Dove called just as they were getting into the car to go home. But seeing as how Belle was in the car and knew nothing of the man just yet, he sent him to voicemail. Sure enough, only a second later, he felt his phone vibrate, a signal that he had a new message waiting for him when he finally parked the car. It made the petty part of him smile. If Dove had made him wait all day for a conversation, then he'd return the favor.

Together, they retrieved their bags from the car. It was heartbreaking when he considered that they were still packed for another couple of nights, but the moment the pair of them got into the house, and Belle turned on the living room lights with a sigh of relief, stating, "I never knew how exhausting a power outage could be," before flopping herself down unceremoniously on the couch, he felt a familiar stirring inside of him that served as a much needed reminder-with this woman, he was always on his honeymoon.

"I don't know," he pondered, setting his bag down and taking in the scene before him. He'd always be grateful whenever he had her on her back, but when she met his gaze…they could do better than this, power or not…

"The darkness has its advantages…" With a wave of his hand, a fire flared in the fireplace, warm and blazing. And when he used his magic to switch the lights off again so that the light could fill the room and cast shadows on his wife in all the right places…advantages indeed.

At some point in the middle of the night, he finally woke, naked and on the couch, tangled in Belle's arms and a blanket that used to hang on the back of the couch, with the dying firelight casting amber shadows across the room. His back hurt, probably from laying against her as he had been, but she showed no signs of distress despite the fact that he'd been dead weight on top of her. She was still asleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Oh, she might be peaceful now, but if he let them stay like this…

He gingerly extracted himself from her arms and used his magic to douse the embers of the fire for safety. Then he moved the blanket they'd been using aside and scooped her into his arms before carrying her upstairs to the bedroom.

"What's happening…" she slurred, waking just enough to throw her arms around him and sink closer to him. He smiled at that. Being moved in the night might cause an ordinary adult to panic, but as long as he was here, there was something in her that knew she was safe.

"Just taking you to bed," he answered as he kicked open their bedroom door. He used magic to pull the covers on her side back just enough that he could slip her into bed. She hummed in approval, and he just barely plucked the rest of the blankets from under her legs and over her before she rolled over and reached for his empty side of the bed.

"Where are you?" she mumbled sleepily.

He smiled as he went back to the dresser and fetched a pair of pants. "I've just got to get something from downstairs. Go back to sleep; I'll return in a moment."

Another hum of obedience, and he could tell that she was already falling into slumber all over again as he slipped out the door, went back downstairs, and looked around the living room. All in all, it wasn't as bad as he imagined. They may have been experimental in their lovemaking this evening, but they hadn't been rambunctious. The couch might have been a little worse for wear and there were clothes scattered all over the floor, the blanket was in a heap, but nothing was broken. It was nothing a little bit of magic couldn't fix. He cleaned the couch, folded the blanket, sent their clothes upstairs to a hamper, then moved into the foyer to make sure the door was locked, which was where he picked up his suit jacket and remembered that his phone was in the pocket with a voicemail in on it, one from Dove.

"Hey, sorry, my phone went dead after the power did, and I didn't realize. But I figured you'd want me out and about on a day like this. Word on the street is that there's a new girl in town, some kind of ice princess or something. I haven't gotten a name yet. Turns out she blew the power when she put a wall of ice up at the town line. She apparently got Emma stuck there with her, but the latest is that she's been freed, and the Charmings took the girl home with them. I mean, of course, they did, right? It's dark, the lights are back on, and the town is shutting down for the night. I'll be at home if you need me."

He took a deep breath and closed his phone as he thought through the message. Leave it to Dove to do exactly what he'd wanted him to do without being told. He needed to remember to give that bird a raise.

An ice princess…

That would fit the description of two people that he knew of. One of them ran the ice cream shop, and he'd met her and sensed her magic enough to know that it was similar to the magic he felt around his shop, but not identical. The other individual who fit that description…well, he thought he had a "last known location" on her, but it turned out now all he had was a theory on how she'd gotten from that last known location to Storybrooke. He could take a trip out to the ice wall that Dove spoke of, sense the magic from it, and make absolutely sure that it matched the magic he'd felt at his store, the magic of whoever had broken in and taken Anna's necklace.

He sighed as he looked at the place where their bags still lay in the foyer. After glancing up the stairs to their bedroom and sending his magic to make sure she was still asleep, he opened his own up and located the cylinder that contained the Sorcerer's Hat. He held it in his hands and considered the work that he had in front of him, the research that he'd have to do in order to make it work and potentially do what he thought it could do, but…

None of this was a coincidence. He refused to believe that it could be. Anna of Arendelle had been the last person he knew to have this hat with her. The royal family of Arendelle had been missing for years, the entire kingdom frozen solid after what had occurred there. There was no chance that suddenly they would come back into his life at the same time this hat magically fell into his lap. But how?

How?!

There had been a vision once, one that he felt his brain wanted to remember but couldn't seem to pluck from his mind. Perhaps with the Seer moved on, that would be harder these days. Or perhaps it was just because he received too many visions in his time with her and this one had never seemed to be special or important.

He tapped his fingers against the side of the box in consideration, then made strides for the basement. He had a plan. Belle would kill him for this if she ever found out about it. At the beginning of their relationship, she'd hated the idea that he left their bed for magic, but this…this was potentially just as important as Baelfire was. The hat could free him from the chains of the dagger, and if the dagger and all that came with it was cast out of him, then there was the potential he could clean his heart, and live a long life. If there was any way that Anna of Arendelle or her sister or her aunt could stand in his way, then he needed to know so that he could put a stop to it. Villains might not get happy endings, but Belle wasn't a villain. She deserved a happy ending and he wanted to be part of it. That made what he was about to do, and the sin of leaving her bed tonight, worth it.

In the beginning, when he'd first acquired his ability of prophecy, he'd written everything down, every last thing the Seer had told him. But over time, he'd gotten sloppy. There were too many visions to write down, too many faces to draw. In the end, if the vision didn't seem like it had something to do with Baelfire, he very rarely made note of it. Still, he checked the Chronicles, just to be sure. He remembered roughly the time that he'd had the vision and went back to see if there was anything there. Once he confirmed there wasn't, he moved on.

He spent an hour mixing and brewing, crushing and slicing, weaving magic into a small vial of purple liquid. Memory enhancement. If this couldn't call forth the memory, then he didn't know what would. He didn't even wait for the liquid to cool before he tossed it back and climbed the stairs.

It wouldn't last long. An hour or two, at the most. But he wanted to be comfortable. Memory Enhancement, when it wasn't watered down, could have a strong effect. When thinking back on memories of the past, what might have been seen as blurry came through crisp and crystal clear, as if one was living in that moment all over again. It could stir feelings that had long since passed. He could relive anything. And it was tempting. He could go back to that conversation with Baelfire on Hook's ship, spend some time with him once more. He could relive the first time he'd held Bae in his arms. Hell, he could spend the night reliving the dalliances of tonight if he wished. But that would do him no good. That was how addiction started and he wasn't looking to get himself into that kind of trouble. He was looking for one memory, one very important memory…

Though he was aware that he was at home in the chair by the window, he felt as though he was back in the Enchanted Forest. He felt the chill of Arendelle castle, the swirl of magic around him, and the familiar smell of the Rock Troll's infamous memory magic. He knew that Ingrid sat in a chair behind him, cradling the urn he'd once given to her in her arms, and that Anna was frozen to his right. But his attention was on the fireplace. The logs were coated in crystalized snow flurries that made them sparkle, but not nearly as much as a necklace in the shape of a snowflake, burned and charred among the logs as if someone had thrown it into the fire in anger or rage or-

Suddenly, the vision overtook him. It was an odd thing to be swallowed up into a vision while in a magically enhanced vision, but there it was…

The image of that very necklace sitting on the counter in the shop. It had been out when the photographer came by to snap photos of their engagement.

The vision morphed, and suddenly, he was looking not at the real thing but at the notecard from the shop sitting in his hands. His eyes were drawn to the picture, then to the typed word beside it.

There was a sensation, an interrupting one, the feeling of his arm around someone and theirs around his waist, the feeling of a smile on his face.

Belle.

He tried to focus. He wouldn't have known that she was who he'd be standing next to or feel so intimately in his arms when he'd had this vision but now he did. And if he didn't curb focus, then he could too easily get lost in all the ways that she'd invaded his visions back in the day before he knew her and after he believed her to be dead. He'd had so many hints, and now that he was thinking about it his mind wanted to rifle through those-

Stop!

He focused. The card. The photo. The words. Belle…and then the vision had shown him the words once more.

"Silver. Cut well. Damaged. Slightly burned. Slightly warped. Repairable. Fair condition. Current price: $200. Estimated repair costs: $150. Fully restored price: $300. Additional Notes: The repair isn't profitable, but should someone buy it, refer the buyer to jewelry repair so they can spend the extra fifty dollars themselves."

There was a thought of his own—one not from that time but much later in Storybrooke, from when he'd looked at the necklace with Mr. Gold's eyes. "Not worth my time," he'd thought. But then there was the voice of the Seer whispering in his ear. "Priceless," she'd said.

He'd come out of the vision in Arendelle and looked around, suddenly realizing that he had to take the necklace. If he left that encounter with nothing else, then he'd be okay, but to take the urn and the hat would be a triumph, too.

"Need her too!" the Seer had screamed in his mind as she pulled him back into another vision, one with a wooden table and paperwork that he hadn't understood when he was in Arendelle, but he did now. Just like with Belle, what was once mysterious was suddenly familiar to him. The wooden table he saw in this vision was in his shop. And the paperwork was inside a manilla folder. The vision was hazy at the edges, telling him that it was from the time he'd been Cursed.

The paperwork from Henry's adoption, the files he'd wanted sent over with the information on the mother. Her name had been redacted but he'd been able to decipher her history from it. Her mysterious discovery in the woods, newspaper clippings, the warrant for her arrest, plea deals…her foster families. It had all been meaningless to him then, numbers and abbreviations he didn't understand then but did now. Names that meant nothing to him then and didn't now…except for one. A name he hadn't recognized then but knew he would one day. A name he knew now. A name that had no business in being there.

Ingrid Sarah Fisher.

"She will be mother, but long for a sister. Need her too."

His eyes snapped open now, out of the vision just as he'd come out of it then. His heart was racing, his mind holding on to those visions he'd seen, putting the pieces together.

No…it couldn't be! Had it been in front of him all this time?!

He knew better than to question the Seer after all these years and yet, in the dark of the night, he padded up the stairs to his office. He had to see it for himself.

Quietly, he opened the file cabinet where he kept important legal documents. The memory enhancer still running through his veins reminded him that with Belle as his wife, he'd made promises that would involve more legal documents soon, but he shoved that thought aside for the dusty old file in the back of Regina's that he hadn't looked at in over a decade. He set it on his desk, turned on a light, and leafed through the first bit about Henry, through the newspaper articles on Emma, all the way through to the list of foster families and group homes the government had placed Emma with throughout her life until he found…

Emma's last home. 1999. Richfield, Minnesota. A group home for boys and girls. It was run by Ingrid Sarah Fisher…

I needed a way to connect Rumple with Sarah Fisher really early in this story. Because it's a small detail, but in 4x03 when Rumple meets with Ingrid under cover of darkness he asks her if Emma remembered her, suggesting knowledge that he doesn't have, and really he can't unless they have a conversation prior to that. Which means that the encounter he has with Ingrid that night in 4x03 cannot be their first encounter. And in true Rumple fashion, what I love about that is that it really puts him ahead of the game, which is really where Rumple always is. He's constantly one step ahead of everyone else, it's just going to look different this time because now Baelfire isn't the goal and the Seer is gone from his head. The vision quest was how I got him there this time.

Thank you, Rsbeall12, for your reviews on previous chapters. I'm very interested to hear what you'll say about this little twist. I did very much so want this chapter to feel a bit sloppy and chaotic. First, because it's a vision quest, and that's just the nature of the potion he took. But also because this story arc for Rumple is so different than we are used to. He planned for years to get to everything he wanted in 3A and now after the events of 3B he's really going to have to go through a process of finding himself and learning to work without a long-term goal or the Seer to give him hints. All of that is going to do stuff to a guy and I really wanted to emphasize that in this fiction. It makes things naturally a little chaotic. Peace and Happy Reading!