Author's Note: 150 reviews?! You guys are amazing, thanks so much!
Chapter XIII
Hello Again, Dearie
"Can I eat one, Nan?" Esmeralda carefully inspected the tree's very first fruits. The tree was six years old, like Regina, and though it was unusually early for a Honey Crisp to bear fruit so early, she was not surprised. She plucked one of the bright red apples from the tree and wiped it on her cloak to remove any dirt.
"Yes, Nightingale, it is your tree so you should be the one to enjoy its fruit first."
Regina, bright and beautiful, grinned and took the apple with a laugh. Happiness sparked in her dark brown eyes. "Can we pick one for you and Daddy too? You planted it for me when I was a baby."
They had. She remembered it like it had happened only days instead of years before. She had cut a honey crisp apple into half and she and Henry had each taken a bite. Then she slid her dagger across each of their palms and let their intermingled blood fall on the flesh of the apple. She carefully bound the wound on Henry's hand, then her own. She had turned to Regina, sleeping peacefully on her cloak and the fragrant grass of the meadow she had spread it across. She had very carefully cut a lock of silky black hair from the baby's head and then laid a kiss on her smooth forehead.
"By binding the blood of those who love her and the babe's essence to this tree, it will provide a tether for her soul. So long as she tends to this tree, she will never be completely lost." Henry held the apple as she curled the hair around the fruit's seeds.
"And she will have a connection to us, to the love we feel."
Henry smiled at her as he spoke and his closeness made her heart clench in a way that she had sworn it never would again.
"Yes." Her words had been little more than a whisper. They knelt together and carefully planted the half of the apple with the seeds that would grow into a tree. When Henry's fingers brushed against hers as they resettled the dirt, she felt her skin tingle.
"It's good, Nan!"
Regina's voice shook her out of her thoughts.
"Of course, it is as sweet as you are, My Little One."
Regina's giggle was like music to her ears.
"Oh I don't know about all of that."
A man in a black cloak appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and Esmeralda immediately pulled Regina behind her.
"Reveal yourself."
There were few people foolish enough to come onto a Noble's private lands unannounced. There were fewer still that would risk angering the Prince's wife. Cora practiced dark magic, this was known. When the intruder pushed back his hood, Esmeralda felt her blood turn to ice in her veins.
"Little One, take your father an apple."
She had to get her little girl away, now.
"But I should greet our guest, Mother says that a Lady should always be graci-"
"Now."
Her voice hardened and she spoke harshly. She hated speaking to Regina so roughly, she got enough poison and cruelty from Cora, but she would not tolerate arguments, not now.
"Okay."
She took her apple and another and stomped off towards the barn where Henry was tending to his beloved horses.
"And they say the Romani are famed for their hospitality." His voice was mocking and irreverent, and carried a subtle insult.
She waited until she knew that Regina was out of earshot.
"You are not welcome here, Dark One."
He clapped his hands and laughed, it was a chilling sound devoid of true joy. It sounded cruel and mirthless, much like Cora's laugh.
"Oh, but I am. Where do you think the girl's mother learns all her nasty little spells from?"
Esmeralda narrowed her eyes. She was not surprised that Cora held court with the Dark One, but knowing the beast had been so close to her precious Little Nightingale made her temper kick up in her chest.
"You will not touch that little girl."
He moved like lightening, in a blink of an eye he had her pinned against the tree, his hand on her throat.
"That little girl has a destiny far beyond what you can see, Soothsayer. She is already mine, Dearie."
His words were venomous, his breathe hot, his spittle spattered against her cheek. She did not flinch.
"I am not afraid of you, Dark One."
She should be, The Dark One was an ancient being, descended from and powered by the very first act of evil. This was the terrible being that her people feared above all others. This was the boogey-man of their nightmares and the ominous villain of every fireside tale. Every rational part of her being told her to be afraid of him. She was not. His odd gold skin was slimy and warm, like a toad's. His eyes were feral, like a wild cat and his desperation, his carefully hidden cowardice, shined through his bravado.
"You should be. The only thing keeping you alive right now is my amusement." He tightened his grip on her neck but she did not allow herself to gasp for air or fight his grasp. She would not even kick her feet when they left the ground. This was a battle of wills and she refused to surender.
"Only a coward" She forced the words through her abused and constricted throat, "would attack an unarmed woman and child. Are you a coward, Dark One? Is that why you slink around in the shadows making deals, because you are too afraid to dirty your own hands with real men's work?"
She was playing a dangerous game now. She came from a long and strong line of Soothsayers, and her magic was powerful, but she was a rank amateur compared to the Dark One and they both knew it.
He leaned close enough so that his nose almost touched hers. She wrinkled her nose in protest at his proximity. He is a loathsome, deranged and despicable creature. She, and all her people, cursed his name.
He was glaring at her, challenging her to try to free herself. Why waste her energy fighting a battle she couldn't win?
"You are a brave woman, aren't you, Esmeralda? Tell me are you truly willing to die here and now? For her? You served as her soothsayer, you know Regina is mine. She has always been and will always be mine. You know what she will do. Why do you defend her? It is against everything your people stand for."
Names have power and he wants her to know that this was not a random meeting. He had planned this.
"You know nothing of me or my people, Rumplestiltskin."
Names have power and she feels a tingle of victory when he loosened his grip and stepped back. He had not expected her to know his name.
"This is not over, Gypsy."
He raised his hood again and she squared her shoulders and stood to her full height, "Not for many years, Dark One."
He disappeared in a black cloud and all of her strength left her.
It took minutes, only a handful, for the clatter of hooves to catch her attention.
The image, Henry astride his chestnut hued steed, was one that had always calmed her. He all but leapt from his saddle and she found herself wrapped in his arms.
That was when she let herself tremble. That was when she let the tears come.
She felt hands, calloused but gentle, in her hair.
"Did he hurt you? Oh Spirits, did he hurt you, My Love?"
Henry was everything she had ever wanted. He was intelligent, kind, loving and he had a gentle, understated strength that most did not recognize or understand. He was also married and a Prince. They could never be together, and yet she loved him. She loved him with all of her heart and soul. He was Regina's father, and from the moment they had met she had known that they were destined to love and lose each other. Their story was not one of Regina's storybook tales, it was a tragedy waiting to play out.
"Yes." She could not, would not, lie to Henry.
He pulled her close and she could smell horses and liniment oil, leather and the faint smell of the cinnamon candies he kept in his pocket for the sweet child they both loved.
"I am sorry, Esmeralda. I should have been here to protect you, to keep you both safe." He tightened his arms around her and when she looked up at his face she could see tears swimming in his eyes. His beautiful dark eyes, the eyes he shared with his daughter. No matter what she could always see the truth in his eyes, they betrayed his every thought and feeling.
"I am safe now, My Love. Safe with you. This is known."
When he leaned in to kiss her, she let her eyes slide shut and savored the closeness and intimacy of the moment. They would never have a Happy Ending, but in these stolen moments she could close her eyes and pretend, and that would have to be enough.
She stared at the building before her, Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop. It looked like any of the other buildings in Storybrooke: plain and unremarkable. She had nothing she desired to buy, sell or trade. She did not want to be here at all. Still, though, it had to be done. The Dark One lived in Storybrooke and he was just as devious and powerful as he'd ever been. Every story her people had ever told of his power had paled in comparison to reality. She was a fool to go to his place of business, his base of power. Her clan had told her she was a fool when she'd left them to be at Henry's side, to raise and protect Regina. Her clan elders had been right, she was a fool. A very brave fool with a past full of misdeeds, deception and a love so powerful that it had allowed her to transcend realms and conquer demons that would have felled others. As powerful as she had become, she was still a lovesick fool.
She stepped into the dim store and scowled at what she saw. Possessions, other people's prized possessions. She did not know every story, but she knew that these things did not belong to the Dark One. The lingering auras of the carefully displayed possessions were plain to her eyes. She saw the cursed parents of the man named Marco, and a dead fairy's wand. She saw tragedy and treachery, all at so-called fair prices.
"Good Morning" The voice, one that often echoed in her nightmares, came from behind a curtain.
"Is there something specific you are looking for-"
His words cut off and the man stopped midstride. Genuine shock lined his very human face. He did not look like The Dark One. He looked like a man with a cane. His skin was neither scaled nor golden, but his eyes were the same: cagey, calculating and cruel.
"Come for the funeral, Dearie?"
His head cocked to the side and he walked, limped, out from behind the high glass counter.
"There has been no death."
He laughed, high and cold, and that was familiar.
"Well I hate to inform you but your precious-"
He chuckled, "What did you call her? Starling, Blue Jay, Albatross, ah yes, Nightingale. Your Little Nightingale is dead, Gypsy. She killed herself to help usher her longtime rivals home. A wasteful, unnecessary, very painful death, I assure you."
She only raised a brow and picked an invisible piece of dust off of her cloak. "You have been misinformed, Dark One. Regina is alive and very well. We had tea this morning before she left her home to see to some things in town."
"That's impossible, Dearie. No one could survive that curse. I cast it."
His confidence was astounding and faulty.
"My Nightingale did. This is known, to all but you it seems." With her help, but he need not know that detail.
If he was surprised, he hid it well. She didn't bother to look at him, she instead walked around the room. She touched the items and let the auras tell her their stories.
She paused when she came to the baby's mobile, it was made of glass beads and carefully formed and beautifully detailed glass unicorns. She let her fingers tangle in the beads and allowed the item's aura to wash over her. This had been meant for Emma Swan.
"So Her Majesty survived. That begs the question of your presence then. You struck a deal with Cora all those years ago. You swore a blood oath and a Romani never breaks their word. To break a blood oath would quite literally kill you."
She looked at him over her shoulder, "And yet I live."
He came closer, she could hear his cane tap the floor with every step. "You're still too brave for your own good, Esmeralda."
She turned slowly on her bare heel, "And you're still a coward, Rumplestiltskin."
His fist tightened around the handle of his cane, as if he wanted to swing it at her.
"I won't have to do anything, Dearie. Cora will hunt you down and kill you for breaking your deal with her."
Her eyes narrowed and rage caught fire in her chest, "I" Her words were just as hot as the inferno of anger in her, "did not break our deal. She did. Now I am back at Regina's side and I will let nothing and no one hurt her."
This was the only warning she was going to issue him.
"I will stand against Cora. She will not hurt My Nightingale ever again."
He smiled, it was a slow and crooked gesture that sat uneasily on his face. "You and what army, Dearie?"
Esmeralda felt her own lips tug into a small smirk, "I need no army."
She walked back toward the door, "Interfere and you will meet your end, Rumplestiltskn."
Her voice was cold and hard, and she meant every word she said. This was no threat, it was a promise.
"We'll see, Gypsy."
She left his shop without uttering another word. As soon as she was outside, in the sunshine, she let out the breath she had been holding for what felt like ever.
The Dark One was just as powerful, devious and intimidating as he'd ever been. She still did not fear him, but knew that her provocation had been a silly mistake. She had let her pride take over and it would most likely prove to be a costly mistake. She had traveled the realms and had never met a more dangerous and powerful being. She knew better then to jab at him. It was like attacking a giant with a pen-knife. Still, though, she could not stop herself from doing so.
"I am still a fool, Henry." She spoke to the wind and knew that it carried her words to her long dead love. She only hoped, for Regina's sake, that her foolish actions played out as she hoped they would.
How dare she? How dare that disgusting Gypsy trollop come into his space and threaten him? He was the Dark One. If the Romani had a devil, that would be him. Esmeralda should have been pissing her skirts, terrified of him. Cowed and reduced to a shivering mass of goo in his presence. He should have killed her years ago, when he'd had her throat in his hand.
Now she was stronger and more confident, and her dedication to Regina had not wavered a bit. Regina. How had the woman survived? She should be dead and gone, a lifeless corpse cloaked in Prada. The spell had been incredibly powerful and deadly. He knew death magic, it was as familiar and comfortable as a favorite pair of boots. He rubbed his hand across his chin and thought for a moment. If it had been him, how would he have saved himself?
Well, obviously he would have syphoned the curse into some other, unsuspecting, person and have them die in his place. If Regina had studied enough magical theory, and he wasn't quite sure if she had or not, she might have been able to repurpose the magic, but the result would have been something very large. Too large for him not to notice. No, something had to have happened. Perhaps she had access to a magic wand. Regina's crypt was just chock full of goodies from the Enchanted Forest, so it was possible.
How she survived was a puzzle he could solve later. He limped to the back of his shop and sat at his spinning wheel. He ran his hand over the smooth and familiar wood of the wheel and let his thoughts wander. How was this going to play out? Cora would undoubtedly want Regina at her side, whether her daughter wanted to be there or not. Hook would come to him, petty revenge on his mind. The Charmings would try to save the day and the rest of the town would fall in line. Or so Charming and Snow assumed they would. He, on the other hand, could read the writing on the wall, or in the newspaper as it was. Now that the other Kings and Queens of Storybrooke were awake and aware again, they were not content to kneel before Snow White and her True Love. George, who had escaped incarceration by hook, crook and, of course a deal, had thrown down the gauntlet. Well, he had metaphorically slapped Charming in the face with it. David Nolan, nee Prince Charming, wouldn't let that go without retaliation. He had little in the way of tact or tactics. He would rush, like an angry bull, at George. Which was exactly what George wanted him to do.
Only George was not quite smart enough to pull this off on his own. No, this positively reeked of Stephen and Leah. More specifically, Leah. Stephen might sit on the throne, but it was no secret that Leah was the real ruler. She had been born and raised in the viper pit of nobility and had taken to politics well. She was educated, sly and light handed. Most people didn't realize she was toying with them until they found themselves penniless, in a dungeon and facing the executioner's ax. Just look, he chuckled to himself, what she had done to Maleficent. Now that had been a true coup, a masterful manipulation, and a great deal of fun to watch.
He was usually content to watch the Royals fight it out, scheming and warring until they were too exhausted and bloody to do anything but marry off two youngsters for peace. This time it might interfere with his plans, though, and that simply would not do. He was too close to finding Baelfire to let a Civil War stop him now.
Civil Wars, Gypsies, Regina's miraculous survival. It was only 12:30 and he'd already had a busy day. Such was the life, he supposed, of The Dark One.