#a hypocrite even--repeating her own mother's mistake despite knowing it's wrong

[lcveblind]

HEADCANON. I think it’s safe to say that Ava has some mixed feelings over her kid. 

While the kid himself didn’t do anything wrong, the whole situation that led up to his birth (her ex ditching her despite sickly-sweet promises of staying together forever) and the current stress of working several jobs to keep them afloat is... taxing, to say the least. I don’t doubt Ava had some selfish thoughts regarding abandoning the kid herself, either. Especially considering her own mother did the same with her and her father.

Speaking of her kid, I? Don’t think she lets him live with her. If anything, she probably hires someone else to take care of him—-both due to her job as an escort and as someone who just. Doesn’t know how to be a mother.

[silyabeeodess]

Tangled: The Series Analysis, Cassandra's Betrayal

Before I begin, I feel like I have to set this announcement, as it’ll be a big part over both why I’m making this analysis and why it’s necessary for those of us watching the show. I don’t often say much regarding this kind of stuff, but I’ve noticed there’s starting to become a repeating problem in cartoons (especially recent Disney ones, a lot of which are trying to mimic the Gravity Falls formula and can’t quite hit the mark).  That problem is when a show creates a “big reveal” and then caters to that point so much that it deteriorates other aspects of the show or the characters that reveal involves.  Sometimes, it’s on the fault of the fandoms for banking too much on them, but the shows themselves can be in the wrong too by sweeping other things under the rug in the name of those reveals.  When Cass took the Moonstone and announced herself as Mother Gothel’s daughter--as much as it was expected by a lot of people--this very thing happened.  Furthermore, this isn’t to make up excuses for Cass’ actions, just to give some logic that seems to be disregarded in the overview. Expect this post not to agree with a lot of mainstream thoughts and feelings among the fanbase, or at least the ones more-often vocally expressed. I’m calling out the elephant in the room, but I’m just not invested enough to join in a long debate either.  

For this analysis, I’ll largely be covering S2 for references.  While we do see Cass and Rapunzel’s friendship with its problems as early as S1 (like in Challenge of the Brave), S2 focuses more on the gradual decline of their friendship.  More than that though, it’s also important because both of those two were at high points of their lives at the start of the season.  Rapunzel was finally leaving to go out and discover a world beyond Corona, along with searching for answers to the mystery of the black rocks, while Cass had garnered enough respect from both her father and the rest of the guard at the end of S1 to be entrusted to lead the battle against Varian and rescue the queen.  She can’t called a simple lady-in-waiting anymore.  For all the talk lately of Cass playing “second fiddle” and being jealous of Rapunzel because of it, this meant that Cass had an opportunity to stay in Corona and continue to focus on her own goals.  Except she didn't.  She followed Rapunzel along on her journey because she was her friend and she felt it was her duty.  We can tell how much more respect she’s gained because, above the others in the group, it was Cass that Rapunzel’s father entrusted her safety to: 

“Not that I don't think you can handle yourself,  but I promised your dad I'd keep you safe, and I'd hate to lose you less than a week on the road.” -Cassandra, in Beyond the Corona Walls

There’s also already some tension with Cass and Rapunzel right from the start:

“Not that you shouldn’t trust the endorsement of three lifetime criminals, Raps, but maybe you should trust me too.  I just wanna make sure that we’re not losing sight of what we’re doing out here.” 

Cass had a goal and was on-route to fulfilling it, but placed a greater value in Rapunzel’s safety and mission over that. This idea would later fall in line with the following verse from “Waiting in the Wings,” which indicates that it’s not just people or circumstances holding Cass back, but some of the personal choices she’s made that have set her own wants on the sidelines.

“I hear my cue and yet I’m kept there waiting,  Know what to do, and still I stand there waiting.”

Even Rapunzel would confirm later in Season Three that Cassandra stayed with her for her by choice. 

“She could've had everything she wanted.  She had the chance to become a warrior,  but she chose our friendship instead.” -Rapunzel, in Beginnings

Here comes the glaring issue though, and some of you are not gonna like me for saying it.  Rapunzel’s not that great a friend to Cass or--at times--even in general.  Before you come at me with torches and pitchforks, let’s go over some points in the show that indicate this:

Despite all of her attempts at hosting a festival in Vardaros falling flat because her personal interests/tastes don’t fall in line with the people while clearly Cass’ tastes do, she gets petty over it.  Rapunzel may have thought she was being delicate, but she dismissed all of Cass’ ideas even though other people like Vex had already shown approval toward Cass’ ways of doing things. On top of that, Rapunzel was the one to suggest they split up instead of trying to work things out together. Yes, Cass stayed angry until the end of the episode, but she sure didn’t start it. 

Rapunzel’s always running off to do her own thing despite how many warnings Cass tries to give her in order to keep her safe, such as in Freebird, where she trusts two total strangers over her best friend because “it’ll be fun!” 

She often trusts people over Cass, who she’s known longer than many and was loyal to her. This issue of trust goes especially for Adira who--while being a good person in the end--does attack them during their initial meeting and for all they know could’ve been leading them to use as human sacrifices or toward any other dangers because she refused to be honest with them.  She doesn’t really start listening to Cass until after it’s already too late because she’d already shown she doesn’t have faith in her decisions several times over.

In Rapunzel and the Dark Tree, Raps uses a dark magic spell she knows she can’t control to defeat Hector despite the fact that she could’ve ended up killing her friends and herself as a result because she nearly did earlier. Cass warned her against this too, but remained by her side to protect her still when she didn’t listen. Sure enough, she burns Cass’ arm.

The point above is made worse in the episode, Rapunzel: Day One, because then Raps decides to blame Cass for getting injured and draws her looking like a monster as if she herself has a right to be angry.  (In contrast, Raps is shown to feel some--at least buried--guilt based on the events in Rapunzeltopia, but she never acts on it in a positive or healthy way.)  She also gets mad at Cass for not talking about what happened despite the fact that sometimes people need space before they can, constantly pushing what she wants and thinks Cass needs over Cass’ own choices until she loses her memory later in the episode.  Cass didn’t talk because she was ready: Cass talked to Raps because she felt guilty.  And why would she feel like she can talk to Raps anyway if Raps practically ignores everything she says? 

“But if she had just listened to me and stayed out of it,  this all could have been avoided!  And I feel like we could work things out,  but she refuses to talk about it!  Wow. Ugh, I didn't mean to make her look that angry.”

Last point that connects to the one above as well, Rapunzel is then made a total hypocrite for trying to force Cass to talk when she also needs time to sort out her feelings over Cass’ betrayal at the start of Season Three and does her own thing despite Eugene trying to be there for her--listening to no one, getting herself in trouble, and forcing people to come to her rescue as always.  

One point that I want to make clear is that I’m not saying these are bad character choices for Rapunzel: She’s been locked in a tower all her life, so it’s not reasonable to expect her to have the best social skills.  She hasn’t had friends until this series beyond Pascal and Eugene, so she doesn’t know how to handle a lot of situations. However, it should also be recognized that her behavior is often selfish and reactionary, and she hardly gets anything more than a slap on the wrist whenever she has to face the consequences of her actions--rarely growing from them and repeating the same mistakes time and time again. (Granted, this can also be pinned on bad writing.) She often pushes her values onto the people around her as well--with good intentions, sure, but good intentions aren’t synonymous with good choices.  By doing this, she’d taken advantage of Cass’ friendship and dismissed all of the sacrifices Cass has made for her sake.

“But I’m not that naïve girl in the tower anymore.” “I can take care of myself.”

Yes you are and no you can’t, you dimwit. You’ve still got a lot to learn, so get off your high horse and actually listen to someone instead of running off to dance over a cliff and picking up dark magic you were already warned about several times over. 

All of this can also sum up a great deal of why Cass feels the way she does.  She absolutely has a reason to be angry, but she still tries to do right by Rapunzel by staying at her side and continuing to warn her no matter how often she’s dismissed.  At that point though, even if she wanted go, she can’t because of her duty. Because of the promise she made to the king to protect Raps and because that’ll be her job still as a member of the guard. She can’t let her feelings get in the way or everything she’s done to be a part of the guard would crumble--not to mention she’d be working for Raps after she took the crown, so she’s effectively stuck.

I want you to imagine this in a smaller, slice-of-life scenario: You’re in your group of friends, but they never listen to you.  Whatever you want to do is set aside and whatever you say is ignored.  When they need help you go to them, but they rarely, if ever, return the favor.  You’re expected to give things up for them, but not the other way around.  You’re trying to push them forward while their dismissal of your thoughts and feelings only seems to hold you back.

You can’t constantly treat someone so poorly without them eventually getting sick of it.  Cass had Rapunzel’s largely one-sided “friendship,” a scarred beyond repair limb, people mocking her, and a future that seemed to repeat more of the same with no one ever taking her side.  The issue with Gothel being Cass’ mother and leaving her wasn’t strictly the cause of Cass’ betrayal: It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  

Now, Cass taking the Moonstone isn’t justified. Just because she’s been wronged doesn’t mean it’s ok for her to do the same and act reckless.  However, we can tell so far in Season Three that Cass and her emotions--pain, rage, and insecurity--are being manipulated.  She’s not outright malicious or evil as she doesn’t want to follow the “destiny” she’s been told to face by destroying Rapunzel, but now she thinks she’s got someone putting her first and giving her a chance to shine through the Enchanted Girl.  Maybe she even thinks that there’s no going back--the Moonstone does look like it’s now physically a part of her, again she’s being manipulated, and it would follow an arc similar to what Varian experienced.  

I’m not gonna make any guesses on if or how Cass could be redeemed: I just hope that, if she is, she’s not the only one apologizing like in Rapunzel: Day One. Cass’ actions are wrong, but there was a lot leading up to them.

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Allegiances || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || From the Beginning >>

Chapter 1

The black night sky was peppered with stars as Russetstar halted, raising her tail for her Clanmates to do the same. Her breath billowed before her eyes as she peered through the ferns. ShadowClan is the last to arrive, she thought with some annoyance, looking at the flitting shapes in the clearing. One of Fourtrees’s great oaks creaked ominously.

Russetstar looked back at her Clan. They were few in number compared to the other three Clans clustering below the Great Rock, and some still bore healing wounds from the battle with BloodClan two moons ago in this very clearing. More, though, bore fresher scratches. Russetstar narrowed her eyes.

“No cat speaks of the rogues,” she hissed. “Understood?”

Most of them nodded in understanding. The other Clans did not need to know about the problems on ShadowClan’s borders – not unless it concerned them. Which it did not. Russetstar wondered, though, if the other Clans suspected something anyway – her Clanmates were still leaf-bare thin while cats from WindClan, ThunderClan, and RiverClan were fattening as leaf-bare crawled slowly into newleaf.

ShadowClan has dealt with much worse than a few kittypet upstarts, Russetstar reflected.

“Why don’t we just ask another Clan to help?” wondered Stonepaw, his pale blue eyes bright in the night.

Around him the cats of ShadowClan bristled. Blackfoot, the cat Russetstar had chosen for her deputy, hissed, “ShadowClan doesn’t need help!”

Stonepaw narrowed his eyes indignantly.

“My order stands,” Russetstar repeated firmly, looking pointedly at her apprentice. He’s going to find it even harder to fit in if he keeps that sort of attitude, she thought. “I’ll have the whiskers of any cat who opens their mouth about it!”

Russetstar waited for a solid murmur of agreement before lifting her tail and plunging through the brittle ferns.

The clearing was full of bustling cats, all meowing greetings to ShadowClan as they mingled in with them. Pelts brushed pelts and noses touched, and Russetstar was still unsure of what to do about this newfound friendliness between the Clans. The battle with BloodClan had certainly changed their relations, especially after the tensions caused by Bluestar and her horrible schemes.

Russetstar frowned, thinking of it. Bluestar had once been a ThunderClan warrior, Bluefur – almost single-pawed she nearly destabilized the entire forest. She killed many ThunderClan cats in her ambition to be leader, conned her way into being ShadowClan’s leader, and forced ShadowClan and RiverClan into a joint alliance that went against the whole of the warrior code. It had all culminated when, in an attempt to force WindClan and ThunderClan to join them, Bluestar had brought a group of Twolegplace cats called BloodClan into the forest.

Bluestar had been brutally killed by their leader, Scorch; and, in the end, all four Clans had united to drive out Scorch and BloodClan from the forest.

Russetstar swallowed uncomfortably. Some of it was my own fault, she thought guiltily. She had been one of Bluestar’s followers – and one of Brokentail’s before her. It had left her homeless and broken-hearted, and Russetstar regretted everything about it. ShadowClan will grow from our mistakes, she had vowed at her nine lives ceremony, grateful that StarClan had even granted her one life, let alone all nine. I will make us better. Stronger. In the right ways.

She forced herself back into the present. Russetstar knew the Gathering would be starting soon – the other Clan leaders were making their way to the Great Rock, their deputies following. Not one of those deputies had served more than two moons – the battle with BloodClan and the turmoil in the forest had rid the Clans of every deputy they had. Mudclaw now served WindClan, and Oakheart was Tinystar of ThunderClan’s new deputy. Tawnypelt walked alongside Leopardstar, her tail-tip flicking.

Russetstar let her eyes rest on Leopardstar. She had been absent from the previous Gathering, and Russetstar knew that many cats wondered why. Yet she looked well now, with her chin up and eyes glinting with that RiverClan pride.

Many times Russetstar wondered if she ought to ask after Leopardstar – after Bluestar’s death, she and Leopardstar had led both RiverClan and ShadowClan together – but after the battle Leopardstar had shut herself off from the friends she’d made in other Clans. Russetstar would have been more disappointed if she didn’t know that such behavior wasn’t already in Leopardstar’s nature.

It still made Russetstar’s fur itch with envy. Not far away, Tinystar and Tallstar, the leader of WindClan, were walking side-by-side, pelts brushing. How could ThunderClan and WindClan maintain such good relations when Russetstar was forced to give up a good friend?

The Clans aren’t meant to be close, she reminded herself. Friendships outside of one’s own Clan are doomed to fade away. Even Tinystar and Tallstar’s closeness would disappear like dew in the sunshine sooner or later. All it took was putting one paw across the wrong border at the wrong time.

Russetstar began heading towards the Great Rock. She kept her ears pricked, catching snippets of conversation – mostly, she was trying to hear what her own cats were saying. So far, all she was picking up were guarded comments about how prey just wasn’t running well yet in the marshes. Nothing about the tenuousness of their borders.

Not yet, anyway.

Russetstar peered through the crowd. She was looking for one cat in particular… ah – there he was. Stonepaw was with a group of apprentices from all four Clans, sitting close to a dark blue-gray she-cat. His sister from ThunderClan, Mistypaw. The way the two touched noses and curled their tails together made Russetstar’s stomach clench.

I can’t blame them for wanting to be close, she told herself. Stonepaw had made a big decision two moons ago, pledging himself to ShadowClan and leaving ThunderClan, where he had been born. Not only that, but during the battle with BloodClan Stonepaw and Mistypaw lost their sister, Mosspaw, to a vicious BloodClan tom. It still haunted the young apprentices. But Stonepaw’s loyalty was still questioned by ShadowClan’s senior warriors, and if any of them saw…

Russetstar frowned, feeling badly for her apprentice as she climbed up the Great Rock. Beyond all of the troubles of acclimating to ShadowClan life, Stonepaw and Mistypaw were Bluestar’s kits. No matter their Clan, there would always be cats that suspected them of following in their mother’s dark pawsteps.

Tallstar raised his voice the moment Russetstar settled beside him: “Let the Gathering begin!”

The entire clearing fell silent. Dozens of eyes looked up at the four cats standing together on the Great Rock, wide and eager for news. Russetstar swallowed. It had been overwhelming, standing here for the first time last moon – but now she felt like she could handle her part without stumbling over her words.

“WindClan has good news to share,” Tallstar meowed, his voice tinged with pride. “Ashfoot has given birth to three kits – the kits of Deadfoot, our late deputy. WindClan is honored to have them.”

Murmurs of surprise and delight rippled through the crowd. Russetstar twitched her whiskers. Deadfoot had been an honorable cat – it was good that his memory would live on somehow.

Tallstar went on: “Barkface has also taken on an apprentice. Ryepaw will be WindClan’s next medicine cat!”

Russetstar looked down at the medicine cats, huddled amongst the roots of one of the great oaks, as the Clans called out Ryepaw’s name. The WindClan cat was very small, and his pale fur still looked kit-soft. He definitely doesn’t have the legs to make it running the moors, Russetstar thought. Gathering herbs would be a much easier duty for him.

Tallstar nodded, indicating that he was done. Leopardstar spoke next, her voice rising high above the cry of an owl in the distance: “RiverClan life moves on despite the cold. We have kits in the nursery and elders in our dens, and Dawnpaw has received her warrior name – Dawnflower.”

“Dawnflower!” the Clans cheered. “Dawnflower!”

Leopardstar raised her tail for silence. She finished: “I am in full health now, and RiverClan flows strong like the waters around us.”

When Leopardstar’s narrow yellow eyes bored into Russetstar, the smaller she-cat suppressed a flinch. Clearing her throat, Russetstar meowed: “ShadowClan hasn’t much news. Nightpaw has been named Nightwing, and Tallpoppy has had a good kitting.”

For a long moment, while the Clans were cheering for Nightwing and Tallpoppy, Russetstar wondered if she should speak about the rogues pushing at ShadowClan’s borders. She wondered what might happen. Would her Clan think her weak? A hypocrite? Russetstar kept her jaws firmly shut and nodded to Tinystar.

The ThunderClan leader was, bizarrely, one of the smallest cats in the forest – at half the size of a full-grown cat, no one would think he’d been the one to rally the four Clans and defeat Scorch and BloodClan, let alone save ThunderClan from Bluestar. Yet Russetstar knew that behind those calm ice-blue eyes was an unsettling temper, and fierce love for the Clan that brought him from his kittypet roots.

“Ashpaw, Fernpaw, and Snowpaw have received their warrior names,” Tinystar meowed. “They are now Ashfur, Ferncloud, and Snowstep!”

“Ashfur! Ferncloud! Snowstep!” the Clans yowled.

Tinystar meowed on: “Frostfur has decided to move to the elder’s den. We wish her many long moons of rest.”

“Frostfur! Frostfur!”

Tinystar’s eyes scanned the crowd as his tail lifted for silence. Russetstar shifted on her paws. There was something in that gaze of his – and the other leaders could sense it, too. Tallstar’s tail flicked, and Leopardstar narrowed her eyes at Tinystar.

When all was silent, the small black tom meowed: “Cats of all Clans, hear me: ThunderClan has been noticing a recent increase in kittypet and rogue activity on our borders with Twolegplace. Not all of the interactions have been malicious. We believe that groups of old BloodClan cats are trying to push back and get revenge on us for the battle two moons ago.”

Russetstar frowned. Is ThunderClan facing the same problem as we are? She wondered. But ThunderClan was sleek and fattening – clearly these intruders weren’t a threat to ThunderClan’s prey.

“I want us all to consider something important,” Tinystar swept on. “The root of BloodClan’s hatred for the forest, and for us, came from our Clans’ constant rejection of outsiders who want the opportunity to become Clan cats themselves. I think that, following the battle with BloodClan, we cannot ignore the potential of these rogues, loners, and even kittypets – we must cast aside our prejudice!”

Tinystar looked out at the Clan cats, all stunned to silence at his words. Russetstar’s heart pounded in her ears. What are you doing, you mouse-brained ThunderClan rat?! She thought, her claw sliding in and out anxiously.

“We must change the warrior code!” Tinystar declared.

[mariequitecontrarie]

A Bridge of Hope: A Rumbelle “Missing” Scene

Summary: Gideon teleports from the cabin in anger, rejecting his parents, and Belle and Rumplestiltskin face each other and their fears. Rating: T  Word Count: 2,000 A/N: After watching the Season 6 deleted scenes, I was inspired to write this angst and hurt/comfort “bridge” fic; it’s meant to immediately following the deleted cabin scene from 6x11, Tougher than the Rest. I felt like it helped set up the Rumbelle conversation at the well better, so there’s not such a sudden jump from strife to accord. Here’s the deleted cabin scene for reference: (x) Thanks to @rowofstars for reading over this for me, and helping with the title!

Also on AO3

Their son vanishes into thin air once more, rejecting them both, and when Belle looks at Rumple, the despair choking her heart is reflected in his eyes.

A defeated sigh escapes her lips. She knows it looks as though she came here spoiling for a fight, strong-arming her way into the cabin and using Zelena, David, and Killian as a means to an end. Oh, she’s learned a thing or two from being Rumplestiltskin’s wife. But the last thing she wants is to be her husband’s enemy.

No, she didn’t come here looking for a fight. She came here looking for hope.

All she wants Rumple to say is that he’ll help her stop Gideon from descending into darkness. She can’t bear to watch their son suffer and repeat their mistakes; he’s so young despite his gangly appearance, so tender and impressionable. Too innocent to be filled with such unbridled hatred.

Head down, Belle peeks at Rumple through lowered lashes, wondering what he’s thinking. There was a time when they wanted the same things for their children. Nights when they used to lie in the dark together and dream of making a home and a family, talk about raising their babies to become people of love, courage, strength of heart. Those hopes and plans are dashed to broken shards now, and they’re stumbling on separate paths through an endless nightmare of their own making.

A wave of dizziness comes over her, buzzing in her ears like a swarm of angry bees, and she staggers toward Rumple. His arms come out to steady her, his hands warm and sure against her shoulders. She’s uncertain of her footing, of everything, really. Again she falters, the edges of her vision shadowed and blurry, and she catches the faintest hint of worry in his eyes. A moment later the emotion is gone as he watches David and Killian through a cold gaze and a haughty jaw.

Gideon and Rumple are right to be furious with her for bringing them here. “Good people” indeed; they’ve helped her do more harm than good today and she wishes she’d never involved them.

“Belle.”

David’s voice from behind her is laced with regret. She doesn’t turn around to address him, doesn’t want to hear his halfhearted, mumbled apologies. Now she knows that where her family is concerned, the others can never really be trusted. When it comes to her child, there are no heroes and villains.

“Just go,” she says, at last turning around to face David and Killian as Rumple drops his hands from her shoulders. Killian’s eyes are glued to the floor, but David’s cheeks are mottled with embarrassment; at least he has the grace to look ashamed for the double-crossing stunt with Zelena. Belle tilts her head toward the door in dismissal. “Please.”

“If you’re sure.” David glances at her and his gaze narrows toward Rumple, as if fearing he will devour her like a rabid wolf.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up at the absurd circumstances, and Belle swallows the discordant sound. She’s grown weary of everyone’s repeated insinuations that she needs protection. No matter what shocking thing he may do or say, she is not afraid of Rumplestiltskin. She shifts closer to her husband.

The door closes behind David and Killian with a soft thud of finality, and Belle sways again, this time stumbling backwards, her back coming in contact with the strong wall of Rumple’s chest.

“Belle?” His voice is soft now, a warm whisper against the back of her neck, even warmer than the fur coat and hat she wears to keep the frigid air at bay. He’d given her the set for her last birthday and wearing them makes her feel powerful, like she’s perfectly fine that it’s over between them.  Armor takes many forms.

She turns around and steps away, love and attraction warring with common sense. Rumple has cast her aside to flirt with darker temptations. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, blocking out the image of the Evil Queen keeping him warm at night. The room spins, and Belle tries to focus on a far spot on the wall, afraid to meet Rumple’s eyes, terrified to see his contempt.

Nausea makes her gut churn and she fights against her tight chest for a clean breath of air.

“Are you all right?”

Her gaze flies to his face. Rumple’s mouth is set in a grim line, his closed expression revealing little of his true feelings. He’s always been most comfortable wearing a mask, and the realization that he wears one for her now makes her teeth chatter despite the cozy warmth of the cabin.

“Yes,” she manages through parched, trembling lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last thing she remembers is his urgent brown eyes hovering above her.

xoxo

She awakens in their bed—now his bed—at the cabin, a cool, soft cloth draped across her forehead.

Rumple is perched on a chair beside the bed, fidgeting. Her coat and hat are gone and the top three buttons of her shirt are undone. With trembling fingers she closes the gaping blouse. The tattoo of his name beneath her breasts scalds her skin, and she traces the inked scrollwork beneath the fabric. She wonders if he spied the mark on her body when he loosened her clothing, an impulse decision when he left for the Underworld. Before everything went wrong, she couldn’t wait for him to discover it; to watch his eyes to grow wide with pleasure at the knowledge that she’d branded herself as his. The tattoo has become a searing reminder of her misplaced faith in their love, but she can’t bring herself to regret it.

“You fainted,” he confirms, and averts his eyes from her body.

“I forgot to eat today.” She flushes. The excuse sounds lame and silly.

He’d called her a hypocrite, and denial leaped to her lips because she knows he’s right. She’d been fooled once again; David and Killian had aligned with Zelena against her. Pathetic, gullible Belle. All alone in the world. No friends, no husband, and thanks to her rash stupidity, no son.

He hands her a packet of crackers, insisting she take one. She nibbles, allowing the bit of food to melt on her tongue. It tastes like sawdust.

“Better now?” he asks.

His tenderness makes tears spring to her eyes, and she purses her lips and nods. It’s a lie, of course. Nothing is all right. The air between them is thick with bitter tension, and she crushes the cracker in her hands to crumbs, not knowing how to bridge the chasm.

“Do you still intend to use the shears to cleave our son from his fate?” He rubs his fingers together, staring at the bedspread.

“No. But I don’t know what to do,” she croaks, struggling against the dryness in her throat. A moment later, he presses a cool glass of water into her hands, and she props herself on one elbow to take a grateful swallow. She looks at him for a long moment, then says, “Why do you want to keep Gideon on this dark path?”

He chuckles, a rueful, hollow sound. “All you care about is making sure our son is nothing like me.”

The words are a pained, feeble whisper, and she grasps his hand, more desperate than angry even though he evaded the question. This man she loves is so much more than mere darkness.

“No. No, I want our son to be like you in all the ways that matter. I want him to have your intelligence, your wit, your humor. I want him to be like the real you.” She pleads with him to understand. “Not…not like this.”

“What if this is the real me?” The steel is back in his glare, challenging her. Fathomless eyes that have seen too much and borne such pain, wrestling with the demons within.

In spite of all the hurt he’s caused, she cannot allow him to believe so little of himself.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

xoxo

He looks away from Belle’s searching gaze, focusing instead on the delicate pattern of her hair fanning out across the pillow at her back. “Even so,” he chides. “You don’t trust me to do what’s best for our son.”

“I-I want to trust you. If you could just give me a straight answer. Do you want Gideon to kill Emma?” she asks, sitting up in bed.

Sheer stubbornness causes him to hesitate before answering. Belle won’t believe him no matter what he says, and although he cannot blame her, he’s tired, so tired of explaining himself. “I want him to fulfill his destiny.”

“What if that means…” A lone tear slips down Belle’s cheek, causing his already broken heart to splinter.

His disgust at her arrival at the cabin was aimed at the pirate and the prince, but he’d taken it out on her and tried to pit their son against his mother. In his anger, he’d reminded the boy that Belle was the one who had given him away and allowed the Black Fairy to steal him. As though he had been innocent. As though his intentions had been honorable.

When Gideon had arrived and announced his plans to kill Emma Swan and become the new Savior, he was the one who suggested working together, and then they’d both stalked off to find Gideon on their own. Not once did they ask each other for advice or input, but if they have any hope of helping their son, they both need to bend.

Belle fainting scared the hell out of him. She was only unconscious for a few minutes, but each ticking second felt like an eternity. He worries for her health and safety, but the terror he feels is mostly for himself, of how much he still loves her. Loves her kindness, her brave spirit, her unfailing optimism. He knew she would come here, had wanted her to seek him out not only for Gideon’s sake, but for himself. His instinct for self-preservation is long gone—like a wayward child who lashes out at his parents for attention, he would rather endure her wrath and angry words than never feel the sun again.

Belle is crying in earnest, her face covered by her hands. She drops back onto the pillows and curls onto her side, sobbing and shaking as tears roll down her fingers and patter onto the bedspread. He rises from the chair next to the bed and removes his overcoat, then walks to the other side of the bed and lays down. He opens his arms.

She needs him now, just as he needs her. Not as a lover or a spouse, but as a fellow parent, a friend.

She scoots toward him, burrowing against his chest and tucking her head under his chin. He holds her close as she cries, splaying his fingers across her narrow back to cover as much of her as possible, as though eclipsing her body with his own will protect her from the pain.

They cry and rock together for a long time, and it feels so good, this giving and accepting of solace. Finally, she lifts her head from his chest and stares at him with wet, bloodshot eyes. A watery smile curves her lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He returns the smile. “I needed this, too.”

“Our son has your eyes.” She sniffles and curls her fingers into his damp shirt.

“So he does.” He strokes her back, not ready to let her go. Not today. Not ever. “Do you mind?” Do you hate being reminded of me when you look at our child?

She shakes her head. “Of course not. I’ve always loved your eyes.”

Relief floods him, and something more—the desire to promise her that somehow, some way, he’ll steer Gideon back toward the light.

Before he can speak, Belle’s phone rings, and she pulls away from him, sitting up to take the call. He can’t hear the voice on the other end, but the alarm in her wide blue eyes tells him the news isn’t good.

She ends the call and drops the phone into her lap. “That was Granny. Gideon is in the town square,” she says. “Waiting for Emma.”

“All right.” He nods his head, resolute, and gathers her coat as well as his own.

It’s time to dry their tears and rescue their son.

###