Chapter Seventy-Seven—"Before the Storm"
Well.
That had not gone entirely according to plan, but she had prepared for this eventuality. And Cora had purposefully left Zelena behind at the summer house, even though she had known that something could happen to temporarily oust her from power. She simply hadn't expected it to be Maleficent.
I will have to deal with her sooner than I had planned, Cora decided, settling in behind her desk in the summer house after teleporting there. Perhaps I should have Zelena do that. Of course, she had no desire to keep the infant here in her own home; she would have to maintain a suitable place to keep little Lily, one that would keep her away from her mother. Secrecy was her best weapon on that front. So long as Maleficent did not know where her daughter was, she would be under Cora's thumb. Time to bring Fagin into the fold, then. The man who ran Storybrooke's orphanage was a vile little bastard, but he'd been an exploiter of orphans and runaways in their old world. He'd be the perfect one to sit on the little brat, provided that Maleficent couldn't intimidate him.
"Did everything go all right, Mother?" Zelena asked from the doorway.
Cora resisted the urge to grimace. "Well enough," she replied testily. "But the heroes do think they've won now, I'm sure. Although they're already discovering that their allies are not so reliable."
"What did Rumple do this time?" her daughter wondered, and Cora snorted.
"Oh, it was Maleficent, actually. Rumple should be dealt with by the end of the day—though I do need you to keep an eye on things while I manage that problem."
"Of course, Mother. Shall I call Ingrid and Jafar in?"
Ah, the pleasure of having an intelligent subordinate! Zelena might require a little careful handling, but she was worth the work. Usually.
"Please do," Cora agreed. "But watch Ingrid. She will undoubtedly still be angry about Emma having been endangered. In fact, set the Jabberwocky on her for a bit. That should tame her."
"Oooh, that will be a pleasure!" Zelena giggled.
Cora smiled thinly. "As will my evening plans," she purred, and mother and daughter exchanged a very satisfied look.
"Thank you, Babette," Belle said with a smile, handing over her fussing three year old. Today wasn't a day for Gabrielle to be in the shop; lunch had barely passed on the day the curse had broken, and the town was already a mess. She and Rumple needed to be in the center of everything, needed to keep an eye on everything that was going on, but this was no place for their daughter.
"Of course, My Lady," Babette replied, and Belle squeezed her arm.
"Just Belle. We're not in the Enchanted Forest anymore."
"Not cursed," Gabi volunteered helpfully, making both women laugh.
"Yes, My—Belle," Babette corrected herself with a sheepish smile, and Belle caught the shadow of a smirk on Dove's face. Rumple's large employee said nothing, but Belle could tell that his girlfriend's blunder amused him.
"Call us if anything happens," she continued, trying not to fret but so very worried.
"We will," Dove spoke up, coming into the shop through the side door to stand next to Babette. "And we'll not let her out of the house, either."
"Thank you. Both of you," Rumplestiltskin said, stepping forward to put a hand on Belle's arm before she could give into the urge to grab her daughter back. She knew it was safest to send Gabrielle home; the pink mansion had plenty of magical wards surrounding it, and was by far the most secure place for Gabrielle, but Belle still was uncomfortable letting her little girl out of her sight in this chaos.
Dove nodded easily. "We'll be off, then, boss."
The pair—tiny Babette (formerly Marie) and huge Dove—left together, carrying Gabrielle out to their car and heading back to the Golds' house. They were Gabi's favorite babysitters, as well as the only ones Belle knew her husband would trust. Dove had been the one living soul who had known about her marriage to Rumplestiltskin in the Enchanted Forest, and although the curse seemed to have given him and Marie/Babette their relationship, both seemed more than happy to stick with it. Still, Belle hated sending her daughter away on a day like this, even if it was for the best.
"She'll be all right," Rumplestiltskin said quietly, wrapping an arm around her as the side door closed. "I'll know if anyone tries to get through the wards, and I can be there in seconds."
"And Sir Perceval's ring will protect her, I know," Belle replied heavily. "I still worry."
"Me, too, sweetheart."
They cuddled for a long moment, Belle pressing against her husband's chest and him just holding her. The world might be uncertain, but at least they had one another, and although their marriage would never be easy, they were both prepared to fight for it. And for each other. Finally, Belle forced herself to focus on the situation at hand.
"Have you decided what you're going to do about Cora?" she asked quietly.
"Aside from kill her, you mean?"
Hearing Rumplestiltskin say that so bluntly still sent an unpleasant chill down Belle's spine, even though she'd known it was coming. So, she swallowed hard and forced her voice to be level. "I mean…well, if you play your cards right, the town might actually take your side."
"I am not telling them what happened," Rumplestiltskin snapped immediately, and Belle felt the tension and the shame in him, could see the way his eyes flicked away from hers and old memories rose to torment him.
"I didn't mean you should," Belle said quickly. "But Cora is everyone's problem, right? She killed King George earlier, and also tried to kill Snow's old nanny. She's not going to make peace with anyone, and someone has to stop her."
"What's your point?" he asked testily, and Belle leaned in to rub his shoulder soothingly.
"Maybe you should ally with them. Cora's actions earlier today should have shown them that they can't lock her away. They'll need help, and you're the only one they can turn to."
Rumplestiltskin sighed. "I see what you're saying but…"
"But if you're their ally, they can hardly argue with you taking care of your problem, can they?" she pointed out logically. "You wanted to be free to find Baelfire, Rumple, without anyone getting in your way. Allying with them is the best way to accomplish that."
His scowl told her that she was getting through to him, even if Rumplestiltskin clearly didn't like it.
"Give it a day or so. I'm sure they'll come by and ask for your help again," Belle persuaded him gently. "And then you'll have accomplished what you wanted to all along: Cora will be the villain of the piece, and we'll be free to find Bae without interference."
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Belle," her husband gave in with a whisper, and she threw him a radiant smile.
"Probably burn the town down by now. Or release that wraith you have in the medallion," Belle grinned, and Rumplestiltskin finally laughed with her.
He was a stupid, stupid fool, but the moment he saw his wife, Will Scarlet rushed towards her. Ana was on the sidewalk with a few other women he didn't recognize, but he didn't really care about them. What he cared about was Anastasia, who he'd so royally screwed over as Francis Scadlock and who probably hated his guts.
"Ana!"
She twisted to look at him, her long blonde ponytail whipping in the slight March wind. Her eyes immediately went wide. "Will?"
"Aye," he answered cautiously, stopping a few feet away from her. "Look, love, before you slap me senseless—or worse, an' I know I deserve it—let me say that I'm sorry. Even when I was Francis, I don't think I wanted to hurt you, but I did. And I'm sorry."
"Will, you're an idiot," his wife said, stepping right up to him. Will braced himself for an ear-ringing slap, but she kissed him instead.
Taken by surprise, it took Will a moment to react, but when he did he wrapped his arms around her and hung on tightly. Even if Ana was going to come to her senses and wallop him, he still loved her. He always would, even when Cora had his heart. He just couldn't feel it as completely, was all. He still loved her.
"In fairness to me, you've known that for an awfully long time," he said when they came up for air.
"Well, it isn't a surprise," Ana grinned back, reaching up to stroke his face. "She still has your heart, doesn't she?"
"Yeah," Will said heavily. "And that's why…well, I had to see you, but you'd best stay away from me. I'm not going to hurt you again, not if I can help it."
"I'll take my chances, Will."
Quickly, he shook his head. "You can't. Cora made me put you in that awful place before, and there's no way to know what she'll make me do next. She's got me heart. I can't fight her."
"Then we'll find a way to get it back," his fierce wife replied, and Will felt a suspicious pang in his empty chest.
He loved her more than anything, but he wouldn't let her risk herself. The first chance Will got, he was going to split. Storybrooke was a bigger town than most people thought, and he'd find a way to avoid her. For Ana's safety. Because nothing else mattered: not his life, his heath, or his own freedom. Only Ana.
Killian also saw the knot of young women—and one young man—standing outside Granny's, gathered there by Ruby, who seemed to have taken them all under her wing and decided that her grandmother was going to put them all up until they had somewhere better to go. Watching them head towards the tables outside the diner made him cross to the other side of the street; the last thing he needed right now was to be recognized. Like it or not, Cora had given him a job to do, and this was at least one that part of him relished doing. Any time he could watch the Crocodile suffer was welcome, even if he preferred not to get Baelfire caught in the crossfire.
He'll be all right in the end, he told himself. Cora only needs him as leverage.
Right. Trusting in that was like believing he could take his ship up to the top of the half-rebuilt clock tower just because the Jolly Roger had flown once. Still, Killian had no choice in the matter. He was in too deep, and Cora held too many cards. Emma and her family might be celebrating the curse breaking right now, but the Evil Queen had an eye on the bigger picture, and his money was on her.
"Killian!" a familiar voice called, and even when he told his feet to keep moving, the pirate stopped in his tracks. Then, somehow, he found himself turning to face the petite blonde who had jogged across the street towards him. She paused a few steps away, her expression wry. "Assuming that is your real name."
"Aye, it is." What else could he say? This was Mirabella but not Mirabella, which meant the way his heart skipped a beat was absolutely foolish. She'd been cursed. Whatever he felt for her, he felt for a woman who no longer existed. And it's a bloody shame.
"I—" Mirabella's smile turned into a wide-eyed look of surprise as she cut herself off, exclaiming: "I remember you! You're the one handed pirate!"
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," Killian replied carefully, wondering if she was someone he had threatened or harmed during his colorful piratical career. He hoped not.
He really hoped not.
But Mirabella's smile didn't waver. "I'm Tinker Bell." She must have seen his confusion, because she added: "The little green fairy in the jar? The one you refused to help?"
"Oh." His jaw wanted to drop, and Killian tried desperately to stop it, but he didn't quite manage, though he did snap his mouth shut quickly. "I…I think I owe you an apology, then."
"Still working for Cora?" she asked, not unkindly.
"It's a business relationship, Mir—love."
"Tink," she replied. "Call me Tink."
"Alright, then…Tink," Killian tried the name on for size, and found that it rolled off the tongue rather pleasantly. "I am sorry. For, well, everything. No gentleman would have kept coming back to you the way I did, not when you couldn't say no."
"Stop," Tink said gently, stepping forward to lay a hand on his arm. "Don't apologize for that. You always let me say no. I never felt trapped. Not with you. You made sure I didn't."
"I tried to," he admitted.
"Well, you succeeded," the fairy replied, and damn it all if she wasn't wearing a bloody green shirt. How had he not recognized her? But now Tink turned a little bashful, glancing at the ground. "I know now is probably a bad time, but…do you want to meet again, sometime? Now that the curse is broken?"
Cora would hate it, Killian knew. Whatever side she was on, Tink certainly wasn't going to choose the Evil Queen who had stuffed her in a jar for months and then in the Basement for years. Cora would be seriously peeved if he tried to pursue a romantic relationship that didn't benefit her, and he had no doubt that she'd make that very clear to him. And yet…he didn't give a damn.
"I'd like that," Killian replied honestly, and was rewarded by a blazing smile.
Gold hadn't exactly been helpful that morning, but then again, she and her parents had walked in on the so-called 'Queens of Darkness' (a nickname David shared with her, and which made Emma snort) antagonizing him. Emma hoped that coming by in the afternoon would wind up with Gold in a better mood. They still had to find Regina, and fast. Her parents—and God, wasn't it weird thinking of Mary Margaret and David that way?—were with Henry, and Emma had opted to come alone. She and Gold didn't always see eye to eye, but there'd been enough drama that morning. She wanted to see him alone.
Or, as close to alone as she could manage with Belle around, anyway. Both were present when Emma opened the door to the shop, but she figured that might actually be a good thing. Belle seemed to be a moderating influence on him, and Emma could really use that at the moment.
"You said you needed something of Regina's for a locator spell," she said by way of greeting. "Here."
David had provided the book that had been on Regina's nightstand, and Emma had thought it worth bringing solely to see the expression on Gold's face. And she'd been right: it was priceless. The Dark One looked like he'd swallowed a fish whole and it was flapping around in his gullet as his eyes went wide. Still, he managed to speak in an admirably level (and ironic) tone:
"Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches' Guide to Romance Novels," Gold read aloud as his wife snickered. "This is what you bring me?"
Emma shrugged, trying to contain her own desire to laugh at the look on his face. "It's what Regina was reading."
"Well, then." He cleared his throat. "I suppose it will do."
Belle seemed to give up on containing herself, and giggled out loud. Then she looked up at Emma, her face the picture of innocence. "Do you know if Regina was done with the book? I might want to borrow it."
"Belle!"
Gold might have sounded horrified, but Emma was laughing too hard to think. She and Belle exchanged an amused glance over Gold's irritated and dumbstruck expression, which only sent the two of them to giggling once more. Grumbling under his breath, Gold turned and ducked into the back room, leaving the offending book on the counter and hopefully going to gather whatever he needed for a locator spell. Meanwhile, Belle flipped the paperback over to read the back, calling over her shoulder:
"You won't damage the book, will you, Rumple? I really do want to read it."
Emma tried to snort back another burst of laughter; Gold didn't dignify that with a response, instead banging something around in the back as his wife looked innocent. I think I'm really starting to like her, Emma thought to herself. Between talking Gold into helping Mary Margaret, and just generally sassing him, Belle seems like a good ally to have.
"So, do you think—" she started to ask, only to be cut off when the door opened with the tinkling of a bell, and Belle's entire posture changed from relaxed and happy to tense and wary. Turning around, Emma spotted Killian O'Malley—or whoever he was now that the curse was broken—walking in with a slightly guilty look on his face.
"You're not welcome here," Belle said bluntly. "And believe me when you say that you don't want to hang around here."
"Don't get all worked up, love," Killian replied, sounding no different than he had the hundred or so times he and Emma had talked. Weird. "I'm just here to deliver something, and then I'll be out of your hair."
"You can take whatever delivery you have elsewhere, Hook," she snapped, and that made Emma blink.
"Wait. You're Captain Hook?" she gaped. "Aren't you only supposed to have one hand?"
"Killian Jones, at your service," the pirate replied, bowing with a flourish. Then he grimaced. "The hand thing is a…tad complicated."
Emma might have asked, but Gold had come out of the back room and the apparent temperature seemed to drop by twenty degrees. The Dark One and the pirate glared at one another as Gold stepped up next to Belle, and Emma sensed old hatred simmering in the air. Then this isn't just about what happened to Belle, she decided. There's something more going on.
"You'd better have a good reason for coming here, dearie," Gold said, his voice soft and dangerous. "Because I'm not feeling terribly forgiving for the way you attacked my wife."
"I told you that you should get away from him when you could, love," Killian said to Belle, who scowled.
"I'm exactly where I want to be," she retorted. "Now, what do you want?"
The pirate/marina owner grimaced again. "As I said, I'm here to deliver a message." He turned to Gold. "One you'll want to pay attention to."
Stepping forward, Killian placed a bag on the countertop, and then backing up several steps as quickly as he could. Gold emptied the bag casually, and a portable tape recorder/player fell out, along with a vial of what seemed to be blood. Almost lazily, he glanced up at Killian, who added:
"Cora sends her regards. She says to call her, and she'll explain."
"And here I thought you had more self-respect than to play errand boy for her majesty," Gold replied drolly. "I suppose I was wrong."
"Just call her," Killian snapped.
"Get out of my shop."
Killian didn't seem to need another invitation; he left without so much as glancing Emma's way. She, however, was unbearably curious.
"You gonna call Cora?"
"Not on her schedule, no," Gold retorted. "She can wait."
"Rumple," Belle said quietly, fingering the vial. "I think that's blood."
He shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time, sweetheart."
But that was a big enough vial that someone hadn't just pricked their finger to fill it, and something told Emma that Cora hadn't gone and raided the hospital's blood bank to fill a bottle up just for kicks. Knowing Cora, there was only one conclusion to come to, so she spoke up. "Look, if Cora's got someone and that blood can help them, we need to know who it is right away. Otherwise, there's no knowing what she'll do."
"She's right," Belle pointed out, even as Gold's phone rang. He glanced at Belle before answering it, and much to Emma's surprise, put the phone on speaker.
"What do you want, Cora?" he asked, his voice even colder than when he'd spoken to Killian. Emma hadn't thought that was possible, but she'd never heard him sound so dangerous.
"I understand you've received my message," the Evil Queen's voice came from the other end, sounding as chipper as Cora ever did.
"Cryptic as ever," Gold replied dryly.
"Start with the vial. If you do a bit of blood magic, you'll find that it belongs to someone terribly close to you—someone you haven't seen in a very long time," Cora purred, and the hair on the back of Emma's neck started to stand up. "Then listen to the tape recorder."
"Why in the world would I want to play your little games?" he asked, but he'd already handed the phone to Belle to hold, and Emma could see magic sparking from his right hand as he picked up the vial. A quick flick of one finger cut the palm of his left hand open, and a drop of blood oozed out even as he opened the vial. It glowed gold, and then immediately flew towards the blood inside the open vial. Gold's eyebrows went up, and his head jerked around to look at Belle. She cocked her head in some sort of silent communication that Emma utterly missed, but Cora spoke before either could say anything.
"Because you'll never forgive yourself if you don't, Rumple," was the sweet answer. "I'll hold while you listen to the recording."
Looking wary, Gold thumbed the play button. Immediately, the sound of ragged panting filled the shop, and then Cora's voice came out of the tape player, scratchy and recorded:
"Lest you think this is some random recording, dear, I thought I would let you hear my voice," she said coldly, and then her voice was replaced by someone screaming.
Someone male. Instinctively, Emma flinched away from the sound, but Gold let it play far longer than she would have, for ten or fifteen interminable seconds. Belle looked horrified, but Gold's expression was as cold and uncaring as Cora's voice, and for the first time, Emma could really see the unfeeling monster that Henry's book said he could be. Seeming more angry and annoyed than disturbed, he hit stop and looked back at the cell phone Belle still held.
"What the hell is this?" Gold snarled.
"Your son."
Gold rocked back, his uncaring expression rapidly shifting to stark white shock. His eyes were wide, absolutely huge, and Emma watched in fascination as he dropped the tape recorder from obviously numb fingers. Belle caught him by the arm, her face full of worry, but he didn't even seem to react. His eyes were riveted on the tape recorder, still round and disbelieving. A long moment passed before Gold snapped:
"You're lying."
"Am I?" Cora countered from over the phone. "I trust you've detected the blood link by now. You could do a few more spells, just to be certain, but I'm not sure poor Baelfire shares your patience."
"Bae." The ragged whisper seemed to rip out of him against his will; Gold suddenly looked both broken and hopeful at the same time.
By now, Belle's hand on his arm had tightened, and she was watching her husband closely. Gold still looked too shocked to speak coherently, but then he shook himself, and Emma could see him gathering up the shreds of his self-control and banishing the shock.
"What do you want, Cora?" Gold grated out dangerously.
The answer was immediate: "Your dagger, of course."
"What makes you even think—"
"You can't get to him before I kill him, Rumple," Cora cut him off, her voice frigid. "So, make the choice: your precious lost son or your freedom. Which will it be?"
Freedom? Emma wondered. What does a dagger have to do with freedom? She vaguely remembered finding that drawing with Henry, and Henry had explained that that wavy dagger was the only thing that could kill the Dark One. Was that why Cora wanted it? Did she want to kill Gold? Somehow, that didn't quite fit, but she didn't have the chance to ask before Gold spoke again.
"If I'm even going to contemplate giving you such a thing, I want some guarantees," he said, his tone now matching Cora's in its glacial temperature.
"Oh, no. No guarantees. Just your son's life," Cora laughed. "That's all you get."
"No." Gold looked like saying the word caused him physical pain, but his voice was absolutely rock-steady. Belle had moved close and wrapped an arm around his waist, still holding the phone silently with her other hand, and Gold was leaning on the counter for support.
"No? And here I thought you missed your son." The Evil Queen's mocking comment made Gold flinch.
But then he laughed, a low and terrifying sound. "And I'm not so foolish as to give you the means to force me to kill him five seconds after I save him," he retorted. "So, here's what we're going to do, dear. You're going to sign a magically-binding contract, in which you swear not to harm anyone in my family—or force me to do it, or have any of your creatures, heartless or otherwise, do the same. Or take their hearts, or imprison them in any way. Otherwise, you'll face the consequences. In return, I'll give you the dagger. Deal?"
"Looking for loopholes as always, Rumple?" Cora asked lightly. "I might just kill your son out of spite."
"No. You won't." Something flashed through his brown eyes too quickly for Emma to track, but she thought it might be fear. "You want me too badly for that. And you know that there's nowhere in this world, or in any other, where you can hide if you harm my boy."
"Fine. You have a deal. Bring your contract and meet me in the woods by the well in one hour," she snapped. "Try anything and Baelfire dies."
"I understand," Gold grated out, and Emma heard the click as Cora hung up the phone. Immediately, he turned to Belle, his face a mess of emotions and regret. His voice shook as he spoke: "Belle, I'm sorry. I have to."
"I know that." Discarding the phone, the small woman reached up to touch Gold's cheek, leaning in so that their foreheads rested against one another. "I wouldn't expect you to do anything less for him."
"Belle…"
"I love you," the brunette whispered, and Emma backed off a few steps, really feeling like she was intruding and maybe she should leave, but also needing to know what the hell was going on. Belle, however, continued firmly: "I'm not letting you do this alone."
"You can't," he sounded broken. "You have to keep Gabi safe. Cora's likely to try to exploit that loophole in the hour she has—she can harm her now without repercussions. You have to take care of her first."
"Cora doesn't know she's our daughter," Belle objected, confirming what Emma had been wondering about for months.
"That doesn't mean she won't go after her, anyway. You can't, sweetheart. I have to do this alone."
"I can come." The words were out of Emma's mouth before she even thought about it, but it was the right thing to do. "I can make sure Cora holds up her end of the bargain and get your son out of there. I'll bring him to Belle."
Both Golds turned to stare at her, probably having forgotten that Emma was there at all. Belle's face immediately creased into a small, worried smile, but Gold just nodded jerkily. "Fine."
Well. She hadn't expected him to give in so easily, but that was at least that. Clearing her throat, Emma had to ask:
"So, uh, you have a son?"
"I lost him." Gold's tortured expression closed off again. "A long time ago. I…foolishly told Cora the story when we were on better terms. I don't know how she found him."
"I'll help you get him back," Emma promised. After all, she was here to bring back the happy endings, wasn't she? Gold had helped her save Henry's life; the least she could do was return the favor. "But this, um, dagger. What's the deal with it? Henry showed me a picture, but…"
"It's not important," Gold answered immediately, and Belle gave him a hard look.
"Rumple."
Surprisingly, Gold looked away. Was that shame twisting his features up like that? When he didn't answer, Belle explained.
"You know that Cora has your father's heart, right?" the former librarian asked softly. "Among others?"
"Yeah. She can control people with them."
"This is worse. Far worse," Belle said, her eyes flicking back to her husband. "It's the price of being the Dark One. Rumple's power can be controlled by anyone who has the dagger."
"Oh." Damn, that did sound bad. "Are you…are you sure this is the right thing to do, giving Cora that power?"
Gold's head snapped around to look at her, his eyes burning with a fire Emma had never seen from him before. "Would you do absolutely anything to save your son, Miss Swan? Make any sacrifice required?"
"Of course." She'd proven that just this morning.
"Then don't talk to me about right and wrong, dearie. He's my son. End of story."
He'd learned to recognize her footsteps by now, and Neal dragged himself to his feet when he heard Cora coming down the stairs. He was hurting like hell, and really just wanted to curl back into the ball she'd left him in before, but Neal would be damned if he'd let this crazy bitch win like that. She'd told him that she wanted him as leverage against his father, and then had tortured the hell out of him—mostly using magic, though there'd been a whipping in there that he wouldn't soon forget—and used a damn tape recorder to record his screams. If that wasn't sick, Neal didn't know what was, but he wasn't going to lie on the cold floor like a lump of broken potatoes when she came down, no matter what she'd done.
"Back for more?" he asked, trying to sound brave and hating the way his voice wanted to shake. Damn, he'd forgotten how many reasons he had to hate the Enchanted Forest. People just didn't torture their enemies' kids for shits and giggles in the modern world!
"Oh, no. You and I are about to take a little trip into the woods," Cora replied, smiling smugly.
"Why the hell would I want to take a trip with you?" Neal snorted, ignoring the way Geppetto glanced worriedly his way. His big mouth had only gotten him hurt more last time, but hey, it was easier to deal with when he was taunting the bitch.
"We're going to go see your father," she said, stepping up close to the bars of the cage. Neal wished to hell that he could back further away, but he was already near the back, and the cage was only about six feet by six feet. The utter calm in Cora's eyes was terrifying; she was smug and looked satisfied, but the insane fire he'd expected a torturer to demonstrate simply wasn't there.
"And then what?" he asked, too smart to think that this was anything but a trick.
Cora's dark eyes flashed. "Then Rumplestiltskin will give me his dagger in exchange for you."
"Papa will never do that." The words came out automatically, but for a moment, Neal was a fifteen year old Baelfire again, telling his father that the power was more important to him than his own son was, and listening to Rumplestiltskin try to say otherwise. But Rumplestiltskin had proven that to him at the edge of a portal leading to another world—an admittedly crappy world, one in which his crippled father might have done very badly. His father had let him go, traded him for power and darkness, and even the man Neal had become would never forget that.
"He's already agreed."
That knocked the wind right out of Neal, and he searched her face for a lie. But he couldn't see one, and Cora had no reason not to tell the truth. Once, he'd known that his father would sacrifice absolutely anything for him, but Bae had known those days were gone the moment his father became the Dark One. Then his beloved father had become a demon who hurt people all the time, with only the most distant pieces of Rumplestiltskin's soul there to taunt his son. Power had become everything; Bae had seen that time and again before he'd fallen through that portal, let go by the man who had once meant everything to him. He's already agreed, Cora had said. He's going to trade the dagger for me?
The tiny whisper finally escaped of its own volition. "…What?"
"Your father and I have a deal," Cora shrugged casually. "The dagger, and his freedom, for your safety."
"He wouldn't."
Neal had lived over two centuries with that certainty, with knowing that his real father had died the moment he'd taken that curse on, knowing that he hadn't been enough after that. After all, he'd watched the Duke of the Frontlands die for trying to make the same kind of bargain, and Rumplestiltskin had never even contemplated giving the dagger up, then. But…but if Cora wasn't lying, all those centuries' old assumptions might be wrong. If enough of his father survived to make that choice, to make that deal…then had Bae spent hundreds of years hating his father for the wrong reasons?
He can't, Bae didn't say, but the thought still lingered.
A/N: And here it comes: Cora's plan B, in which she knows exactly what she wants.
Stay tuned for Chapter Seventy-Eight—"Love Over Power," in which Rumplestiltskin reunites with his lost son, Emma discovers said son is her old beau, and an ancient Lover's Curse kicks back in when Ariel runs into Eric.