Chapter Sixty-Six—"Cornered"
Going to work that day with a 'date' hanging over his head was the last thing Rumplestiltskin wanted to do, but he opened the shop, anyway. The only thing he wanted less than to go out with Cora was to demonstrate any type of weakness she could prey upon, so he squared his shoulders and kept to his normal schedule. He had an inventory to do, and that at least would serve as enough of a distraction to keep his mind (mostly) busy for the day. Of course, he had copies of the endless number of inventories that Gold had conducted under the curse, but Gold hadn't had any clue which objects belonged to which person. Rumplestiltskin, however, had a pretty good idea about the origins of most of the items in the shop. Or he would, once he finished connecting the dots and wrote it all down.
He was an hour into the inventory and thoroughly distracting himself when the ringing of a bell drifted in through the curtain separating the front of the shop from the back. Given that he didn't detect the sound of the door slamming open with gusto, he didn't think it was Regina. She always stormed in on the winds of fury, like a barely controlled tornado hell-bent on whatever her current fixation was. Even on her happier days, Regina was a force of nature. Whoever had arrived today, however, was not.
Rising from his crouch, Rumplestiltskin grabbed his cane and reminded himself to limp as he exited the back room. Making himself do so was harder than he'd ever expected. The anticipation of finally being rid of his fake limp was one of many reasons he could not wait for the curse to break, though at least that one was further down the list than others. Yet I am still so very ready to drop this façade, along with so many others. Playing the mildly dangerous pawnbroker is getting old. Shoving aside the curtain with his left hand, he stepped into the shop proper and stopped cold.
Zelena was standing at the counter, playing with Baelfire's leather ball. It took all of Rumplestiltskin's gargantuan self-control to stop himself from snatching the ball away from her immediately, but his hands still itched to rip it away, either physically or using magic. However, he forced himself to stop and fold his hands over his cane, greeting his former student mildly:
"Ms. Zephyr, what an unexpected surprise."
"Hello, Rumple," Zelena smiled that ingratiating smile of hers. "I thought we should have a little chat now that the cat's out of the bag."
"Did you now?" Rumplestiltskin watched his former student, watched the way her eyes were shining with pride and malice. Zelena thought she was winning, didn't she? Cora had lifted her up out of obscurity and welcomed her into her life, and Zelena was too desperate to realize what that meant. She was so certain that Cora wanted her above all others, including Regina. She couldn't see that Cora was using her like Cora used everyone else.
"Well, we were so close once," she cooed. "And I've missed you. I thought often of your…teachings while I was in Oz."
"It's a pity you didn't learn more from them, then," he replied, ignoring her attempt to imply there had ever been a relationship between them. Rumplestiltskin knew that look in Zelena's eye, the one that said she wanted him and was going to drive him insane.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
"I told you to strike out on your own and make something of yourself. Not to put yourself under someone else's thumb," Rumplestiltskin said bluntly.
"She's my mother!"
"And she's a consummate manipulator," he pointed out. "She's manipulating you, too, dear."
"I am her daughter," Zelena snapped, obviously trying for imperious and yet still coming off a little whiny. "I am involved in all her plans, and she trusts me."
"Cora doesn't trust anyone," Rumplestiltskin scoffed. Perhaps he could dredge a wedge between them. That would certainly be useful. He knew where Regina's loyalties lay, knew that they would be on the same side against Cora. Zelena, however…well, she could be useful as a wildcard, assuming he could turn her against Cora.
"And you do?" she asked straightforwardly.
"I trust where trust is earned." It was even an honest answer, but Zelena, being Zelena, took everything a step further than Rumplestiltskin meant it to go.
"How exactly might one win such intimate trust from you?" Zelena asked, leaning over the counter towards him. She was a well-built woman, and leaning forward like that definitely put her best assets on display. Rumplestiltskin, however, did his best to ignore that.
"Intimacy has nothing to do with my trust," he replied, deciding to be blunt because Zelena had never been very good at taking a hint.
"That's such a pity," she said, reaching out to stroke his arm. Pulling away, Rumplestiltskin fought to keep a scowl off of his face, but Zelena's touch reminded him of Cora's, and with that evening's 'date' hanging over him, Rumplestiltskin could not abide that. "We've always been so close."
"Not that kind of close, dearie," he snapped before he could stop himself.
Scowling, Zelena drew back, which at least allowed him to rescue Bae's ball from her grip. "What, you'd prefer some little maid?" she snarled. "Some cursed librarian? I never thought you liked your women boring, Rumple."
"What I do in my personal life is my own affair."
He had to be careful, though. Cora was bound by his 'please' not to harm Belle or Gabrielle, but Zelena was not, or at least not if Cora didn't put her up to it. Unfortunately, Zelena was perfectly capable of going after Belle on her own; jealousy was part of her nature, and she was likely to lash out. The last thing he wanted—or would allow—was for his wife or daughter to become Zelena's targets.
"She can't be that good of a bed warmer," Zelena rolled her eyes. "So, what is it about her? Is she someone who owed you something in the old world and you just want to see her face when she wakes up? I bet that will be lovely."
"I'll only tell you one more time that it isn't your business, Zelena," Rumplestiltskin said quietly, feeling his curse rage inside him, baying for Zelena's blood. Strangely enough, his curse was feeling protective—or was it possessive?—over his family today. Some days, the demon inside Rumplestiltskin wanted nothing more than to be rid of his wife and daughter, but today it wanted them. Probably because someone else wants them, too, he thought cynically.
"Oh, are we feeling possessive over the little woman?" she cooed, malicious light filling her eyes. "Perhaps I should go pay her a visit. I'm sure she'd bleed wonder—"
Power ripped out of Rumplestiltskin before he could form a coherent spell, slamming into Zelena and sending her crashing into the door. She slid down to the floor, panting and staring at him, wide-eyed and shocked. Kill her! his curse screamed. Make her bleed, make her suffer. Make her pay for the pain her mother has inflicted upon you! With an effort, he reined his magic in, calling up happy memories to drown out the surge of fury. Rumplestiltskin hadn't lost control like this in years, and a distant part of his mind knew that this was a bad sign; he was already dancing on the knife-edge, and if he couldn't control his emotions, he might just lose himself to the darkness. Frantically focusing on the smell of meat pies he remembered so delighting in as a child (because right now, using thoughts of his wife or daughter would only stoke his rage), he slowly throttled his magic back, calming the wind that had started to whip around his shop.
Meanwhile, Zelena had staggered to her feet and called a green ball of fire to her hand, stalking forward with a manic grin on her face. But Rumplestiltskin came back on balance before she could throw it, twirling a hand in the air to extinguish the flames.
"I'll destroy that little wench of yours for this!" Zelena snarled, and magic slammed into Rumplestiltskin's chest. He managed to absorb most of the blow, but it still stung, and Rumplestiltskin staggered backwards, losing his cane as it clattered to the floor. "And I'll make you pay!"
"You and what army? You're no match for the Dark One," he snorted, flicking the fingers of his right hand and bringing an invisible hand smashing down on Zelena's head. She was quick, though, and managed to twirl away from the worst of the blow.
"Mother and I will make you suffer!"
"Oh, your heartless mother who loves you so much?" Rumplestiltskin came around the counter to laugh in her face. "She'll use you and discard you, just like she does everyone else."
Darting forward, Zelena tried to shove a hand in his chest and steal his heart, but Rumplestiltskin teleported away, landing right behind her and landing a magical punch between her shoulder blades. Zelena staggered forward a few steps before she could spin around, snarling furiously and calling up two green fireballs. Rumplestiltskin, however, conjured up a miniature tornado, which whipped around Zelena and smothered both fires. Somehow, Zelena still managed to hit him with a magical blow that sent Rumplestiltskin stumbling back a step, his head snapping back so hard that his neck cracked. A deep cut sliced open his right cheek, almost all the way down to the bone, and he hissed in pain as she retorted:
"We'll see what you say about that when you're groveling before both of us!"
"How in the world do you propose to accomplish that, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin drawled, using the question—to which he was certain he had the answer, much though he was not going to allow that to happen—mask the power he was calling upon. Killing Zelena might not be the wisest course of action, but she was proving too unpredictable to survive. He just had to do it quickly and quietly, and then destroy the body so that no one found it.
"When Mother—"
His first blow hit her and knocked Zelena back, but apparently Rumplestiltskin had taught her too well. Zelena retaliated with a green fireball that came at him too fast to extinguish, forcing Rumplestiltskin to duck as he distantly noticed the tinkling of the bell on the door behind him. One of the guitars on the wall caught fire, and he barely managed to extinguish that nest of flames before they could spread. But he did, and then his left hand came up, full of sparkling black power and ready to end Zelena—
"What the hell is going on here?" a new voice demanded, and both combatants spun to face Emma Swan.
Well. That was unexpected, and at any rate, having the Savior witness him in the act of committing murder wasn't on today's agenda. Belle had been right about how he needed Emma on his side. So, Rumplestiltskin reluctantly allowed the ball of darkness in his hand to sputter out. Twirling his right hand with a flourish, he called his previously abandoned cane to him, letting Emma see the bit of showy magic. Just in case you're somehow doubting what you already saw, Miss Swan, he thought but did not say. Let's make sure you're believing, shall we?
"Oh, look. It's everyone's favorite sheriff," Zelena snarled, obviously miffed at the interruption and having no idea that her life had just been saved.
"And you're the Wicked Witch of the West. Big deal," Emma shot back, and Rumplestiltskin didn't even try to hold back his snicker.
"Maybe I just should kill you now and save everyone the annoyance of having to deal with you," Zelena retorted, clearly thrown off by Emma knowing who she was.
"Will you turn green before or after you kill me?" the sheriff inquired, and now Rumplestiltskin laughed out loud even as Zelena lunged forward, obviously ready to rip Emma's heart out.
Smoothly, he stepped in the way. Killing Emma would break the curse, but not neatly; her death would shatter it and deprive him (and Regina) of a powerful ally. No, the Savior needed to live to break the curse, particularly when they were this close. "Do run back to Mother dearest, Zelena," he said quietly. "I'm sure she might be a tad offended if you start killing people she doesn't want dead."
"I'm not done with you," Zelena snapped at him, tossing her hair and glaring. "Just you wait."
"I tremble in anticipation," Rumplestiltskin replied dryly, making Zelena huff in annoyance. She did, stalk out, shoving past Emma and leaving the shop. A moment of silence passed between the Savior and the Dark One, while Emma twisted to stare, wide-eyed, at the carnage in the shop. The place wasn't too worse for wear, but Rumplestiltskin would still have to spend the day repairing broken items and removing scorch marks from the far wall.
"What the hell were you doing?" Emma demanded.
Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "A difference of opinion between sorcerers. Nothing to be concerned about."
"That didn't look like a mere difference of opinion," the young woman retorted. "And did you say her mother is here? I didn't know the Wicked Witch of the West was supposed to have a mother."
"Ah, that's because Regina has apparently not introduced you to the latest wrinkle in her family dynamics. That was Zelena, her half-sister."
That made Emma blink, and several seconds ticked by before she finally breathed: "And there I was thinking that Henry's family tree couldn't get any more screwed up. Guess I was wrong."
"I guess that was a bad idea," Ruby said to Mirabella through gritted teeth.
"I could have told you so," the petite blonde replied. "In fact, I did tell you."
"I know," the former waitress sighed. "But I had to try."
"Running never works," Mirabella said quietly, glancing towards the door that Mr. Horn and the others had disappeared through. "All they'll do is hurt you."
"At least they can't sell me now," Ruby snarled, wishing she had an appropriate outlet for her anger. But, no, all she'd gotten was a beating instead of freedom like she'd wanted, and now her legs ached. She was pretty sure that both her ankles were sprained, but at least that meant she was out of this ridiculous Basement game for now.
Mirabella, however, gave her a sad smile. "You don't have to be able to walk to work, you know."
Ruby could only stare.
Emma left the pawnshop and headed over to Regina's, using the walk to clear her head. Seeing magic—first from Regina and then from Gold—had been one thing, but walking into the middle of some damn sorcerers' duel was another entirely. She'd started believing, actually believing, and that meant that Emma had to recognize when she was in over her head. She had a pretty good grip on the real world, but magic was a wildcard she knew nothing about. Regina, however, knew plenty about it, so Emma went to her.
She'd stopped knocking weeks ago, which was how she wandered in to find Regina reading the paper with a scowl.
"Anything interesting?" she asked.
"No," her friend/aunt grumbled. "Just a whole lot of boredom. I was so glad to be free of Mother when I quit my job, but somehow I never figured out how long days were when you have nothing to do." Regina gestured irritably at the spotless kitchen. "I could clean, but then what would the maid do? And I've already baked enough goodies to fill up three of Henry's school bake sales."
"Well, is me picking your brain entertaining enough?" Emma asked, sliding into the chair across from her.
"Anything is better than this rubbish comics section," the older woman replied feelingly.
"I just walked in on Gold and Chloe Zephyr—who is apparently your sister?—trying to kill one another."
"What?" That made Regina sit up straight. "Did he do it?"
"Regina!"
"What? I never knew her before she came here with Mother a few days ago and wanted to rip Henry's heart out," was the snappish reply. "Her real name's Zelena, by the way. But if she picked a fight with Gold, she deserves what she gets."
"She seemed alive enough when she left," Emma replied, filing the name away. Gold had called her that, too. Zelena. She'd always thought that the Wicked Witch of the West was supposed to be named Elphaba.
"Pity."
"You don't mean that," she said, seeing the conflict on Regina's face. Regina only shrugged in response, so she continued: "I wanted to ask you about Gold."
"What, because he's so good at sharing information about himself?"
Now it was Emma's turn to shrug. "Well, I know he's actually married to Lacey, who says her name is Belle and that she remembers everything, too. And Henry says he's the Beast, but even when you read the Beauty and the Beast story in Henry's book, it doesn't say much about him and magic. It says something about some curse taking root in him, but it really doesn't say that he's the kind of guy who can go toe to toe with the Wicked Witch of the West. Henry's guessing that he's someone else, too, but he has no idea who. I think you do."
"Is there a question in there?" Regina asked, and now she looked wary.
"Yeah, an obvious one. Who the hell is he?"
Regina looked away. "I…I can't tell you that."
"Why the hell not?" Emma asked.
"Honestly? I made a deal with him," was the answer. "And I'm not going to break that, so you're going to have to ask him any questions you've got yourself. Though you should be able to figure it out."
"That's really helpful," she said dryly. If Emma could have figured it out herself, she would have done so already, thank you very much. And now her reliable source of information seemed to have dried right up. The look on Regina's face said that she wasn't going to volunteer any more information, either, which just made Emma want wanted to reach out and shake her. How in the world was she going to break this curse if Regina wouldn't answer her questions?
"Just tell me this," Emma continued with a sigh when Regina said no more. "He looked ready to filet this sister of yours. Is he a danger to the rest of the town?"
Regina blinked thoughtfully. "Not usually, I would say. And not right now. He and my mother have an…odd relationship, but he's on our side when it comes to breaking the curse."
"That's not terribly reassuring."
"It wasn't meant to be," the older woman replied truthfully. "Just honest."
One of the other waitresses had been sick, which meant Mary Margaret had worked the very early shift and the lunch shift together. By the time she got home, Emma had long since gone to work, but Mary Margaret was dead on her feet and ready for a nap. She liked working for Granny—the old woman was demanding but fair—yet being a waitress was far more exhausting than she ever could have dreamed of. On the bright side, she knew the loft would be quiet now, without Henry there to visit Emma, so maybe she would be able to get a nice nap in.
She'd crawled halfway into bed when she noticed that her jewelry box was open, and Mary Margaret darted over to take a look. At first, she thought that maybe she had opened the box early that morning and had forgotten about it—she had been awfully tired when she got up—but after a few minutes panicked searching, she realized that her most beautiful necklace was gone. Emma had given her that one months ago, saying that a 'mysterious benefactor' had passed it on to her. Had the necklace not seemed so familiar, Mary Margaret never would have accepted it, but there was something about the heavy and old-fashioned necklace that touched a chord within her. She couldn't remember when she'd seen it before or how she knew that it belonged to her, but that necklace was her most precious possession.
And now it was gone.
He felt like a right cad. Apparently, he'd stolen something again, and now Francis was left with a beautiful necklace sitting on his kitchen counter. Where the hell it had come from, he couldn't remember, but he knew that Ana—Vicky!—had never owned anything like that.
"I really am going insane," he whispered to himself, and was not at all surprised when the necklace disappeared after his next blackout. Sometimes, he thought about going to see Dr. Hopper, but then he'd have to explain how he'd come back more than once with blood on his hands and couldn't always remember crimes he was pretty sure he'd committed. Francis Scadlock was a lot of things, but he wasn't an idiot, and that meant he had no intention of finding himself in jail for crimes he couldn't even remember.
So, he kept his mouth shut and his head down, hoping against hope that something would change.
He hated this restaurant, but given that he felt the same about Cora, Rumplestiltskin supposed that was rather fitting. La Tandoor was the nicest place to eat in Storybrooke—the 'new' Italian place was cheesy and had an overblown reputation—but in his opinion, the food was subpar, and the staff overly full of themselves. Still, he supposed it was better than going somewhere he actually liked, which would have marred that restaurant forever in his mind.
Thirty minutes into their 'date', Rumplestiltskin was thoroughly sick of making small talk and pretending people were not staring at them. Cora had been on her best behavior so far, but he could see what she was doing. He was a manipulator, and a more practiced one than she. Unfortunately, he could do nothing about this. Her caveats were still strong enough to bring him here, just as his pleases were still powerful enough to keep Cora from harming his family. Cora wasn't foolish enough to try to play her old games with him, because she knew that she probably could not stop him from attacking her if she did, so instead she chose a new game. This one was physically less painful, but no less infuriating.
Cora was planning for the eventual breaking of the curse, and Rumplestiltskin could not stop her from making people think he was here willingly. Just you wait, dearie, he thought, sipping his wine. Your time will come. Cora could plan all she wanted; he would still kill her the moment he was able.
"I love this shirt," Cora said, reaching out and touching his collar. "Is it new?"
Jerking away, Rumplestiltskin snarled: "It is." And my wife bought it for me, you bitch.
"Let me touch you, now," the mayor murmured, and Rumplestiltskin felt magic jerking him up short. Even as he turned to glare at her, she continued in a softly seductive voice: "No pulling away now."
"Do you really want to play this game, dearie?" he snapped. There were a hundred things he could do all the while not disobeying her caveats; he could use his magic to rip her into tiny pieces without breaking a sweat.
"We both know you're not going to make a scene, don't we?" Cora purred. "You like working behind the scenes too much for that. You don't want to play the monster in public."
As she spoke, she reached up to touch his lips, ghosting her fingers over his face, tracing his cheekbones and making Rumplestiltskin shiver. He'd tried to sit across from her when they'd been seated, but Cora had insisted on taking the seat next to him. Now he was completely within her reach, and even the simplest, lightest touch was enough to make his skin crawl. He couldn't forget, would never forget, all those nights spent tied to her bed, unable to fight while she raped him and hurt him. Those nightmares haunted him still, even with Belle's gentle presence to hold them back, and Rumplestiltskin shuddered as Cora's thumb ran along his jawline.
"You might just drive me to forget my better judgment," he bit out tensely.
"No. You won't."
Damn the woman, she was right. Using magic now, here in a full restaurant, was utterly foolish. If he did so, Cora would play the victim, and people would remember that once the curse broke. He didn't have time to deal with lynch mobs or fools that thought he was a monster and wanted to play hero by slaying the beast. Once the curse broke, Rumplestiltskin had a son to find and a family to protect, and that meant he couldn't afford to let Cora look like his victim. Enough heads would turn when he killed her later, but at least then she would definitely be the villain of everyone's story.
Her hand finally left his face, drifting down the front of his suit until it landed in his lap, coming to rest on his upper thigh. Rumplestiltskin jerked slightly, but the threads of the curse held him tightly, not letting him move very far. Tension tore through him as Cora's fingers tightened, and she did not let go even once the waiter approached.
"I think dessert would be lovely, don't you, Mr. Gold?" Cora purred when the officious looking young waiter asked.
Rumplestiltskin only grunted, desperately burying his discomfort. He would not show weakness. He would not show anyone how afraid he was.
Cora's hand tightened. "Don't you, dear?"
"Of course," he snapped, hating the feel of fingers dancing on his inner thigh. He picked something at random when the waiter rattled off the list of options, trying his best to ignore the parade of images flashing through his mind.
Despite his efforts, he didn't hear Cora order her own dessert, didn't notice the waiter walking away. Instead, memories assaulted him, overriding even the furious howls of his curse.
"Cora, don't—"
Crying in pain, shaking in rage and in shame, twisting desperately to get away from her and unable to do so.
"Stay still now," she whispered, and Gold's body went rigidly still, not responding to his commands. He didn't understand, didn't want her, and yet—
Fingers shifted, brushing against his fly, and Rumplestiltskin jerked free of the memories. "Cora—"
"Yes?" A sweet smile, but he could see the hunger in her eyes, the desire to hurt him again.
He couldn't do this. He couldn't take this anymore. Cora's now meant he couldn't move away, but Rumplestiltskin could use a touch of magic to make her fingers burn when she touched him. It was a warning, one he hoped she would heed. Because he couldn't let her do this. He couldn't stay still and let Cora abuse him like this anymore. I can't—I can't—Don't touch—don't—Then the magic took hold, protecting him like nothing else in his life ever had.
"You'll pay for that," Cora hissed, yanking her hand away.
With her touch removed, now he could turn and look her in the eye, smiling coldly and locking his fears deep inside himself where hopefully they would not escape. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
She could try to force him; he could find creative ways to stop her. They were at an impasse, and they finished their desserts without further incident before going their separate ways.
"You're working late," Belle said, walking into the sheriff's office. She'd ignored Moe and Tony trying to speak to her and strode by them with her head held high. Belle had nothing to say to them, and didn't want to hear their excuses anymore. She would talk to her father when the curse broke, and if he apologized—and meant it—she would see where that led them. Until then, she was done with both of them.
"Part of the job," Emma shrugged.
"Have a minute?" she asked after waiting another moment for the sheriff to say something more. Belle wasn't entirely sure why she'd come here, or if she could even accomplish anything, but she couldn't stay at home while Rumplestiltskin was out with Cora. Not when she was worried sick and couldn't focus on anything, even their beautiful little daughter. So, she'd dropped Renee off at Dove and Marie's, so grateful that the pair were willing to look after her. Belle had to do something.
"Sure." The blonde looked up. "I hear Gold's out with Cora."
Belle grimaced. "News travels fast."
"It's a small town," Emma replied, and then continued hesitantly. "You okay? The two of you seemed…I dunno, happy. I wouldn't have figured him for the running around type."
"It's not as simple as you think," she said quietly, knowing that Rumplestiltskin wouldn't want her airing his dirty secrets to Emma and desperate to change the subject. So, Belle forced a smile. "But nothing is in this town is, is it?"
"You can say that again!"
A small laugh escaped Belle despite the heavy feeling of worry in her stomach. "So, do you want to talk about the curse?"
"How much do you know about it?" Emma asked curiously.
"More than you might think," she replied casually, and green eyes focused on her contemplatively.
"Well, do you know how to break the damn thing?"
"Hello?" It had been a horrible day, between working long hours and then finding the necklace gone, and the last thing Mary Margaret needed was for another crank call to wake her up. She'd been just about to crawl into bed when the phone rang, and if there was no one on the other end, she was so ready to rip into someone. Anyone.
"Mary Margaret, hey," David's familiar voice said, and she hated the way her heart leapt.
"Hi," she said shortly, pushing back the odd combination of joy at hearing his voice and the heartfelt desire to cry.
"Look, I know you're probably angry with me, but I had to talk to you. I needed to say I'm sorry."
"Francis Scadlock saw you kissing Kathryn Cole, David," Mary Margaret cut in, her voice flat.
"You believe anything Scadlock has to say?" he countered, and it was a good point. Granny had only seen the pair together, not any romance, and maybe Scadlock was trying for another scandal. I hope. David continued: "Look, I went out with Kathryn as a friend. That's all. She wanted to look at cats at the shelter, so we went out to lunch and then I took her there. It wasn't anything important, not at all."
She shouldn't hope. She shouldn't. "Then why are you apologizing?"
"Because I've been distant. I've been…thinking a lot, thinking about how—even when Regina's okay with it—it's still wrong to be sneaking around behind her back like this," he said, sounding guilty. Despite herself, Mary Margaret wanted to reach through the phone to kiss him. Was that what the problem had been?
"David, if that's what's bothering you, why didn't you just talk to me?" she asked, her heart pounding.
Scadlock had to be wrong. Her life wasn't in shambles, even if the precious necklace was missing.
"That's kind of what I'm trying to do now," David replied. "Can we go out tomorrow? Talk about this? Maybe we can figure out a way ahead together."
"I'd like that." She knew she was beaming, but what was wrong with that? By the time David hung up a few minutes later, Mary Margaret's terrible day had turned much better, and that night she dreamt of a home with the man she loved and a daughter with long blonde hair.
There.
Sitting back in her comfortable chair, Cora put the heart back into its box. She didn't close it, however, instead smiling contentedly to herself and studying the beating heart. Mary Margaret Blanchard—Eva's nauseatingly sweet daughter—had not suffered enough. She had been trying to find a slice of happiness underneath the curse, trying to be with her precious Prince Charming. But Cora had not cast the Curse to End All Curses because she wanted Snow White to have her happy ending. Cora had cast it as a final and irrevocable act of vengeance against the woman who had ruined her life, and she would not let her obnoxious little stepdaughter win.
Her initial plan had been to kill the ungrateful prince, who had not been satisfied with Cora's own daughter and had instead decided to have an affair. But no, this was much more satisfying. She could still kill him whenever she wanted, but death was so permanent. No, she would make them both suffer in the meantime, and then and only then would she kill David. There would be a lesson for Regina in that as well, one her younger daughter certainly needed to be taught. Again. In the meantime, however, Cora would do what she did best, and she would make her enemies suffer. Starting with Snow White.
Tomorrow, David would break Mary Margaret's heart.
A/N: Thank you to everyone for the lovely reviews, particularly to the guests who I can't respond to individually!
Stay tuned for Chapter Sixty-Seven—"Queen of Hearts", in which the plan for breaking into the Basement begins, Mary Margaret and David try to clear the air (while Cora meddles), Rumplestiltskin makes a startling discovery about his daughter, and Emma meets Cruella's cursed counterpart. Back in the past, Robin and Charming creep up on Maleficent's castle and Cruella and Ursula try to keep their friend safe.