months Before the Curse

"You have the Dark Curse," Cora said by way of greeting, striding into the Dark Castle as if she owned it. Of course, that was how Cora walked into anywhere, but there were times Rumplestiltskin thought that he should remind her that she was not the most powerful person present.

But no. He needed her, and her ego would feed overconfidence. He would need that, when the curse was cast. Cora was less impulsive and more calculating than either of her daughters, and Rumplestiltskin would need every advantage he could get. Cora was dangerous, but he had no choice but to accept that risk by using her. There were no other choices, which meant he had to watch himself now. It would not do for Cora to remember how powerful he was, not yet. She'd always had an inflated view of how easily she could manipulate him, and Rumplestiltskin would use that.

"Your point, dearie?"

Cora drew herself up proudly. "I want it."

"Do you now?" Rumplestiltskin let out a giggle, lounging back in his chair at the table in his great hall. "And why in the world would I give you the most powerful curse ever written?"

"Because you'll never cast it," his former student retorted. "For the Dark One, you have an annoying streak of morality. Otherwise, you never would have helped my obnoxious stepdaughter so often."

"I take what side is most useful to me, Cora, m'dear. It has nothing to do with morality or liking someone," he said lightly, twirling a hand to emphasize his point. "Your stepdaughter has proven useful. She had something I wanted."

"Like what?" Stepping forward, Cora leaned into the table, her face less than a foot away from his. "What interest could Snow White possibly hold for the Dark One? What could be enough to make you ally with Regina over me?"

"Careful. Whine any more pitifully and you'll start reminding me of your elder daughter," Rumplestiltskin said, and watched Cora's still-pretty face screw up in a snarl.

"Zelena has her uses," she snapped.

"Oh, of course she does. Now that Regina's not behaving terribly well, of course." He waved a hand. "Oh, worry you not. I have no intention of enlightening Zelena to tell her what a miserable mother you make, and how she's your very distant second choice. My lips are sealed."

"They'd better be!"

"Stop grandstanding and tell me why I should give you the Dark Curse," Rumplestiltskin cut in before she could start ranting. He needed to bring Cora back around to the subject at hand.

"Because you'll never cast it, and you need it to get to the Land Without Magic," Cora replied, her eyes narrowing ominously. "Under other circumstances, I might never have considered it. But now I need it, and you need me."

"So I do," he shrugged. "If this is how I aim to get to the Land Without Magic," he agreed. "There are other ways."

Cora laughed. "If any of them had worked for you, Rumple, you would already be gone. Stop playing with words and tell me what you want. I'm prepared to make a deal."

"Well, then." Rumplestiltskin rose from his chair, coming around to face Cora. She couldn't see the visions dancing before his eyes, but he could, and several of them were downright interesting. "Since, as you point out, you'll be putting me on a road I very much desire to tread, I'll deal lightly. The Dark Curse"—a flick of his fingers, and the ancient curse scroll lay in the palm of his hand—"for that necklace."

Cora's hand immediately went to her throat. "I've been wearing this for years."

"As did Queen Eva before you," he grinned. "Give up your little babble, and the curse is yours. After all, destroying Eva's daughter's happy ending is far more satisfying than wearing her necklace, isn't it?"

Cora had never been sentimental; instead, she was mercurial. So, she handed over the necklace—which, Rumplestiltskin promptly snuck back into Mary Margaret Blanchard's keeping twenty-eight years later, when the curse put it back in his shop—and took the Dark Curse in exchange. Even knowing what she did, Cora seemed to think she'd gotten the better end of that deal, but in the end, Rumplestiltskin knew she would rue her choice.

He would make sure of it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Emma demanded, striding into the mayor's office.

Cora sat behind her desk, perfectly composed and looking like she hadn't just tried to steal a child away from her loving mother. The smug smile on the mayor's face was utterly toxic, and if nothing else, it made Emma believe that she really was the Evil Queen. In the beginning, she'd thought Henry was just a kid who didn't like who didn't like his grandmother, but now she really could see what Henry saw. This terrible woman had cast a curse that doomed everyone else to misery, hadn't she? Her smirk told the tale of someone who cared about no one but herself. Even if she wasn't some Evil Queen, she certainly was a cold hearted bitch.

"Sheriff Swan, I don't recall having asked you to come here today," Cora replied innocently, but the smile was still playing over her lips.

She wasn't even trying to pretend that she hadn't just tried to ruin a pair of lives. Or three, if Gold really is Renee's father, Emma added mentally. And to make matters worse, one of those people was a three year old child. Emma could live with Cora trying to screw her over, because she was an adult. But a three year old little girl? How could even Cora do that?

"You didn't have to. You tried to take Renee French away from her mother," Emma snapped in response, stopping in front of the desk and crossing her arms.

"I tried to save a child from a dangerous situation. Surely you—as a mother—would appreciate the need for that," the mayor said serenely…until a theatric frown crossed her face. "Then again, having given up your child, perhaps you do not."

The low blow was so obvious that Emma just snorted. "You wouldn't know good parenting if it bit you in the ass," she retorted, remembering the stories of Regina's screwed up childhood from the Book.

Cora only laughed. "Well, your concern for little Renee French seems to be misplaced. After all, I called Mr. Tollak and told him to leave her alone, so she should be perfectly fine…until Gold decides she shouldn't be, of course."

That comment brought up another question entirely. "What kind of hold does Gold have over you, anyway?"

"My, you make it sound so… abominable," the older woman smiled. "No, Mr. Gold and I simply have an understanding. There's nothing more than that to it."

"Right." Try though she did, Emma couldn't see a lie in those words, and that made her wonder. Gold's protectiveness earlier had seemed totally genuine, as did his affection for Lacey French. Yet if Cora was telling the truth, what kind of understanding could they have?

What the hell kind of cat and mouse game was going on between those two?

Regina knew that she should be more careful, but she just couldn't care. Her mother had made no moves to try to regain control of her, so even if Cora's magic was working, Regina appeared to finally be free of her. Of course, she knew better than to underestimate her mother, but there were moments that Regina was too happy for caution. Once, she had lived a wonderful life like this, had been in love and free to express that love. Then, she had taken her precious weeks as Daniel's wife for granted—even though she had been determined not to at the time. Now, she would not make the same mistake. She would love Errol with her entire soul, and damn the world if people wanted to tell them they were wrong. Regina no longer cared.

That attitude, unfortunately got her into trouble when she and Errol headed back from the newly refurbished Dave's Fish and Chips. One moment, she'd been contemplating the fact that poor Graham was still paralyzed in a world were magic could heal his injuries, and the next, she'd bumped into an obnoxious red-haired woman.

"Excuse me," Regina muttered distractedly, swerving towards Errol to give the other woman space.

"I don't think so," the redhead retorted, jerking Regina up short.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said that your rudeness will not be tolerated." A poisonously sweet smile. "Regina."

"What the hell did I do to you?" she couldn't help asking, staring at this woman. "And who are you, anyway?"

"Oh, you don't know?" the other woman cooed. "Poor baby. You've always been terribly short-sighted, haven't you?"

Errol spoke up from Regina's right. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but-"

"Stay out of this, pretty boy, unless you want Regina to be shopping for another lover. Annoy me too much, and you'll meet the same fate as the last one." Blue eyes sparkled nastily, and Regina felt herself reaching for magic instinctively, only to have her preliminary feelers met in kind.

"You might want to try something more specific next time, because a vague threat is nobody's friend," Errol shot back, and Regina could have kissed him had the situation not been so dangerous.

Who was this woman? Even as the thought crossed her mind, Regina could feel the slight tendrils of the Dark Curse reaching into her, trying to adapt memories and adjust her thoughts. Now that she was awake, the curse didn't have much chance of actually affecting her, but she could glean bits of truth from it. The curse wanted her to believe that this was Chloe Zephyr, her mother's new assistant and a rich widow who had recently returned to Storybrooke after time away, polishing some unspecified political skills in Washington, D.C. But Regina remembered that this same woman had actually been a nurse just a few weeks earlier, one who'd been clingy and annoying and all over Rumplestiltskin.

Now, however, this Zephyr chick was glaring fire at Errol, so Regina stepped forward. "I don't know who or what you really are, dear, but I can tell you this: if you lay a hand on anyone I care about, I will end you. Understood?"

Zephyr giggled. "You can't stand up to me, Regina. You'll never be as powerful as I am."

"Try me."

"Oh, I will." She shrugged showily. "But not today. Your day will come—both of you."

"Pardon us while we shake in fear," Regina retorted, rolling her eyes. But she could feel the power crackling in the air, power like her own, just so much darker. Whoever Zephyr truly was, she was a powerful sorceress, and Regina really didn't want to get into a fight with Errol there. Nevermind the fact that she'd have to explain magic to him—she had the feeling that Zephyr was the type to go after bystanders first.

"You should," was the grinning answer, and then Zephyr turned away, calling over her shoulder: "Until next time!"

Regina just watched her go, wondering where in the world her mother had dug up this interesting little sociopath. She'd always known that her mother had allies (though not as many allies as servants; Cora preferred to take hearts to ensure loyalty, which didn't tend to endear her to other powerful magic users). Was this woman one of them?

"Who was that?" Errol asked quietly after Zephyr was out of earshot. "She really seems to need a dose of something to calm her down."

"That was my mother's new assistant," Regina replied drily. "She really can pick them, can't she?"

"That woman is flat-out crazy," he said, and Regina couldn't disagree.

"And dangerous," she added quietly. "Very, very dangerous."

Emma was working late, and Mary Margaret had cooked. She'd done pretty well, too; she was no gourmet, but she knew her way around the kitchen, and the stroganoff she'd made was darn tasty, if she said so herself. Of course, she'd found herself in a flurry to get done in time; with Ruby still missing, she working extra shifts at the diner, so she'd gotten home later than she wanted to. But she got dinner on the table with two minutes to spare, turning to smile at the door and waiting for her guest.

Convincing David to come over had been harder than usual, mostly because he'd been so quiet lately. But he'd seemed happy enough to have a little date once she'd talked him around, and he'd even called her that morning to ask what kind of flowers she'd like. Mary Margaret couldn't remember the last time someone other than Jefferson had bought her flowers, and gifts from her ex-boyfriend had always come with a creepy-clingy vibe, like he was awaiting payment for anything nice he gave her. Looking at their relationship through the wisdom of hindsight, Mary Margaret couldn't remember what she'd ever seen in him. Perhaps she'd been young and foolish, or lonely and miserable. Either way, she was glad he was gone. David was like the other half of her soul, her perfect match, and being with him was the best feeling in the world.

But he didn't arrive on time. Five minutes ticked past the hour, and he still wasn't there, but Mary Margaret could tell herself that he was running late. At ten past, she put the stroganoff in the microwave to keep it warm, and at fifteen after, she was starting to worry. Finally, at seven twenty, she picked up her phone and called, telling herself that she wasn't being stalker-ish. Twenty minutes late had to mean something, didn't it?

David didn't answer the first time she called, so she left a voicemail. Perhaps he was buying flowers and had hit a snag? Or maybe he'd left his phone on silent again. It wouldn't be the first time. But after thirty minutes of waiting—and knowing exactly how long it took to get from the flower shop to her loft—Mary Margaret gave in to her anxieties and called again.

"Yes?" David's voice finally answered.

"David!" she gasped, trying not to sound clingy. "I was getting worried. Are you on your way over?"

"No. Why would I be?" he asked, sounding distant.

Blinking, Mary Margaret felt her voice go small. "We…we have a date. Remember?"

How could he have forgotten? They'd talked just a few hours ago.

"Something else came up. I can't make it," David replied.

"I can postpone if you want," she said, dredging up a smile. "Emma's working until midnight, and—"

"I'm just not interested in coming over tonight, Mary Margaret," he cut her off, and she almost dropped the phone.

"Why…why not?"

"I'm just not."

Click.

Stung, all she could do was stare at the phone and wonder what in the world had happened to the man she loved so very much. This wasn't him, this wasn't David, and Mary Margaret had no idea how things had gone so wrong. She'd talked to Henry about him being distant lately, but this was entirely new, entirely different.

This was terrifying, and she had never felt more alone.

5 Months Before the Curse

He'd had to travel far from the castle to make sure that Snow couldn't interfere. David knew she felt that they shouldn't make important decisions without one another, and usually, he absolutely agreed on that. But right now, he simply had to act. She probably wouldn't agree with making another deal with Rumplestiltskin, but he had to make sure that Snow and their unborn child were protected. Cora wanted both dead, and he knew that Snow might not survive a second poisoning and miscarriage. So, straightening his spine, he called upon the Dark One, knowing in his heart that he would pay whatever price it took to keep his family safe.

"You called?" the high-pitched voice said from behind him, and David whirled around to find Rumplestiltskin sitting on an overturned tree, legs crossed and looking casually merry.

"I need your help, and I'm prepared to pay for it," the shepherd-turned-prince said firmly, squaring his shoulders.

"And what exactly is it that you want?" the imp trilled, twirling a hand.

"Snow is four months pregnant," David explained. "Cora already made her miscarry once, and she's vowed to destroy our happiness. I know that the rumors say she's going to cast some terrible curse, but I know she won't stop trying to hurt Snow more directly. Even with the protection spell keeping Cora from harming us."

"What, you don't trust my magic? Or Regina's love for your wife?" Rumplestiltskin asked, and had he not been smiling, David would have felt less of a need to snap:

"Cora has allies, and those allies can hurt Snow. Unless blood magic somehow protects us from them, too?"

"Ah, the puppy can bite!" the Dark One laughed, and waved a hand when David started to respond hotly. His tone turned serious: "You're right to be concerned for your True Love, dearie. Cora is a dangerous enemy indeed, and she'll stop at nothing to destroy the both of you. And your unborn child."

"Can you help us?" David asked, mollified by the way the Rumplestiltskin had stopped mocking him. Sometimes, he thought he had a pretty good read on the Dark One, but other times, the scaly sorcerer was a mystery to him. "Tell me your price, and I'll find a way to pay it."

"Careful making such promises, dear. It's dangerous to offer to pay anything."

The warning made David swallow hard; he knew that. Regina had warned both him and Snow multiple times about making deals with Rumplestiltskin. Always expect him to be several steps ahead of you, she'd told David. Don't be fooled by his odd appearance. He's ten times smarter than anyone else you'll ever meet, and forget that at your peril.

"I need your help," he repeated. "I'm not offering 'anything', but if the price is something I can pay, I will do so."

"Well, luckily for you, I'm not interested in ruining your life. Simply in…storing something somewhere."

"Dare I ask where?"

"It's a simple thing, really, though you'll need the help of a certain thief to hide this potion where it needs to be hidden," Rumplestiltskin replied, brandishing a vial full of glowing purple liquid.

"What is that?" David asked curiously.

"A potion made of the True Love shared between you and your dear wife," was the surprisingly straightforward answer. "Hiding it will ensure that this potion is available, even should Cora cast the most terrible of curses."

"You want me to hide it in a place of your choosing, then. Is that the best protection you can offer?"

"Oh, of course not. This is the protection I offer." A puff of red smoke filled the air, and suddenly there was a necklace in Rumplestiltskin's other hand. "This belonged to the late Queen Eva, before our dear Evil Queen stole it. So long as Snow White wears it, she and the baby she carries will come to no harm. No manner of poison can harm them, and even natural calamities will be held at bay."

That…that sounded extraordinary. More than David had even hoped for, more than he would have ever dared to ask for. But he was smart enough to know that such protection must indeed come at a very high price.

"And you want me to hide the potion in payment for that?" he asked, just to make things clear. That seemed too easy. Far too easy.

"Oh, no. Your family may very well need this someday," Rumplestiltskin replied, gesturing with the potion. "So, my price is protection for protection. I will give you the means to protect your family now—and in the future—and in return, you will offer the same to me."

"Protection?" David echoed. "For your…family?" Surely he had heard wrong.

"For someone or my choosing," the Dark One snapped, looking like he had swallowed a lemon.

"Someone you care about," he couldn't help saying, sending that there was something going on under the surface.

Rumplestiltskin's eyes narrowed, but David could see that he was actually uneasy. "Is it such a strange concept to you?"

"You love someone." Don't be fooled by his odd appearance, Regina had said.

"Mere flickers of light in an ocean of darkness," was the dismissive response, but David thought there was a warmth in the strange eyes. However, the look vanished quickly, replaced by the hard-edged exterior that hid…what? "Now. Will you take the deal or not, dearie? I've other places to be if the answer is no."

"I'll hide the potion," David agreed. "And I will exchange your protection for my family for mine of whomever you choose, so long as it lays within my power to do so."

Somehow, he had the feeling that he would not regret that last promise, despite the fact that David knew being specific was the key to making a safe deal with the Dark One. But the flicker of, well, humanity, in Rumplestiltskin's eyes gave David hope. Whomever Rumplestiltskin wanted to protect, David had a feeling that he would not object to their safety.

"Excellent! Now, here's what you have to do…"

Killian Jones was many things, but he was not a man to pass up a golden opportunity like this. Oh, he had a few qualms of conscience, but he had tried to save the lass, to give her the chance for a better life. He'd not hurt the little girl, of course—he was no monster—but Lacey French was fair game. She'd chosen to stay with the demon, and even if she was cursed to do so (which Cora insisted she was not, and Cora would know), the curse was weak enough now that she should have been able to leave him.

Some women, however, were simply drawn to darkness and to power. Killian knew that from experience, and he sometimes wondered what that meant about the type of person Lacey French really was. The curse had made her nice, quiet, and unassuming. But who had she been back home? He had no idea, but any woman whose true self wanted the Dark One was one whom Killian had no qualms about harming. Besides which, Rumplestiltskin was awake and chose to remain with this woman. That told Killian that the demon had to have some feelings for her. Whatever kind of feelings he was capable of having, anyway.

Part of him felt guilty, but Killian pushed that aside. He couldn't kill Rumplestiltskin now, not with magic in Storybrooke. He'd need the damn dagger for that, and perhaps this was an opportunity to find it. Gold's little lover might just know where it was, and, well, he'd spare her life if she told him. Otherwise, he'd hurt the Dark One however he could. He took Milah from me. Perhaps I owe him a return favor, the pirate thought to himself, watching the young woman as she walked into the ruins of the Storybrooke Free Public Library. And now is my chance.

She missed the library. Ever since the fire, the building had been a burned out shell—or at least it had until someone had finally convinced the mayor's office to start rebuilding Storybrooke's most distinctive landmark. Rumple had told her that it had come up in the last City Council meeting, brought up by—of all people—Judge Herman. Until recently, Judge Herman had been so firmly in Cora's pocket that everyone in town wondered how he managed to breathe in there, but like many others, he was starting to grow more independent. King Francis had been open-minded enough to let Thomas marry Ella back home, Belle knew, and although she bore a bit of a grudge at that family for having conspired to lock her husband up, she also knew that Rumplestiltskin had done his damnedest to encourage that. So, in the end, she supposed she would simply be grateful that Judge Herman had managed to encourage the council to vote for reconstruction.

Now, one month after work had commenced, the library was starting to look a bit like itself again. The back of the library actually had survived the fire, albeit with lots of smoke and water damage. Her own former apartment had been thoroughly baked, although some of the old furnishings had been recognizable before the cleaning crews went through. Belle was terribly grateful that Dove had dug through the rubble (in the dark, no doubt) to find the few things that truly mattered. Because of that—not to mention how much time had passed—there was no reason for her to go back, not really.

Save for the memories.

This was the apartment were Lacey had first introduced Gold to Renee. This was the place where Gold had babysat Renee when Lacey had been sick as a dog, sitting through three run-throughs of Beauty and the Beast and cooking soup that Lacey promptly threw up all over him. This apartment had been part of a romance that she, as Lacey, had never known was True Love, yet had been so very real to her under the curse. Lacey had been so very miserable most of the time; Gold had been the sole ray of light in her life. In hindsight, it was funny that Belle, who was supposedly the 'better' one in their marriage, would feel that way about Gold, underneath whom the Dark One had slumbered. Yet it was true. Gold had made Lacey's life livable, had given her joy when she had only had her beloved daughter. Her father had abandoned her, both before and during the curse. So far as Lacey knew, there had been no one to turn to…except Gold.

So, yes, perhaps she missed her old apartment almost as much as she missed the library. Of course, she mourned the library more; all those books had been burned, and for what? So Cora could try to kill Henry, and eliminate a rival at the same time? Belle was hardly the vengeful sort, but she was prepared to make a giant exception for Cora. The woman had been willing to kill two children, had hurt Rumple for years, and for what? Power? Belle knew better than most how seductive power could be—she was married to a man who sometimes struggled with his own burning need for more and more power—but she also knew that power was nothing without someone to share it with. Cora had made her own bed, and had made her own choices, and when she faced the consequences for them, Belle would not weep.

"Now that's being cheerful," she muttered to herself, picking her way out of the ruins of her old life and heading towards the clock tower. There was a framework in place already, the barest outline of a new tower to replace the old one. She thought it seemed like the new one would be a tad taller than the previous tower, but perhaps that was just her imagination. She climbed the stairs cautiously; they seemed sturdy enough, and Belle was curious. There wasn't a roof yet, but the day was bright and clear, with a slight crispness to the air that hinted at spring coming.

Still, the view out on a late afternoon Storybrooke was lovely. Pausing at the top, Belle looked out across main street, smiling when her eyes landed on the shop where she knew her husband and daughter were. The rest town was growing more and more lively, too, more likely to change and to grow, as the curse weakened, and Belle loved watching people out and about. They were becoming themselves, and it was—

A creaking noise made Belle turn her head, and, much to her surprise, she spotted another person coming up the stairs. She hadn't thought anyone else was interested in the library, but perhaps the fact that one of Storybrooke's richer residents seemed curious was a good sign.

"Captain O'Malley," Belle greeted the newcomer as cheerfully as she could, careful to use his cursed name. She hadn't appreciated his trying to pull her away from Rumple the last time they'd talked, and she knew how the pirate hated Rumplestiltskin, but that didn't mean she had to be rude.

"Miss French," he replied in that old world fashion that he seemed to think was charming, picking his way across the uneven floor towards her.

"What brings you up here?"

"I thought the view would be lovely," Hook replied, but Belle caught an undercurrent of something else in his tone.

"I used to love coming up here," she said instead of mentioning that. "After hours, of course. Renee loved watching the clock, even when it didn't work."

A slight smile flicked across the pirate's face, one Belle actually thought was genuine. Then he asked: "Your daughter isn't here with you now, is she?"

"Oh, no. I wouldn't bring her to a construction site, even if she would think it lots of fun," Belle chuckled, but the suddenly vicious expression on his face made her freeze. "Is something…wrong?"

"Oh, no, love. We just need to have a chat, and I'd hate for your daughter to be hurt."

Belle's blood ran cold. And what would you say if you knew she was Rumplestiltskin's daughter? Would your opinion change then? she didn't ask. But she had to be careful. She'd somehow been pulled into a centuries'-old feud, and Rumple had warned her that Hook might try to hurt her. She hadn't wanted to believe him at the time, but now, looking at the expression on the pirate's face…

"What kind of chat?" she asked as calmly as she could, squaring her shoulders and bringing her chin up. Sometimes she hated being short. It meant she had to look up to everyone, even in heels.

"There's a certain object I'm looking for. It's an antique dagger, very distinctive. Kind of wavy and with writing on it," he replied, clearly trying to sound earnest. "It was stolen from me some time ago, and I have reason to believe that the thief sold it to Mr. Gold. Have you seen it?"

"Surely you should ask Mr. Gold about that," Belle said quietly, her heart pounding in her ears. How did Hook know about the dagger? And did he know what it could do? Obviously, he didn't think she knew anything about it; Hook thought she was still Lacey French, clueless about the magic that owned her husband's soul. But the fact that he was asking about the dagger at all was terrifying.

"I'm asking you."

"I…I don't work in the shop these days. If it's there, I haven't noticed it," she answered carefully.

"And what about elsewhere?" Hook pressed. "You live with Gold. Surely you've seen something."

"I really think you should ask Mr. Gold if you're looking for some lost item of yours," Belle replied more forcefully. After all, she knew he wouldn't. "I'm hardly an expert in antiques, and—"

The backhand caught her completely by surprise, and Belle stumbled back in shock before she could even register the pain in her face. Then the fire exploded in her right cheek, sharp and stinging, and for a moment, all Belle could to was stare at the pirate. He'd hit her. So much for his gentlemanly manners!

"Does that make you feel better?" she demanded furiously. "Hitting someone because you don't like the answers you've gotten?"

"I don't like useless lies, lass," Hook snarled back. "So either tell me the truth, or—"

"Or what?" Belle cut him off, stepping closer to him—and also closer to the stairs leading downwards. She wasn't a fool, and was bound to lose any physical fight. But she was willing to bet she could outrun him if she had to. "You'll hit me again?"

"I can do far worse than that," he growled. "Just tell me what I want to know, and no one needs to get hurt."

"I don't have to tell you anything," Belle shot back. "And what are you going to do, kill me in the half-finished clock tower with half the town as a witness? I'll scream, and people will notice."

Hook paused, seeming to realize exactly how right she was. The clock tower only had three of four walls complete; the last one was just a framework, and easy to see through. If Belle screamed, heads on the street below would turn, and then where would the pirate be? For a moment, she actually thought that common sense and self-preservation would get through to him, that he'd decide to save his vendetta for another day. And then Hook lunged towards her.

Belle bolted.

High heels were not the best for running in, particularly over uneven terrain like a construction site. But she'd waded through worse, and Belle was determined. Swerving right to dodge around the pirate, she ducked behind a ladder and rushed for the stairs. Heavy footsteps pounded behind her as Hook twisted around to give chase, but Belle managed to reach the stairs first. She took them two at a time, knowing that if she could get to the street, he wouldn't dare continue chasing her. But it was a long stairway, rickety and temporary, and the stairs themselves started shaking hard when Hook rushed down them behind her. Belle contemplated screaming, but she feared calling for help would only slow her down, so she concentrated on not tripping on the stairs with her heels, and going as fast as she could.

She didn't miss a step, but the third step on the second flight gave way when Belle put her foot down. Flailing for the railing, Belle managed to catch herself for a moment before the fourth step collapsed, too, sending her legs crashing through while she clung to the railing for dear life. But her grip wasn't good enough, and although she heard Hook yelling her cursed name, her hands were slipping already.

Belle fell through the stairs with a scream, crashing through the plywood framework of the clock tower to the ground a floor below.

A/N: Don't hate me too much for another cliffhanger! And Hook fans, don't despair. He's trying very hard to be a villain here, but he's no longer very comfortable in the role.

Next up: Chapter Sixty-Four—"Revelations," in which Belle is found, David continues to act inexplicably, Emma learns about magic, and Cora formally introduces her daughters to one another. Back in the past, Charming fesses up to Snow about the deal he made and Zelena pays Daniel a visit.

Also, the winner of the word count contest has been notified, and we'll find out if they want to share their spoiler or not. :)