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treatian · 2 years

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: Fathers and Sons

Chapters 58: The Dark One’s Assistant

They didn't really have time to spare, but he'd seen the importance of taking time to let Belle calm down. She was his motivation. She was his family. And family had always been his core motivation for everything he'd ever done. It was hard to believe that his original plans had been to make a proposal so that declaration would be recognized by all the world. But it didn't matter. Ring or not, he saw her as so much more than a wife. If today was his last and the prophecy came to pass, the fact that he hadn't gotten to ask her formally would certainly be one of his biggest regrets. But to do it now…

It wasn't the right time because there wasn't any time. Her heart rate had stabilized minutes ago. She was calm, girded, he hoped, for what was to come. What was to come was here, or at least it would be the second they left.

"We can't stay here any longer," he finally suggested sadly.

She gave a small nod before finally picking her head up off of his shoulder. He was nearly pushing himself up when he felt her hand along his cheek, and she drew him close and kissed him. It was deep and enticing. And if he had a choice, he'd seal them off in this room and lay her down and make time for-

"We're going to fix this," she muttered when she broke away all too quickly. "And we're going to come back here, and finish that!"

Gods, yes. That was the motivation he needed.

"I love you," he nodded in acknowledgment before kissing her forehead.

"And I love you, too," she echoed perfectly. And before either could say anything else, they rose from the bed. They each finished their dressing, though he had yet to acknowledge that he'd done it just so that he could keep busy while she did it. Then he took her hand, walked her out of the bedroom, picked up the bag he'd left at the bottom of the stairs, and left the house to drive to the shop. He was vigilant as he drove, checking left and right for any sign of Pan in Henry's body or the Shadow. Nothing appeared in the dead of night, and he parked as close as he could to the Shop instead of his usual spot.

He told himself he'd feel better when he had Belle safe in his shop, and he was serious about it. The shop had every protection he could afford it, more than the house did. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the shop was safe as it could be. But it was empty. No one was waiting out front for them when they arrived. They weren't the only ones who had taken advantage of some time, it seemed.

"Do you need anything?" Belle asked him as he began to spread the items he'd brought out on the back table.

"No," he sighed, placing the bag under the table. "There are a few things I need to remind myself about concerning the Curse and the Black Fairy's wand."

The moment he mentioned it, there was a palpable pause between them he'd not shared with the others at the grave. They didn't know. They didn't need to know. Dealing with one of his parents was enough for one day. But Belle…Belle knew what it was to him, what it would mean.

"Are you okay with what you have to do?" she finally asked quietly.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"After the last time you met…and your relationship being what it is-"

"I won't be upset if that's what you mean. This is hardly a time for petty childhood grudges."

"It's hardly a grudge, Rumple. She's…she's your mother! And after what she did to you, are you really okay using her wand to-"

"Of course," he interrupted, managing to keep his voice calm. "It's one of the perks of our relationship, why I can use the wand for this spell. Blood recognizes blood."

"No, Rumple…" she gave a frustrated sigh and tugged on his arm, pulling his attention away from the book in front of him. "If you do this, will you be all right?"

He let go of a breath and released the frustration that her interrogating had built up. She wasn't questioning because she doubted his idea. She was questioning it because she was worried about him. Even with her fear of her own sanity at risk, she was worried about him. She was worried what effect this brief interaction between him and his mother, no matter how round about it was, would have on him. Hell, given his feelings on the subject, he understood why she was worried. He was worried. But given the trouble with one of his parents, stopping him using the other was almost too deliciously ironic to pass up.

"I'll be fine once my father is under control. And so long as you remain at my side."

She smiled as she nodded. "I won't leave," she promised, then lifted herself up on her toes to give him a quick kiss. That assurance had him feeling relief.

"You should rest," he urged when she settled back onto the floor, and he noted the way she swayed. It had been a long night. The sun would come up soon. He didn't need sleep, but she did, and she should really get some while she still could before the others showed up. But Belle shook her head.

"I don't know if I can."

"Just try. I'll be here all night, and it's hard to tell when you'll get an opportunity to again."

She considered that. He could see her consider it as she glanced at the cot, but he knew even before she said it, just from the way her eyes roamed over the shop, that she wasn't going to do it.

"I think I'd rather clean something…"

His breath hitched at the notion. It was a silly reaction, especially given their situation and that every time she cleaned, his life did seem to shine a little brighter. But cleaning and busy work from her in a time like this…

"Don't worry," she chuckled, looking back at him. "I won't move anything, and I won't leave the shop. I just need something to do with my hands."

Another involuntary hitching of breath. Despite the emergency at hand, his mind knew exactly what he'd been hoping those hands would be doing tonight, and if he didn't focus his attention on something else immediately, then he'd begin to show it in a very private place that he'd regret if the others came bursting in. It was a good time to get back to work.

"I trust you," he excused before turning to look at the book he'd brought with him.

The spell of the Displaced Soul was not complex. It required the paste, an identifier, and a blocker all at once. In theory, so long as Pan's body contained that paste after Henry's soul left his body, it would draw Pan's soul back to it and prevent Henry's from reentering the body. It was meant to be more of a torturous spell, used to expel a soul from its body and then keep it from returning, but in this case, it worked in their favor. Of course, the second that Pan sensed the paste upon him, he could always wipe it off, but…he had an idea for that too.

Belle was in the outer room when he fetched something he hadn't thought he'd have need of for quite some time. Cora's cuffs. If his ability to scent magic was correct, then Regina had a pair of them used on her not too long ago, and there was a reason for that. They were effective. The vindictive bitch, much to his pride and regret, had been a formidable sorceress. Cora had invented several of these beauties, designed to repel outside magic and keep the magic one possessed trapped in the body. Once Henry was gone from Pan's body, they'd need some way to make sure that he couldn't use his magic. And once it was on, Pan wouldn't be able to remove it himself, which meant that if he put the paste on the underside of it, then that should be all that was necessary to trap him.

They'd get Henry back. Regina would destroy the curse. And they…

They'd go home.

He hadn't thought of that until now, not really. He hadn't perceived it for the imminent event that it was, but if all went according to plan…

He looked around his shop, his warm and cozy little back room. Yes, it was small. Yes, it was filled to the brim with objects both helpful and unhelpful. Compared to his tower in their world, he should be happy to see it go, and yet-

A bang from out in the front of the shop had him jumping and nearly lunging for Belle. But when he heard her steps calm upon the floor, he knew better. The others had arrived. There would be time for wallowing about the destruction of Storybrooke later, preferably when he was back at his castle before a fire in the Great Room with Belle imagining all the wonderful things his son would be doing with Emma and Henry. It wasn't how he'd thought all of this would end, but if that was the image he needed to conjure in order to do what needed to be done, then…so be it.

"Sorry we're late," he heard Emma state as he felt Belle open the door and she rushed into the space. She appeared in the back room only a few seconds later with Henry, still in his father's body, Mary Margaret, and Regina. "Regina thought of something, and we had to check it out. Gold, Felix is gone."

There was some shock with that sentence, but no more than the realization that before the night was up, they'd be back in the Enchanted Forest. When he really stopped to consider all that had happened and all that would need to happen, it was a natural thing that Felix should be missing. After all, nothing meant more to his father than loyalty. And Felix had been the most loyal of them all.

"Well, of course, he is, Miss Swan," he sighed, looking back down at the book and considering how much time it would take him to make the paste; five minutes if he stirred by hand, two if he used magic. "The question is: has her Majesty explained to you why that is?"

He wasn't looking, he was too busy and uninterested, but he did feel the weight of attention in the room shift away from him.

"I assumed it would be you he came for!" Regina stated, sounding almost annoyed that he hadn't. "What with your…history and all…"

"Not likely," he corrected. "Felix was always the far more suitable candidate. Though your concern is touching."

"Wait, what are we talking about?" Emma pressed. "Why is Felix missing?"

Regina sighed. "The Curse requires the heart of the thing the caster loves most," she explained.

He looked up at the small intake of breath that Mary Margaret let out. "That's why your father isn't in Storybrooke!" she exclaimed.

"You killed your own father?!" Emma balked at the news.

He had to admit, he was impressed that they'd put that together as fast as they had.

"I did what I had to do, that is not the point now!" Regina snapped. "The point is what or who Pan used to cast this Curse! I assumed…"

His former pupil made a motion in his direction that made assumptions perfectly clear, not that they hadn't been before, but still, they were irrelevant. He wasn't the one his father would have chosen. He'd been a thorn in his side since he'd been born. The Shadow, in fact, would have been the most likely candidate, but since it didn't have a heart, then Felix or one of the other Lost Boys would have been next on the list.

"Well, Felix is gone," Emma said into the silence. "We've accounted for all the other lost boys…Gold, what do we do."

"There's nothing to be done, Miss Swan!" he pointed out as he fought not to roll his eyes. He knew that she liked to save the day, that her instinct would be to go out there and find Felix, to stop this from happening, but if they could do that, then they wouldn't have opted for the plan they were currently in the middle of carrying out. It had taken him more than a hundred years to get the Curse to align in the Enchanted Forest, and now she was about to learn the hardest part of that plan…waiting. "Felix is gone and there is no chance of stopping Pan from casting the Curse. Our only hope now rests with Regina and Henry. We remain here until the others retrieve the wand, in the meantime, everything that can be done has been done.

"I know your skill in the art of patience is minimal, but I think you'll find now is the perfect time to practice."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the shop as they all stared at one another. Then Emma let out a sigh, and sank down onto the cot, holding her head in her hands.

He knew that feeling well.

"Henry!" Regina called, bringing his attention to the boy striding back through the curtain into the shop. To do what he didn't know but Regina followed after him, leaving the pair unsupervised in the shop.

"Let her take care of it," Mary Margaret said to Emma. "You have enough on your mind at the moment."

So did he, not the least of which was Regina in his shop when he had to make this paste-

His eyes fell on Belle, and for one brief moment, he knew that she was entirely aware of every thought that he had. She offered a small smile, then a slight nod, and followed the pair of them out into the shop with her broom. It wasn't ideal, but he trusted her. If he couldn't be in two places at once, he was fine with Belle being his representative. As for him, he had a paste to make and a bracelet to coat.

#Rumbelle #Rumpelstiltskin #Rumple #Dark One #Mr. Gold #Belle #Emma Swan #Savior #Regina Mills #Evil Queen #henry Mills #Peter pan #Mary Margaret Blanchard #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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pseudofaux · 4 years

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Some more Spicey comte for tipseu? I love that man ❤️

MORE COMTE 4 TIPSEU 4 YOU! 😍😍😍😍😍 Thank you for requesting this, I really really really love him and writing him feels so indulgent I feel bad doing it unless someone is kind enough to ask and let me release the kraken 🤣 (love makes me very stupid, I am sorry)

This turned out longer than I planned but it gets there, I promise!

is Comte a PPG? WHAT IS HE NOT, I ASK YOU

“You’ve put a stop to all my admiring you,” she pouts with a grin. He smiles over her in their bed and the warmth in it curls her toes. He is so full of joy these days, like some door has been thrown forever open and the sunlight in his heart is escaping onto the world at last. He has somehow become more generous, better natured. This is a thing she has learned love can do.

He has also become slightly—only slightly— less sly, and more openly playful.

“Please forgive me,” he begs, ducking his head to chase her mouth for kisses. “I simply” kiss “needed” kiss “to admire you” kiss “instead”.

When she laughs, he cups her face and kisses her cheeks, her lips, her teeth. There’s something freeing her own happiness in their love, as well. These days her joy feels like an endless dawn that shift colors and gives way to delight after delight. .

His breath becomes heavy and she can feel him against her, aroused— always, she now knows and marvels— and insistent in a way that is less polite than he would like, but precisely as needy as she likes. It is a powerful thing, to be desired by a man she desires so much.

“What should we do today?” she asks, putting her arms in their place around his neck.

Le Comte de Saint Germain hums his particular, thoughtful hum, and she has to try not to giggle because if she does that in their bed he will tickle her until she screams and then he will apologize by biting her while he is sheathed by her body (until she screams), and then nothing else will get done that day at all.

It wouldn’t be so bad. But it’s a lovely day and she wants to go to town with him.

“What would you like, mon coeur? I don’t imagine you will let me take you shopping.”

He is grinning, and she cannot help but do the same.

“Maybe I will surprise you,” she offers, and rolls toward the edge of their mattress even as her heart and sex cry rebellion against such foolishness. Denial now for satisfaction later, she reminds herself. To dress instead of returning to bed is a torture only lessened by the hungry way he watches her, and by the soft kiss he lays on the back of her neck when she is done.

—|—

A carriage ride and a boulangerie visit later (they buy only four baguettes and le Comte pays an obscene amount to have them delivered to the mansion so they do not have to carry them), she agrees to accompany him to a boutique. He was handsy in the bakery, pressing all advantage in the quiet shop. His palms found their way around her waist when the cheerful shopkeep turned to slip their bread into a bag, and he kissed the back of her hand before escorting her out the door.

So it is for their own good that she lets him take her into a dress shop before he scandalizes someone. Or before she does, not discouraging his behavior. Thankfully, the bored looking young man there to greet them at the door quickly smartens up when he sees her companion, and ushers them immediately to a private side room. A female attendant tells them she will be in to assist madame when they call for her.

The room is all warm wood and green velvet, with a pretty screen done in darker wood and champagne silk. There’s a small raised platform for her to stand on for measurements and pinning. There’s also a couch of deepest emerald green, and le Comte de Saint-Germain sits on one side and beckon-begs her to join him there.

“What should I try on?” she teases. “Something with a thousand buttons? What are you considering?”

“I am considering the virtue of ravishing you on this settee or asking you to bend over its back, my dear,” he whispers. “Do you have a preference?”

His easy way of promising exactly what she wants goes straight to a low place between her hips. She’s not sure she has it in herself to deny him now, but it will be better—she knows it will be better— if she can. So she calls in the attendant and tells her she would like to look at gowns in brown and blue.

“What game are you playing?” he rasps in her ear as soon as the other woman has left. His body is already over hers on the emerald velvet. “You have not told me the rules, and you know you have made me quite stupid with love, chérie.”

His skillful hands do not touch her waist and cherish her neck as though they are stupid. She is not fooled. “I suppose it is a waiting game,” she tells him. “Until you cannot wait any longer. But do not frighten the employees.”

He calls her a cruel beauty and kisses her slowly and deeply until just before there is a knock at the door and a soft announcement of entry.

She goes to the screen, where the attendant helps her take off the dress she has worn and try on the first gown, lovely brown satin that gleams in daylight and must look even lovelier in a ballroom at night. The woman respectfully takes her hand and helps her onto the little platform in the middle of the room, then adjusts a nearby mirror.

A mirror. Oh.

Their eyes lock as though they have noticed it together, and she hopes they have. A mirror changes things. Perhaps one dress more and they will dismiss the attendant. But only if she can make it that long! There is so much devilish heat in le Comte’s gaze, his brows low and eyes narrow, and any minute she expects him to put one of the knuckles of his beautiful fingers between his lips to test her resolve.

“I like this,” she blurts out, then recovers herself with an apologetic smile. “But I will need to discuss it with my husband. Could you give us a few moments, please?”

The attendant curtsies and gestures to a bell on a small table by the door, and tells them they need only ring whenever they are ready for her to return. She is respectful but clearly not new to this job. She leaves immediately once madame establishes she does not need help back to the floor. And then they are alone in a private room in a dress shop with a mirror.

“Ma femme,” he says, spreading his legs. “Come sit with me and let us discuss this gown.”

“As you say, mon mari,” she says, and carefully steps onto the floor and toward him. As she expects, he is on his feet and pulling her to him before she has taken two steps. His hand is pressed into the hair pinned behind her head, and his mouth his wet against her jaw— her throat— he is moving so quickly her brain cannot register his kisses as quickly as he makes them.

He turns her around, facing the mirror, and begins to undo the line of buttons at her back. He mutters a very low class curse and she puts a hand in front of her mouth to stifle her laughter. When he is in this gentleman’s panic, her sweet Comte, he says the silliest things.

At last, she is free of the dress, and he holds out a hand to help her be steady as she steps out of it, and his other hand gathers it from her feet and tosses the gown onto the seat. It’s even lovelier against the dark green, like a seam of soil in nourished grass. She knows he likes these thoughts, so she shares them.

He says something else shockingly, delightfully rude about a seam he would prefer to see, and then the game is clearly up. In the next moment he’s slipped in front of her, tilted her back over his arm, and put his other hand up her combinations without further preamble.

“You know,” he says onto her collarbone, and then he licks her as though it punctuates his quiet speech, “that it gives me great joy to see you in new dresses.”

“Is that true?” she tries to make the tease airy but his thumb and forefinger are gently, directly rolling a very sensitized part of her between them, and she can’t keep her voice even. He laughs right onto her skin, dark as his gaze from earlier, and she whimpers to get everything she wants so easily. His finger is already pushing inside her, making her feel like she could melt wax with the barest touch.

“There are few greater joys in this world,” he promises, turning them like they are dancing despite the location of his hand. She knows exactly where he’s putting her. When he moves behind her she is only surprised to see how rumpled her reflection is, and has to hope that’s from after the attendant left the room.

“There is one greater joy I am thinking of in particular,” he whispers from behind her. He is not hiding any of the desire in his voice, and she leans against him more heavily, already addicted. She doesn’t think she could tease him if she tried, and she is glad his fingers are working in earnest and not teasing her, either. She has wanted him since before they were flirting in bed.

He kisses her shoulder without breaking their eye contact in the mirror. She feels the tinest, most divine scrape of his fangs, small as needles. They raise heat, not blood. He’s so careful with this.

“When you fall apart,” he says without ever closing his mouth, “Now there is no greater joy than that.”

Her hand clutches at his forearm and her hips move forward toward the mess he is making, then back toward the unmistakable length trapped between their bodies. She fights the instinct to close her eyes and keeps watching the reflection of him loving her. Even over their breathing she can hear the wet, furtive squelch as his fingers spread wide when they leave her body, then push back inside, quicker than a mortal man could move.

“This precise moment,” he tells her, moving his thumb over her like a practiced string player. “Here.” And it is. She sags back against him and he kisses and praises her, lists the things he loves about her body until she covers his mouth with her hand and he kisses that instead.

“Please buy me the brown dress,” she says, “and take me home.”

He tells her it will be his pleasure. They are still in the carriage when he shows her how.

#ikevamp comte #ikevam comte #ikevamp fanfic #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #tipseu

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

But Once a Year (4/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

————

Rating: T Word Count: Another 9K or so, but with feelings AN: I had every intention of posting this on actual Christmas, but there was a Doctor Who marathon on and, well—I got distracted by other time travel. Hopefully my timelines are more consistent than River Song’s. Sorry, River Song. Here’s a whole bunch of kissing and feeling feelings.

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll || Or start from the start

————

“Were you ever actually going to paint?”

No eyebrow movement that time, although Killian’s actual eyes widen ever so slightly and that particular reaction is starting to do dangerous things to Emma's ego. He keeps his coffee mug hovering just above his lips, which she’s certain is a carefully calculated ploy to also keep her staring at his lips, but that’s not all that difficult and she’d spent at least seven full minutes kissing those same lips senseless that morning.

In bed.

The one they’ve slept in — for four days straight now, which is probably more time than it should be, but he was right. Falling asleep with his arm around her is far easier than the opposite, and he only occasionally complains about the frost-like tendencies of her feet. Mostly into the back of her neck. That’s just where his mouth ends up.

So, everything is still going great. Not potentially problematic. Because neither Regina nor Tinker Bell have come up with a working time-travel theory, and Emma’s baking endeavors haven’t gone over all that well either, but she’s discovered Killian’s tendency for stealing batter, and that’s even more ridiculously endearing information that’s only sort of skewing with her sense of reality, and— “Is this you volunteering?”

Startling, Emma almost forgot she’d asked a question. His mouth does something else. Stupid, and distracting and he uses almond milk in his coffee.

Claims it’s a modern convenience he’s more than willing to take advantage of.

Great, great, excellent. Possibly falling towards something, in a free-fall sort of way, and Emma shakes her head. Brushes away dangerous thoughts and hard-drawn lines in the much more metaphorical sand, and she wonders if sand ever lingers in their entry way during the summer.

They must go to the beach.

Spend time on the Jolly Roger, and she hasn’t seen much of the ship, but she’s starting to think it’d be nice to pass an afternoon on the water, with the sun and the salt and— “Swan,” Killian says, obviously not the first time he’s tried to draw back her attention. Chair legs scrape across their kitchen floor when he stands, and Emma’s brain barely acknowledges that particular pronoun before he’s crowding her space and bumping his hips against hers and nothing like that has happened yet, because that’s not just a line, it’s an entire rhombus or some other geometric shape that’s more like a tangled mess and knotted feelings and she flinches.

When his hook drifts under the hem of her shirt.

Floral patterned, and far gauzier than anything Emma would even think about owning now. Or then, she supposes. Tenses continue to be their own specific type of issue, and she’s starting to like the clothes hanging in her questionably large closet.

They’re soft.

Which is probably not a commentary, or observation of whatever tense she’s willing to use, but it’s definitely different and possibly better and Killian chuckles in her ear as soon as her head falls to his collarbone. He kisses the top of her hair.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Scoffing into his shirt threatens to rumple the fabric, and she doesn’t really miss the billowy fabric of what’s now years past, but she also wonders if he kept them and where he docks the Jolly during the winter, and she can’t start giving pirate ships nicknames. Not now. Not yet. Not when she’s got to leave, and that only makes, like, half her muscles ache, so it’s probably not as bad as it could be.

“They’re not worth that much,” Emma mumbles, the soft laugh she gets warming her from the inside out. A mix of magic and much more, and she’s back on the alliterative. As a defense mechanism or something.

For her heart, maybe.

“Luckily for you, I’ve got something of an eye for undiscovered treasure and—” “—Is this a line?” He laughs again, noses at her temple and the crown of her head and neither one of them mention how tightly Emma’s arms wrap around his middle. “If you can’t decipher when I’m flirting by now, we may have some issues.” “Some is a vast understatement.” “It’s going to be alright,” Killian promises, but it rings a little hollow and part of Emma knows. Still dark and distant, it doesn’t want to acknowledge everything it’s ignoring and a pointed voice echoes between her ears. With the same mantra.

Magic is emotion.

And Emma’s emotions are decidedly split. Just like Pan thought they’d be. Maybe she’s not just a coward; she’s selfish and greedy and inching dangerously close to a crying jag in the middle of the kitchen, but then Killian’s fingers drag across her spine and it’s a rhythm she can time her breathing to.

“We’re running out of time.” “That’s not entirely true. Time travel’s apparently heavily involved, makes deadlines rather defunct, don’t you think?”

Emma scrunches her nose, but the voice is back and it’s sharper and a little angrier and stamping on several different parts of her brain if the growing pain is any indication. All magic comes with a price. “Talk to me about paint instead.” “Not much to talk about,” Killian says, but the caution in his voice makes it obvious they’re both all too aware of what they’re avoiding. Possibly even dreading. Emma is, at least.

She’s going to strangle Peter Pan when she sees him.

“But you haven’t done it.” “Some other things have been going on, you see.” “Don’t you want to paint?” “It’s not particularly high on my list of ways to occupy my time,” he admits, one side of his mouth tugging up. Flirting is getting easier. Some joke about practice, Emma is sure. “But, if it’s something you’re willing to help with, and it will get those thoughts of yours to settle for a few moments, then—” “—Who says my thoughts aren’t settled?” Tapping the all-too-noticeable furrow of Emma’s forehead, Killian’s eyes widen again. “Absolutely God awful at masking them, m’dear.” “Maybe that’s just a you thing.” “Aye, my mind-reading talents have been well-documented, but I suppose if we’re going to wait for Her Majesty to come up with yet another pointless—” “—Kinda harsh,” Emma mumbles. He kisses the furrow. Traces the lines of her brows, and hovers just on the edge of her eyes, grazing cheekbones and the bridge of her nose, until Emma's skin is buzzing and her magic threatens to pour out of her, and she’s only just able to contain whatever wave joke is pressing against her lips. Good, since those lips can be put to much better use against Killian’s. “Better plan, anyway,” he mumbles, working his arm back around her waist. So he can tug her up, and pull her closer to him and neither one of those things feel like the multitude of other problems Emma’s overactive brain is dealing with and they do eventually get out of the kitchen.

Finish the coffee, and figure out where Hope’s favorite hat has disappeared to, because Emma’s rather quickly learned that this hat has legs that quite often move from its spot on the shelf into the hallway, and the overall width of Mary Margaret’s smile when she opens up the farm’s screen door isn’t as jarring as it would have been a week earlier.

Getting back home takes longer than it probably should — ducking into the alley behind Granny’s for at last forty-two seconds of totally uninterrupted kissing, and Emma’s not entirely sure this is what being a newlywed is like, or was, she supposes, but it’s still pretty fantastic and she doesn’t want to name the sound that works its way out of her.

Part giggle, a hint of overjoyed, and some sort of lingering fear because this isn’t quite real, but feels like the exact opposite, and they find old drop sheets in one of their half a dozen closets. Right next to the shirts she’d been wondering about before, and that’s probably not serendipity or fate or anything except Killian’s own sentimental tendencies, but she’s got to change her clothes anyway, and she doesn’t drown in the fabric like she worried she would.

Likely not a metaphor, either.

“Cheating,” Killian accuses, reaching for Emma anyway and moving the furniture isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Until Emma also remembers she’s got magic, and the ability to be very attracted to the guy who can’t seem to keep his hand off her, and she only has to blink once.

For the furniture to move into the basement, at least for the time being.

“Impressive, right?”

“Look who’s fishing for compliments now.” “C’mon, that was a shit ton of—” She doesn’t get the rest out, far too busy gasping and blinking and he’s swiped paint on her nose. “Are you kidding me?” Shrugging, he dances out of her reach before Emma can totally react and the paint’s already starting to dry. And crack. The signs are just getting obnoxious now. Makes much more sense to keep ignoring them.

“No, no,” she argues, not bothering with the brush stuffed into the top of her leggings. Twisting her wrist, paint soars towards Emma’s fingertips, curling around her wrist and practically vibrating with the energy she’s flush with.

Killian takes a step back. One more, another. A quick shake of his head makes the strands falling across his forehead shift again, and she’s not counting how often that happens, but she’s also paying fairly close attention to it and—“Revenge is never wise, love,” he advises, not able to keep the laugh out of his voice.

“Pots and kettles, and all that, right?” “I’m completely reformed now. Ask anyone.” Humming, Emma advances on him. Magic ripples up her arms, power she’s never quite experienced before and it’s oddly intoxicating. Not in an overwhelming, potentially villainous sort of way. It’s far too warm for that.

Villainy has to be cold, Emma’s sure.

As it is, she’s not quite sweating, but she’s decidedly comfortable and all of her internal organs are functioning with an ease that belies their situation, or the problems it presents, and none of the paint ever touches her skin. Hovers in the air around it, wholly controlled and that’s not something Emma’s particularly familiar with.

It’s nice. It’s—much more than nice, but she fell once while trying to do the long jump in that one Minnesota high school she spent a few months in when she was fifteen, and the prospect of something similar makes her wary of leaving the ground again. The line’s still there. Drawn with precision, and possibly permanent marker, and they can’t paint over that.

Not yet, at least. Not entirely.

“It does kind of match your eyes,” Emma says, hoping Killian doesn’t notice the shake in her voice. No such luck, she knows. Can see the flicker of concern in his gaze, but he’s able to push away. Not from the wall, and there’s something cyclical and symmetrical about this too, emotion almost visibly hanging between them. Another thing they haven’t talked about, and likely won’t have time for.

Totally fine. Absolutely great.

Falling for—

No, no falling. Standing and walking and Emma lifts her chin. Lets her magic twist its way up her spine, and flicker towards her bare feet, and Killian’s mouth twitches again.

“Care more about the dress, really.” “What’d it look like? And where was Elsa’s—you said it was a wedding, right?”

“Her wife was here, you saw Mulan yesterday.” “No shit!” “Always with the perfect response,” Killian grins, “but yes. Met while Mulan was doing ambassador work for Aurora and Phillip, and love conquers all or so I’ve been told.” “Say it again without making it a joke.” Not shuddering under the force of his ensuing gaze is another victory Emma’s going to relish, even when she’s wherever she’s actually supposed to be, and she hopes she remembers this. In picture-perfect detail. “Conquers all,” Killian repeats, “as far I know.”

“Personally?” “Deeply so.”

Emma licks her lips. Killian stares. Tries not to, but she really is getting better at reading him and he doesn’t put up as much of a fight about information anymore. Seriously, everything’s so fine, the word barely holds any meaning now. But, like, in a positive way. “So, we went to Elsa’s wedding because—” “—You and she are rather good friends. Hope’s godmother, in fact.” “Oh. That’s—wow, that’s kind of nice.” “It is,” Killian agrees, not adding to it. He doesn’t have to. They both hear what they haven’t said — how few and far between friends are for Emma, and she briefly wonders if he knows about Lily or the kids who showed up, only to disappear just as quickly, and it would be second-nature to tell him. Part of her wants to now.

Rehashing seems silly, though.

“Anyway,” he adds, “Elsa and Mulan got married, and there was a dress that I will admit to thinking quite a lot about still, and it was blue. With these…” His eyes flutter closed. Magic roars in the very center of Emma. “Little bits of twisted fabric on top, looked like starbursts.” “Like the candy?” Gods, she an idiot. An entertaining one, if Killian’s smirk proves anything, though. So that’s something, at least. “Did we dance?” Nodding, his eyes keep darting back towards Emma’s hand and the paint that’s become some part of a questionably romantic thing, but she’s also starting to get the suspicion he’s using the wall to stay upright. Something thumps into it.

Light bursts from the end of Emma’s hair.

“Oh,” Killian groans through clenched teeth, and a jaw that can’t possibly be comfortable, “that’s hardly playing fair, sweetheart.”

Huh.

The light grows. Flares, even — until it’s casting streaks across the floor and hovering just under Emma’s skin, because apparently she can glow now, and she almost feels like she’s floating. On endearments and sentiment and the air blowing through windows opened solely so they didn’t suffocate on paint fumes suddenly smells a little sweeter.

“You’ve got your hook embedded in the wall,” Emma points out, none of those words all that even either. She doesn’t sound like herself, but she also didn’t know she was a person who reacted quite like that to one ten-letter word, yet here they. So, whatever really.

Wider eyes and slightly parted lips meet her somehow still-lifted chin, and Killian’s nod barely warrants the description. Leaves his chest shifting, but Emma’s also admittedly staring at his chest because for as big as the shirt she’s wearing is, his is just as tight and touting a college she figures Henry thought about going to at some point, and she seizes her opportunity.

Paint flies — literally. Soars across the barley-there space between Emma’s toes and Killian’s socks, and she genuinely cannot cope with how he only ever takes his socks off to sleep. He gasps when color splashes his cheeks and his shoulders, hangs from the ends of his hair, and threatens to find the edges of his lips. “Gotta close your mouth,” Emma advises lightly, getting the exact spark in his eyes that she was hoping for and she yelps all the same. When he ducks his head, nosing at her neck and the line of her collar. Which is technically his color, but she’s been using all those collective pronouns, that it can’t possibly matter at this point and she definitely giggles. While his fingers trace patterns across her stomach and the side of her waist, dragging lines of blue paint over skin and fabric and she’s not sure when they fall over, just that they’re a tangle of limbs and slightly ripped sheets and— “Do you think I could magic the paint on the walls?” Emma asks, flipping her paint-covered head to her side. Without opening his eyes, Killian mumbles an agreement, his fingers fluttering against hers until they lace between them and she’s only like seventy-four percent positive he does it on purpose.

Concentrating on the twenty-six percent that absolutely knows it’s that same instinct and inherent habit from before, Emma twists her lower lip between her teeth. Feels the first brush of magic, and the small inferno that erupts between her ribs doesn’t actually set her on fire. So, more victories.

And it only takes about twelve seconds.

Give or take.

Blue walls appear around them as if by—well, magic. Not a streak out of place, or mark on the baseboards and Emma’s only a little annoyed that they bothered to move any of the furniture. “Single most impressive thing I’ve ever seen,” Killian mutters. “Your eyes are still closed.” “Aye, but I know it’s happening.” Not letting go of her lip or his hand, Emma’s heart thunders in her chest as soon as she notices the question sitting on her tongue. “When did that start? Because—well, as far as I know you can’t tell in Neverland.” He doesn’t respond. Not immediately, anyway. And that’s only momentarily terrifying, before a slightly different and passably darker shade of blue meets her. “That’s not entirely true. It gets a little confusing, though.” “Don’t offend me like that.”

“I’m not saying you won’t understand,” Killian laughs, “just—the other time travel adventure? Well, that happens rather early in my timeline. And, uh...well, by that point you’re feeling some things and—” “—Kissing as a distraction,” Emma breathes, realization shaking her and this version of the puzzle is equally surprising and wonderful.

“You’re an eavesdrop.” “Piracy excuse.”

He laughs again, kisses her cheek and pulls her closer to his side until nearly all of him is touching all of her and that’s another word much bigger than nice. “As far as I’ve been able to reason it, that sets off a chain of sorts. Magic exists in you, can be felt by me, I don’t entirely remember it—” “—You don’t entirely remember it?” “Making it difficult to tell the story.” Emma rolls her eyes. “Anyway, it’s always been this sort of—presence, I suppose. In the back of my mind, a reminder of something. Good and possible, and it makes it rather easy to tell when you’re agitated, actually.” “Seems like cheating.” “Piracy excuse,” he repeats, and Emma’s mind trips over itself. Falling across line and thoughts and leaving here might be one of the hardest things she’s ever done. Part of her wonders if she knows how, though.

“You know about Neal. Everything that—” Her breath catches, out-of-place tears already threatening to fall, and that’s kind of lame. Killian’s cheek brushes Emma’s. While he nods. “For what it’s worth, your parents do feel bad about the naming legacy one they realize.” “He’s not here.” “No, that would be rather difficult for him. He’s—” “—Dead?” “Honorably,” Killian says, even through the hint of acid and Emma drapes her arm across his stomach. “And he does care about Henry, quite ardently. But...well, I don’t imagine I’ll ever entirely forgive him for everything he did, and it was difficult to rationalize the Bae I knew with he Neal who acted like that.” “Probably weird to be attracted to that, huh?” Chuckling, his lips press against her hair. “Whatever way you’re willing to be attracted to me, is something I wholeheartedly approve of.”

“I’ve got another question.” “Waiting with baited breath.” “You’ve got a ship still, right?”

Tensing the way he does isn’t really the reaction Emma anticipates, although she should probably be ready for anything now, and Killian mumbles, “aye, I do.”

“Could we—I mean, I’m capable of teleporting, right?” “I’ve got no doubt. But it might be cold.” “Good thing you just radiate heat, huh?” His tongue pokes between his lips. Emma’s staring again. Has a hard time stopping, really. Which makes the magic return all the stronger and all the more suddenly, and Killian’s soft hitch of breath is oddly pleasing, even as the smell of salt replaces half-dried paint.

Strictly speaking, Emma hadn’t spent much time exploring the Jolly Roger before they got to Neverland. Portal-based travel, and those mermaids and massive rain storms, all made it difficult to notice much else, and it takes her a moment to realize she’s blinked them into the captain’s cabin.

“Efficient,” Killian observes, already perched on the edge of the room’s lone cot and the bedding looks crisp. Military-grade folds, and pillows that aren’t quite as fluffy as the ones in the house, but Emma’s already glancing at the shelves to her right. Books line them, in what is obviously alphabetical order, while the desk nearby is covered in instruments for navigation, and maps of several different realms, and she knows Killian’s watching her.

Feels the force of his stare as it tries very hard to read her mind again, baited breath that’s not quite as much of a joke anymore. He's hoping. For the response, and the reaction, and she belatedly realizes what a big deal this is.

Falling into the deep end of it all is really the only reasonable thing to do now. And appropriately water-based pun.

“Give me another random fact,” Emma says, failing to keep the demand out of her voice. “Royal decrees are coming much easier for you now, Your Highness.” “Something good.” “I’d hardly give you a bad fact.” “Weird, I’m still waiting for one.”

Stabbing a finger into the space next to him, Emma’s leg bumps Killian’s when she sits down and she’d been right about the body heat. All of the blankets stay exactly where they are. “We go to Boston one weekend, relatively soon after we get married. To—” He clicks his tongue, as if he’s deciding what details to include. “Get some stuff out of your apartment. That’s not the important part. But we bring Henry with us, and drive out there. Spend a few days, and go to all of the tourist spots you say we should avoid, but Hope learned that eye trick from Henry, and it works all the time. So we go to Quincy Market, and that one brewery. Tour guide makes some history jokes, which in turn make you roll your eyes, but we get free samples, and Henry tries very hard to steal one of his own.” “Doesn’t work?” Killian shakes his head. “Not as such, no. I’m rather good at observing, you see.” “All those nights as lookout?” “Something like that,” he agrees, “It’s the first time in a very long time that we don’t have any looming threats. Nothing to worry about, no villains to contend with. We sit and walk and eat, and then eat some more, and it’s not the first time I let myself believe this is real, but it might bet the first time that reality seems to linger.” She’s holding her breath. Lungs burn in Emma’s chest, letting go of a shuddering exhale that also comes with tear-filled eyes, and Killian’s fingers hover near her neck. With the chain around it, and Emma knows it’s important — that ring that hangs just behind her stolen shirt, but she doesn’t ask and she wants to live it, anyway.

Wants those moments to come of their own accord, at their own pace, until they linger as well. Settle into her and take root, building a foundation for everything else.

“Can I do something?” she whispers, another imperceptible nod and he doesn’t object. When she unbuckles the leather at his brace, trying very hard to keep her pulse steady and her magic relatively quiet, but neither one of those things work very well and it doesn’t take very long.

Snaps and pieces of metal give way under Emma’s touch, eventually pulling away from his skin and the scars aren’t worse closer up. Just more obvious, maybe.

It’s another stupid sign.

Following the lines with her fingers, Killian’s not much more than a statue. With exceptionally wide eyes and slightly erratic breathing, watching her like he’s bracing himself for impact or the inevitably of her disappearing. Emma sits. Presses her feet into the floor, and there’s no dust on the floor. She has to swallow more than once while she accounts for every mark on him, though — emotion clogging up her throat and her thoughts in equal measure, and it’s not really instinct to bend her neck and kiss the first spot she can reach, but it’s absolutely want and she wants far more than she’s supposed to have.

Right now, at least.

“Emma,” Killian exhales, without the regret it should hold, and honestly the goddamn symmetry is as good as it is awful. She smiles. Against his skin.

“You said, ‘until I met you.’ Did you mean it?”

Glancing up without moving is another hint of cowardice, but Emma’s neck isn’t all that interested in participating in the conversation anymore and it’s easier to notice the state of Killian’s jaw like this. “More than I realized, actually.” “Yeah, me too probably. If I had said—well, I’m the worst liar in the world, y’know?” “At least several different realms.”

Scoffing, Emma’s teeth graze the blunt edge of his wrist and that only gets her a noise she’s never heard before and it’s better than all the other noises, and she loses her shirt eventually. Nothing else happens.

Still can’t, still won’t. They’re both all too aware of the inability of this to linger, but want’s a funny sort of thing and contentment’s just as strange as ever. Falling asleep with her cheek pressed to his bare chest makes sense, though, the steady rock of the ship lulling Emma until her eyes close and her thoughts silence.

“So, you’re not even trying anymore, huh?” Emma sighs. “Here I thought we’d get through the afternoon without any pointed opinions.” “Well, that was just foolish of you,” Regina shrugs, sitting on the front steps of the farm with her legs stretched out in front of her and that’s almost strange. She’s wearing jeans. No one else is surprised by that. And Mary Margaret is leaning against the door frame behind her.

One arm wrapped around her middle, she doesn’t cross her feet at the ankles like Killian would, and that’s probably for the best. Emma’s brain can only cope with so much at one time, and she might not be trying anymore.

Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.

“You think the wisdom is our problem?” Mary Margaret asks, barely blinking at the sound that erupts from Regina. Snarl and sneer, and Emma rocks back on her heels. Like that will put some distance between her and the queen, who doesn’t appear all that evil anymore, but could be even more determined than ever and they’re still waiting for that goddamn bird to come back.

No one’s mentioned the knights in the forest, either.

Emma’s not sure they’re still there.

“Can’t steal intelligence from the dead,” Regina reasons, and Emma’s shiver doesn’t have anything to do with the cold. It smells like cookies, even outside. “Should that make sense to me?” she asks. Mary Margaret shakes her head.

“Not at all. Just—when Zelena did this...she had a bunch of ingredients.” “She has no idea who Zelena is,” Regina mutters, shrugging at Emma’s slack jawed expression. “Don’t bother telling me you’re standing right there, you’re very predictable and I am painfully aware of your continued presence.”

“Was anyone actually going to tell me who Zelena is?” Emma snaps, a better reaction than the magic she’d like to use. On Regina, and her judgmental face. Tinker Bell went to help in Wonderland. Where magic is failing, more than it was a week earlier.

“The Wicked Witch of the West," Mary Margaret replies. “Was bad, had strong magic, gave up her magic, got it—no, she never got it back, did she?” Regina makes a contrary noise.

“How can you possibly keep track of all of this?”

Mary Margaret’s smile isn’t entirely effective, but there’s still a bit of the friend Emma occasionally worries she’s lost and of all the things breaking the curse did, that’s probably one of her bigger issues. There just hasn’t been time to deal with it. “Living it helps,” she laughs, “but she was holding Rumplestilskin hostage when she built the spell, and that’s—” “—Wait, wait, Gold is dead?” “That’s a little harder to explain, actually.”

“Huh.”

She should be upset. She should mourn...maybe not the jackass who consistently ruined everything, but at least the idea of the person he could have been, or the help he occasionally offered, but Emma’s feeling a little vengeful, and is even more annoyed. By like—the entire state of the world, right now.

She’s definitely not trying. Magic is emotion, and all of hers are far too scrambled to be effective as part of a time travel spell a witch who—“Was she actually green?” Emma asks, before she can stop herself and Mary Margaret’s smile works better that time.

“Occasionally,” Regina drawls. “But as your mother pointed out, she’s also lacking any magic now, and with Robyn in the Wish Realm—” “—That can’t possibly be a real place. And who is Robyn, exactly?”

“You met her. She brought you to—” “—That was a witch’s daughter? You realize that none of the ages for any of these kids makes sense? She was an actual adult.” “Don’t think about it too hard,” Mary Margaret advises, “will only make your head hurt.” “That ship sailed, like, two weeks ago,” Emma admits, refusing to look at whatever face Regina is making while also growling softly. Fire dances between her fingers. “Keep interrupting like this,” she warns, “and I will put you under a sleeping curse.” Jaw dropping and air rushing out of her in a wholly undignified huff, Emma’s reactions are so loud that she hardly notices Mary Margaret’s quiet “that might not be all that bad.” But then it clicks and there’s another puzzle, and more words she should not be thinking about right now, and Regina’s eyes thin enough that it’s difficult to notice any color in them.

“Huh,” she says, echoing Emma and that’s not very comforting, actually. “Well, that’s fascinating isn’t it? Plus, we don’t have any innocence.” Mary Margaret’s shoulders drop. “Oh, yeah that might be right.” Emma’s mouth is already hanging open, and her jaw physically cannot separate, so she can’t quite react like she wants to. Magic rattles around her all the same, Regina’s eyebrows doing a fairly good job of masquerading as someone else’s because— “Back to the drawing board, it seems,” she says, all but jumping back to her feet and glancing at Mary Margaret on her way back into the house.

Moving is something of an impossibility for Emma, torn between embarrassment and objections and the second one isn’t entirely possible either, but her mother only looks passably amused and that’s not the right emotion for this situation at all.

“Sleeping curse could force us into all kinds of realizations,” she reasons.

“That’s fucked up, Mom.”

More titles. More feelings. Not enough time to deal with any of them.

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret agrees, “it kind of is. How much batter do you think the rest of your family has stolen?” “At least an entire cookie sheet’s worth.” “Sounds about right, let’s see if we can cop any of our own.”

“Where is everyone going to sleep?” Emma asks, sitting at a dining room table that’s nearly buckling under the weight of food covering it. “And where did they even get all this stuff from?” Fingers drift over her bent knee under the table, Emma’s hands preoccupied with doling out food and Hope’s a very big fan of mashed potatoes. As she should be, really. Less so by the small feast of vegetables her mother has provided, but certainly not cooked because Emma’s spent most of the afternoon with her mother and Regina, trying to figure out if they could replicate Zelena’s time travel spell, and it didn’t work. Like, at all.

Lack of innocence likely isn’t their biggest problem. “Not everyone stays here,” Killian explains, “although I doubt your mother would mind all that much if they did.”

“Doesn’t explain where they’re going to sleep.” “Are you concerned about privacy, love?” “Pirate,” she accuses, but it lacks any actual vitriol and someone whistles when Killian’s lips brush hers. “I just don’t want to sleep in the hallway, if there’s no more room at the inn.” “Very confident in your own brand of religion-based humor aren’t you?” “Oh, color me impressed with your knowledge.” “Not many of your jokes evolve much over time, that’s why. And I think you’ve proven your ability to relocate us fairly well, don’t you?” Twisting her lips only gets her a flash of amusement and eyebrows that move so quick, there should also be smoke involved. “As far as I know, Her Royal Highness Snow White has concocted a rather extensive and possibly color-coordinated sleeping arrangement, that ensures no one will be forced to sleep in the hallway, while also allowing for maximum comfort and the ability to ransack parents as early as possible tomorrow morning.”

Something drops into the bottom of her stomach. It’s dread. And fear, and what Emma knows is that growing selfish streak and if her hand finds Hope’s back, then that’s neither here nor there.

Plus, Killian can totally tell.

The overall volume of her magic helps too.

“Mary Margaret’s pretty in her element, huh?” Nodding, he ignores the brussels sprouts in favor of the broccoli casserole, and she’s resolutely not attracted to that. No sane person could be attracted to side dish choices. On Christmas Eve.

It’s Christmas Eve.

“She is, indeed,” Killian agrees, “which is why outsourcing made quite a bit of sense.” Emma’s eyes dart towards Granny, and no one’s introduced her to Ruby’s girlfriend yet, but Ruby also hasn’t announced that she quite obviously knows something about this family gathering is off, and that’s nice enough that pushing the issue seems like another asshole move.

No one can be an asshole on Christmas Eve.

Emma assumes, at least. Hopes a bit too, just for good measure. “Granny made all of this?”

“Eh, certainly tried. Coerced Ruby and Dorothy—” “—No,” she hisses, drawing a few curious glances and half of Hope’s plate is covered in mashed potatoes. Killian’s fingers tighten.

“Someone told you about Zelena, didn’t they?” “I met her daughter without realizing, I guess.” Making a sound of understanding, Emma doesn’t miss the length of Killian’s drink. From the wine glass next to his own mostly-filled plate. “Is that another reason they went to that Wish Realm? So she didn’t have to talk to Dorothy Gale?” “I’m sure it was a consideration.” “Keeping track of all these things is a full-time job. Ok, so—Henry’s staying here though, isn’t he?” More noise, another sip of alcohol that Emma’s strangely jealous of. Nearly knocking her own glass over, her drink is closer to a gulp her dad absolutely notices, and whatever this is, it’s not any wine she’s familiar with.

“Camelot vineyards are enchanted,” David says, answering another question Emma hasn’t actually asked. Ruby’s eyes noticeably flicker towards Henry.

Who is not very subtle.

“Something about the soil, right?” Regina asks, although it certainly sounds like she’s perfectly aware of the reason, and Emma’s less sure as to why her mouth immediately dries. Possibly because Killian’s fingers have gone vice-like.

Glancing at him isn’t very subtle either, but she couldn’t care less and curiosity’s always been a bit of a thing for her. He probably knows that, anyway. “Camelot wasn’t my favorite place,” he explains, like that’s a reasonable string of words, but this isn’t the time for that and the knights are gone. Disappeared entirely, it seems.

“No Arthur, huh?” Silence descends on the table, silverware clanking on plates and chairs scuffing when they’re pushed away from the table. Emma widens her eyes.

Challenging that no asshole on Christmas Eve policy.

“He was kind of a shitty king,” Henry shrugs, Regina glaring in that same maternal sort of way that immediately makes him look far more like a teenager than a grown man with a kid. Emma can’t figure out the timeline of Lucy at all, either.

“Redeemed himself a bit in the end,” Killian adds. “Had no trouble from that particular area.” There should be more to that sentence. Emma knows, can hear it in the clipped way his voice cuts off and his tongue swipes the front of his teeth, and—“Whatever happened to that girl Henry knew in court?” Ruby asks, and they all lack subtlety it seems.

Emma tilts her head. “Henry knew a girl in the court of Camelot?” “Very complex story,” he mumbles, dots of pink on his cheek and Ella laughing at his side.

“Should I be upset I didn’t know about this?” “He used music to woo her,” Mary Margaret adds, some of the tension hovering over them evaporating. Killian’s fingers don’t move. “Although I never entirely understood how the iPod managed to stay charged.” “Magic,” Henry reasons. “And Violet went back to Connecticut, with her dad.”

Groaning, Emma’s reaction to this wine is even stronger than anything she drank in the diner or the buttered rum, and Henry’s face might stay red for the rest of the night. Festive, at least. “A guy from Connecticut?” she asks. “In Camelot?” “Didn’t click for me at first, if that makes you feel better.” “He was too busy flirting, that’s why,” Killian adds.

Henry scowls. “Reminiscing about any of this is not nearly as fun as you guys think it is. Plus,” he slings an arm around Ella’s shoulders, kissing her temple for good measure, “it all worked out in the end, so—” “—So,” Ruby echoes, “did we decide on snowmen rules, or…”

Voices all but explode around them — shouting over one another, in what is another questionably competitive Christmas tradition, and there are apparently judges involved and boxes of decorations that Mary Margaret keeps stored in the basement. Which Emma assumes is a much better use for the space than hoarding weapons, but any thought about her house quickly gets lost in how delicious this food is and how Henry’s arm rarely leaves Ella, and at some point Hope clamors onto Killian’s lap before Lucy starts demanding snowmen and they’ve all turn into giant pushovers, it seems.

“The theme,” Granny announces from her spot on the porch, because she’s head judge, and that holds more weight than anyone else, “is whimsy. Delight me, or you’ll lose points.” “What does that even mean?” Ruby challenges. She’s already rolling snow together, Dorothy’s head barely visible while she digs through one of Mary Margaret’s boxes and produces a pair of plastic fairy wings.

“Why do you own these?” she demands.

It’s difficult to tell if the color on Mary Margaret’s cheeks is a blush, or simply a product of how cold it already is, but none of that matters as much as the inches Henry has on her and how easy it is for his arm to find her shoulders as well. “Like to be prepared for any potential theme, isn’t that right, Gram?” “Not too old for any of the parental figures around here to ground you, you know,” Mary Margaret threatens. As much as she’s able.

David throws a snowball at both of them. “Build your snowman, kid. You’re going to lose, and it will be something else we can reminisce about for holidays to come.”

“C’mon, love,” Killian says, directing Emma to their own patch of snow and overflowing box and Hope’s already discovered the plastic tub of glitter that’s inexplicably in there. “We’ve got a reputation to uphold.” “Do we win this a lot?” “Don't insult me like that.”

He kisses her to ensure she doesn’t. Emma doesn’t argue that.

And as promised, Regina magics everyone’s snow creations to ensure they won’t melt for “at least a month, maybe longer” and the dread in Emma’s stomach threatens to rise up her throat. Until there’s a hand tugging at the side of her jacket, and—

“Can you get him to smile, Mama?” Hope asks, what looks like a slightly lopsided snowman’s bottom behind her and Emma might be the biggest pushover of them all.

Waving her hand is easy, though. And magic’s getting closer to second nature than she’d like to admit, positioning shiny rocks that Mary Margaret inexplicably had into what actually looks like a smile onto another freshly-made mound of snow.

Hope is overjoyed.

Emma tries very hard not to cry.

And fails spectacularly.

Monopoly is an adults-only game. This takes Emma at least forty-two seconds to come to terms with, but then there’s more wine and it’s a miracle they don’t wake up any of the kids, and Killian really does cheat.

She just can’t figure out how.

Bills appear in front of him like he’s the one with magic in this relationship, and Emma’s definitely drunk enough not to care about her word choice. She’s admittedly far more concerned with the houses that keep cropping up on Killian’s properties and how close some of those properties are to forming multiple Monopolys and he grins at her. From across the board.

David made it very clear that couples weren’t allowed to sit next to each other.

For fear of collusion, or something — although Emma can’t imagine there are actually many alliances formed in this game, particularly after the snowmen and the judging and it took Lucy nearly an hour to come down from the understandable high of her win. Hope was more interested in getting glitter everywhere than properly constructing a snowman.

“What was that about revenge?” Emma asks archly, more than a few other alcohol-saturated adults groaning at what is blatantly even more obvious flirting. And he hadn’t been lying about the state of her parent’s tree.

More candles line the branches, not a fire hazard when the flames have been enchanted and that’s for the best because there’s just—a copious amount of tinsel on those same branches, and a few ornaments that are obviously hand-made by kids and grandkids and it’s nice to know that even descendants of fairy tale characters use popsicle sticks in their arts and crafts.

Mary Margaret probably has a box of those too.

“This has nothing to do with the snowmen,” Killian promises, quirking his lips when Ruby lands on Marvin Gardens. He owns Marvin Gardens. “Look at that.” “Are you playing with weighted dice, pirate?” Ruby cries. “Because that is—” “—Cheating,” David finishes.

Killian shrugs. His eyes don’t leave Emma. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. You owe me twenty-four dollars, Lady Lucas.”

She throws the bills at him.

“How would I even use the weighted dice I don’t own anymore—” “—Anymore,” Henry repeats, and he’s only got a few bills left in front of him. Killian ignores him. Emma is far too charmed by this.

She got a Monopoly on the green properties, though. And she didn’t cheat to get them, so she’s also in possession of the moral high ground. Gives her free room to be entirely charmed by her husband. Kind of. “To calculate what you’ll land on,” Killian finishes. “That doesn’t even make sense.

Shaking her head, Ruby’s hair nearly flies into her face, threatening the state of the board and several other player’s pieces. All of whom are very loudly offended by that. “I hate you,” she sneers, and she doesn’t get back to Go before she goes bankrupt.

In the end, the moral high ground doesn’t help Emma’s ability to turn profits when Killian gets the Monopoly on that yellow corner and immediately starts building hotels and she nearly snarls when she lands on Atlantic Avenue.

“I think I might have won, Swan.” “Shut up.” “You don’t have to actually give me all your money, I’m more than pleased to simply hear the words from you.” “Shut up,” Emma says, and her mom fell asleep at least an hour earlier. David rolls his eyes. When she leans across the board, knocking over pieces and hotels, and Killian built so many goddamn hotels. He’s smiling when she kisses him.

Nothing overly magical happens, but Emma swears one of the candles flickers in the corner of her eye.

They do get a room. Directly next to the one Hope and Lucy are sharing, but Emma’s finding it harder than she expected to walk away from the tree and she never had a Christmas tree when she was a kid. Lights start to blur the longer she stares at it, floorboards creaking in an unnecessary announcement of the hand that finds her and— “I put an ornament on, you know,” Killian says, staring ahead when Emma turns towards him. “Was worried you’d notice, but I’m actually rather good at—” “—Sneaking?” “Covert movements.”

Scoffing out a laugh, her head falls to his shoulder. With the magnets and the feelings, magic fighting against dread and a slew of other feelings that are now as twisted as any family tree they could create. “Is it wrong to ask you what you wished for? Or should we talk about why you hate Camelot?” “They go together, actually.” “Do they just?” He kisses her hair. More than once, like he’s grounding himself or reminding himself of something that may not happen if they don’t somehow fix all of this, and Emma’s tongue is doing that thing again. Taking up way too much space in her mouth.

She’s not sure what she’d say, anyway.

“Dying makes it rather easy to shuffle a man’s priorities, and—” “—You die?” Emma shouts, but Killian’s shoulder only bumps her cheek and half the candles flicker. “How is that—God, that’s…” More kisses. A few hand squeezes. Her knees shake all the same.

“Doesn’t stick any of the times.” “It happens more than once.”

His cheek shifts her hair when he nods, a picture of only passably believable calm, and that wasn’t a question. “Something of a stubborn lass, though. So you don’t accept it very often, and occasionally that doesn’t work very well, but—” Tears fall down Emma’s cheeks, hot in the way a brand is, or she figures it would be, and she swallows as his thumb brushes over her skin. “You save me. Several times over.”

“Does calling me lass ever end well for you?” “Not as such, no.” Sticking her lower lip out is definitely a misplaced attempt to regain control of the situation because Emma’s all too aware of just how quickly Killian’s gaze will drop, and she’s not disappointed. A little nervous, but she figures that’s to be expected and her voice only kind of shakes when she whispers, “That’s not just a you thing, you know that, right?” “A me thing, what?” “The saving. Being stubborn too, I guess, or holding onto this with both hands, and this is an us thing. I’m...well, maybe I’m not totally there yet, but—” Her lips are chapped. Cracking with more emotion than she’s entirely sure she’s capable of, and Emma swallows once. Her tongue doesn’t do anything else. “Is that what you wished for? The saving?” “Awfully selfish, I know, but I—I think I need that.” “No, it’s not,” she objects. “Might be sweepingly romantic, even.” Eyes trace over her face, like he’s memorizing all of it, all over again, and innocence was a long gone ideal when they made out in the jungle, but this feels entirely different and somehow more important and Emma has to push up on her toes. To press her lips to his, and make sure his arm pulls her flush against his chest, and there’s no music or rainbow, but that might have something to do with her greed and her want and neither one of them pull away.

While a clock chimes down the hall.

“Merry Christmas, love.” She closes her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Killian.”

Something taps at their window. Incessantly, until it’s obvious Emma’s not dreaming the sound, and it takes her a few blinks and one grumbling, half-asleep pirate to realize it’s a bird. Without a sense of direction, it seems.

“Oh shit,” Emma breathes, pulling the blankets over her shoulders like that will keep them here and the bird outside and that’s an exercise in futility that lasts less than a full minute. Once the bird realizes he’s at the wrong room.

She counts. Seconds and breaths, trying not to give into the whimper that’s pressed behind her lips, and Killian’s fingers find hers. The floor creaks. Doors swing open, and David’s voice calls for them and Regina, and there are more squeaking hinges and calls to action because—

Mary Margaret knocks before she comes inside, already dressed with a full quiver of arrows strapped to her back. “Camelot’s gone,” she says, which may actually be the last thing Emma expects to hear at whatever time it is. Late, if the lack of sun is any sign. “Disappeared in a wave of...nothing.” “How can a wave be nothing?” Emma asks. “That—” “—It’s the opposite of magic,” Regina finishes, curled around the door with her hair twisted and there’s no fire in her palm. It’s in her eyes, instead. The end of reality turns Emma into something of a poet, apparently. “Get ready, we’ve got to head this off before it gets to the town and,” her gaze drifts towards Killian and his hand and his hook his on the bedside table, “might want to get your sword out of storage, Captain.”

Nodding silently, Killian doesn’t show any other signs of acknowledging his marching orders, but then he’s looking at Emma, a mix of expectant disappointment and unhinged longing and she blinks. Twice. They’re dressed.

And his sword hangs from his hip.

“You alright?” he rasps, which seems like more cheating and entirely unfair and Emma nods too.

“Let’s fix this.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #but once a year #festive fic a thon 2k20 #things are happening!#they are decidedly emotional!

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kelyon · 3 years

Text

Golden Rings 16: A Confession

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

In which Rumple leaves the jail, but is not free

Read on AO3

He waits in the darkness. In this prison, his magic is useless and there is nothing to do but wait. Has he been here for weeks or for months? When his wife fretted over his future, did she worry about him being so bored?

His cell is at the end of a long tunnel. The only torches are at the mouth of the corridor, where the guards are stationed. His captors are quiet tonight, but sometimes he hears them talking to each other. They tell tales of him, warning each other against his power, his evil, his devious tricks. They speak as though they are in danger just by being in his presence.

They are not wrong.

If he wanted to, he could kill them with his bare hands. He wouldn’t need magic or a weapon. His own strength and viciousness would be enough to rip through their armor and tear out their throats with his teeth.

It is fortunate for the guards that he has no intention of harming them, or of escaping. He is exactly where he wants to be. This cell is insulated from magic, it is both a prison and a fortress. If there is any place in this world where the effects of the Queen’s curse might be mitigated, even a little, it is here. In this black hell, that faint spark of hope shines like the sun.

Movement.

At the end of the tunnel, lights grow brighter. Another torch has been added to their number. Footsteps echo in the stone cave. Alerted, he sits up. He pounces away from the wall. He crouches on the dank ground like an animal, claws raised, teeth bared.

“Come closer, dearie.” His words are sweet as treacle, but he laces them with poison. “How kind of you to visit me in my loneliness!”

There is a gasp at the end of the hallway, half-stifled. The visitor is afraid, but is trying not to show it. The footsteps hurry forward, soft and quick. The torchlight grows brighter as it comes closer.

It is a hooded figure, he cannot see its face. The body is small, and the cloak is patterned with green and yellow leaves.

He knows that cloak. He made it himself.

He cannot get his hopes up. He is imprisoned in the stronghold of his enemies. No illusion is beyond the grasp of the Evil Queen or the Blue Fairy. Either one of them could be trying to deceive him. Trying to exploit his weakness for their own gain.

Or madness could be taking over his mind. His own hope could be twisting around on itself, creating a vision of what he wants. The one thing he wants to see more than anything else in the world.

“Come closer, I said!” His voice is rough with disuse, with emotion. In this pit of despair, he does not dare hope. He doesn’t want to believe that it could be…

“You cannot order me about, Rumpelstiltskin. Not anymore.” The voice is clear and beautiful, like clean water in the middle of a drought. The light stops moving when it fills his vision. The figure sets a torch in a sconce. Finally, he can see her. Her face. Her furrowed brow, her shaky smile. “You must at least say please.”

“Please,” he breathes.

It is a short fall, to go from crouching to kneeling, but being near Belle again requires nothing less. He must get on his knees to her--his wife, his love, his dearest wish.

Trembling, he reaches through the pointed bars of his cell. Without hesitation, her hand clutches around his. She is on her knees as well. Her flesh is warm and soft.

“You’re real.” This is no trick. He knows it as surely as he knows anything. “You’re alive.”

She bites her lip as she looks at him. He must be filthy, haggard, even more hideous than usual. But she is not repulsed. Only full of pity.

“What have they done to you?” she whispers.

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.” He cannot think of his own troubles, not while she is in front of him. “How did you come to be here, my darling?”

“The guard tonight is a dwarf called Sleepy.” She puts on a brave face, tries to make a joke. “He lives up to his name.”

He cannot tear his eyes from her. “And you have made yourself at home in this castle?”

She nods. “Our plan worked. The Prince ‘rescued’ me. And the side of goodness proclaimed me as one of their own.”

“You are,” he sighs. He has never seen a sight more beautiful than the woman who loves him. “You are goodness, my love. The royals should count themselves lucky that they get to be on your side, let alone that you want to be on theirs.”

Her hand clenches around his. “I’m on your side,” she promises. “We are working together, even when we are apart.”

“Yes.” He holds her hand in both of his and brings it to his lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“And I miss you.”

She reaches into his cage. She grasps at his clothes, pulling him closer. Their mouths meet between the iron bars. Her kiss is honey and sunshine and the breath of life. It is meat and blood and peace. He cannot get enough of her. He will never have enough of her. Not until they are truly together, when all the curses are broken and they can live the rest of their lives without fear.

They break apart at the same time, both of them gasping for breath.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers. “If they find you with me, they will lock you up as well. They will think you are evil. They will try to purify you with scourges and flaying.”

“I know,” she agrees. “But I couldn’t stay away. If only I could be with you always. I would stay with you, even in this terrible place.”

“I know.” He rests his forehead against hers. They breathe together, an act of unity just as important as a kiss.

After a moment, he steps back. There is space between their bodies now, though their hands still touch against the bars. He rubs his thumb over the smooth gold of her wedding ring.

“How are they, up in the outside world?”

“Everyone is panicking over Regina’s curse. They’re trying to stop it, but they don’t know how.”

“If only they had the most powerful user of dark magic in the world trapped somewhere nearby with nothing to do but offer advice to anyone who asks.”

Belle’s pink lips quirk into a half-grin. “Perhaps they need a reminder of that fact.”

“And how is Snow White bearing her firstborn?”

“I haven’t spoken to her much. But I’ve heard that she is often brought low with melancholy. The Prince insists that there is a way to fight the curse, but she is losing hope.”

“Is she desperate?”

“She will be.”

“Good.”

The Dark One trades in desperation. Much of his power comes from fear--not only the fear that people have of him, but of the things they fear so much that they are willing to pay him whatever he asks for.

“The child,” he whispers. “Have they given it a name yet?”

Belle shakes her head. “In this land a prince or princess is not named until after it is born. There is a grand ceremony when the name is spoken for the first time and proclaimed to the whole kingdom.”

“We won’t have time for that,” he snarls. “The curse is coming! The name of the Savior has power. I must know what it is!”

“You will.” She soothes him. She presses her palm against his own. Their scars match up, at the place where they mingled their blood on their wedding day. “I believe in you. We will find a way.”

His breathing slows as her nearness cools his rage. “Together,” he agrees.

His wife looks over her shoulder. “They will change the guard soon.” She bites her lip. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”

“You shouldn’t come back.” He forces the words out. “You shouldn’t be here now.”

“Well you can take me over your knee when we see each other again.”

He snorts his surprise and amusement. She is too good, too perfect.

She looks over her shoulder again. “Before I go,” she says, “I have something to ask of you.”

“Anything, my love. Though I have little to give as I am now.”

“It is something from your mind. Something to occupy your thoughts until we meet again.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to think of a name for our baby.”

His eyes widen. He blinks, several times.

“Something you want to tell me, sweetheart?”

She smiles. “No, my love. Only that there is a future for us. Snow White is not the only person who can have an important child. We will be together again. And when we are, we will be a family. All of us.”

He nods. Already his mind is racing with every name he can think of. Names have power. The name of Belle’s child must be perfect. Meaningful. The enormity of the task is enough to fell him. What a brilliant woman his wife is! What a wonderful gift she has given him!

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for reminding me that all of this is temporary.”

Her face breaks, but she keeps herself from weeping. “I love you so much, Rumple.”

She presses in to kiss him again. It lasts for an eternity. It is over too soon.

Before she leaves, she offers him one last assurance: “I will see you again.”

****

Rumpelstiltskin spent the better part of a day in the jail cell of the Storybrooke sheriff station. Apparently Sheriff Swan was the only officer with the authority to release detainees, and her presence was required outside the station until later in the afternoon.

She sent her heartfelt regrets.

He didn’t mind much. The Dark One had learned long ago that there was power in appearing to be at the mercy of his enemies. Captivity in particular had its advantages. No distractions, for one thing. There was nothing he could do now except think, and plan.

Another advantage was that people would have to come to him. Someone had taken the cup that had belonged to Belle. Someone knew what that cup was, and what it meant to him. Someone had tried to draw him out. And someone would be thinking that their scheme had worked.

So someone would be stopping by to gloat.

There was no doubt that the culprit knew what had happened by now. Even if Mrs. Gold’s drunken outburst hadn’t drawn a crowd, news spread fast in a small town. Enough people had heard her shout at him in Granny’s. And enough people had seen Emma helping Mrs. Gold walk to the station. And by mid-morning enough people had noticed him in the holding cell.

For a few hours, Rumpelstiltskin entertained himself by imagining how wild and salacious the rumors could get. Any fool would know that Gold and his wife had participated in a public shouting match, but what else could they think of? That he had used violence? That Mrs. Gold had fought back using her high heeled shoes as a weapon? That her father had rushed in to defend her and Gold had beaten him bloody with his cane? Gold’s reputation was as the most feared man in Storybrooke. Nothing was too outrageous to believe.

That reputation had saved Rumpelstiltskin a lot of trouble in his dealings with the people of Storybrooke. Even now, at the piddling mercy of uniformed police officers, a glare and a sneer were enough to keep them away from him. Every one of them paid rent to him, or owed him something, and they were all keenly aware of it. He was in a cage, but they were the ones who were terrified.

So they made themselves scarce. The station was practically empty by the time Emma waltzed in with a bag from Granny’s. Walking along the central office area, she pulled wrapped sandwiches out of the paper bag and set them on all the desks. Presumably, she knew her workers well enough to know what each would want for lunch. And she cared enough to get it for them, an act that would certainly endear herself to her subordinates.

Emma pulled out the last sandwich from the bag and held it out as she walked over to the cell. “I figured you for a pastrami guy.”

Rumpelstiltskin let himself reach out and take the food. He held the oil-soaked paper bundle in both hands and didn’t open it. “Corned beef, actually.”

“I’ll remember that for next time you’re in here.” It was a joke, but it was also a threat. Emma leaned against one of the desks in front of the cell, facing him with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I believe you mean the first time I actually commit a crime,” he countered. Getting her to put him in jail had been nothing but a bit of theater, a convenient way to keep Mrs. Gold from the same fate. They both knew he wasn’t being charged.

“The next time I catch you trying to get a drunk woman to go home with you against her will.”

“Ah, well.” He shrugged, playing his part. “Given Mrs. Gold’s impulse control, I can’t make many promises on that topic.”

“If you’re trying to convince me that any part of this is her fault, that is not going to happen.”

He let her have that one without further argument. Emma Swan was smarter than most people in this town. She had the rare gift of First Sight--the ability to see things as they really were, and not how everyone knew they were supposed to be. Outside Storybrooke, it had probably been an advantageous skill. But here, in a place where reality itself was subject to the most powerful curse ever made, she was wrong even when she was right.

Nothing Mrs. Gold’s life was her fault, that was true. But it wasn’t Rumpelstiltskin’s fault either. Gold had preyed upon a young woman. Regina had cursed them all. Emma was the only one who could fix everything, but not in the way she thought. Not in any way even someone as smart as her could imagine.

He held up the sandwich. “Thanks for picking up lunch,” he said. “Do my tax dollars include dessert?”

Emma stood up straight, arms swinging with deliberate casualness. “You sit tight, Gold. I’ve gotta go find some paperwork before I can release you.”

She went out into the hallway, and Rumpelstiltskin knew he was in for at least another two hours of incarceration.

It didn’t matter. Emma thought she was punishing Gold, but really she was keeping Rumpelstiltskin free for a little while longer.

He didn’t want to face Mrs. Gold. Interacting with her was torturous under regular circumstances. After last night--and the night before that, and the day in between--living with her would be nearly impossible.

It had finally broken apart. The facade of a marriage that he had spent five months hiding behind had cracked and shattered. She had heard him call out to Belle. She accused him of infidelity. Even Mrs. Gold’s unwavering obedience to her husband had finally bent under the strain of Rumpelstiltskin’s neglect.

Part of him was relieved. It was one thing to wear a mask in front of his enemies, but it was something altogether different to constantly deflect the attentions of a woman who only ever wanted to please him. She lived in his house, she was with him all the time. Until last night, they had slept in the same bed. It had worn on him, to have Belle’s body so near, so willing--and have to reject her again and again. Perhaps now Mrs. Gold would get it into her head to reject him.

Would she leave him?

Long ago in their cursed life, Mrs. Gold had burned bridges with everyone she had known before her marriage. She had no support structure, no money of her own. Her job skills would be enough to get her part-time work at minimum wage--if anyone wanted to hire her. The woman’s reputation around town would scare away most respectable employers. Without Gold, she would have to go begging back to her already impoverished family. Or she could try to ingratiate herself with some other wealthy man in Storybrooke. Gold had often insulted his wife by calling her a whore, but what other option had he given her?

If nothing else, Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t let Mrs. Gold make any more reckless decisions with Belle’s body. Though the illusion of the marriage had dissolved, he would have to maintain control over Mrs. Gold somehow.

Probably through money, or comfort. At her core, Mrs. Gold was a practical woman. She knew that her relationship with Gold was a simple deal. If Rumpelstiltskin altered the deal, perhaps she wouldn’t make a fuss.

An image from the night before floated through Rumpelstiltskin’s memory: Mrs. Gold, drunk and heartbroken, fighting against Emma in her need to lash out at him. “You’re supposed to love me, you bastard!”

Where had she gotten that idea? Gold had never allowed his wife to entertain notions of love between them. How could the way Rumpelstiltskin had been treating her possibly lead her to that conclusion? Mrs. Gold had said she loved him, when he had been dreaming of Belle. Had she been dreaming as well?

Had Mrs. Gold been dreaming of her husband? Or had Belle been dreaming of Rumpelstiltskin? What was happening to the curse?

Emma came back with a manila file folder in her hand. She strode purposefully through the station, perfectly comfortable wielding her authority. She was truly the combination of her parents--a born princess and a seasoned war leader. She was the Savior, the curse-breaker. All he had to do was hold on until she started saving everyone.

There was a clear line of sight between the Sheriff’s office and the holding cell. Rumpelstiltskin watched as Emma put the folder she had just brought in at the bottom of a stack of similar files. He took that to be all the paperwork she would have to get through before she would deign to release him.

****

After twenty minutes of industrious silence, the sound of running feet broke through the hallway outside. To Rumpelstiltskin’s ear, the running sounded happy, excited, young. A child with boundless energy, finally free to burst toward something they want.

Following the running was the methodical click of high heeled shoes. For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin thought that Mrs. Gold had come to the station. But no, these footsteps were more authoritative, businesslike.

He wasn’t surprised at all to see Henry Mills come bounding in to the station and make a beeline for Emma’s office. And of course Regina would be slinking right behind him.

“Sheriff Swan, I’m going to permit you half an hour with my son.” Regina announced this piddling allowance of time like it was a gift. “Take him out for ice cream.”

Rumpelstiltskin watched Emma’s eyes flit from Regina, to Henry, to the empty station, to himself, and then back to Regina. “You’re expecting me to leave you alone with a prisoner?”

Regina lifted her chin and looked straight ahead at the cell. “Twenty-nine minutes.”

This time, Emma’s look went only from Henry to Rumpelstiltskin. “Are you okay with this?”

He shrugged. “Bring me back a cone?”

Emma nodded to him, then spoke to Regina. “We will be right back.”

“Yes, you’ll have to be,” the Queen said smoothly. She stood still as Emma and Henry bustled around her, jabbering excitedly as they left. It really was remarkable how much both mother and son lit up when they were together.

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t move. He stayed seated on the cell bench and let Regina come to him. She perched on the arm of the sofa in front of the holding cell. She had a large, black leather purse slung over one shoulder.

“Madame Mayor,” he said in tones low with menace. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Mr. Gold, I think we might be able to help each other.”

The audacity of this woman. Under any other circumstance, she would have nothing to offer him. And yet…

“When two people each have something the other wants, a deal can always be struck.”

She gave him a tight smile. “I hoped you’d see it that way.”

“But do you have something I want?”

Instead of answering, Regina crossed her legs and pushed back the blazer of her smart business suit. “You know, all day I’ve been hearing the most terrible rumors about you and Mrs. Gold. I do hope everything is alright between you two.”

“My wife,” he said slowly, “has not been herself lately.”

“Or is it you who haven’t been yourself, Mr. Gold?”

He looked at her, impassive. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do.” The Queen took her purse off her shoulder and set it on her knees.

Rumpelstiltskin tried not to stare at the bag. He looked instead at Regina’s face. “Why are you here?”

“Like I said, to help you. And to receive some help in return.”

“What do you have to offer me, dearie?”

“Not much,” she smirked. Without looking down, Regina reached into her purse and pulled it out. The chipped cup. “Just a… sentimental little keepsake.”

It took all of Rumpelstiltskin’s resolve not to leap to his feet and demand the cup. He wanted to break these steel bars and rip the cup from Regina’s hands--and rip her hands from her arms if she wouldn’t surrender it. That was Belle’s cup. This witch had no right to touch it!

Instead, he stayed still. All his energy, all his rage, focused on the cup. He focused on Regina, who dangled it by the handle.

“How?” he rasped. How had she known about the cup? How had he let his cover slip? How had she broken into Gold’s house?

“Flimsy locks,” she quipped. Then the Queen turned more serious. “I have power in this world, more power than you know.”

“But not enough,” he hissed. “You will never have enough power to beat me.”

She shook her head. A faint chuckle entered her voice. “I already have. I know what your weakness is.”

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed and made himself shrug. “It’s just a cup.”

“But you want it,” Regina purred. “And you’ll give me what I want in order to get it back.”

“What is it that you want, dearie?”

“I want you to answer one question. And answer it simply.” She squared her shoulders before she asked: “What is your name?”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t hesitate. “It’s Mr. Gold.”

The Queen glowered at him. “Your real name.”

“Every moment I’ve spent in this world, that has been my name.”

Regina leaned forward, closer to the bars. “What about moments spent elsewhere?”

He locked his eyes on hers. “What are you asking me?”

“I think you know.” Clearly her patience was running thin. “Tell me your name.”

And with a sly grin, he confessed: “Rumpelstiltskin.”

The deal done, he took the cup from Regina’s unresisting hands and cradled it in his own. He looked it over, making sure there was only one chip. Belle’s cup. Their cup. It was safe.

When he looked at Regina, she was fairly glowing with triumph.

“What gave me away?”

“Belle did,” Regina said smugly. “I’ve been watching Mr. and Mrs. Gold for, well, a very long time now. I could see that something was wrong with her. But you seemed perfectly normal. Suspiciously normal.”

His own caution--his own commitment to playing the role of Gold--that was what had exposed him. Still holding the cup in both hands, Rumpelstiltskin sat back against the wall. “So,” he said, “as long as we’re being honest with each other, let’s remember how things used to be.”

“We used to work together,” Regina said, incorrectly. “You used to help me without so much… hostility.”

“That was before you ever came after what was mine, Your Majesty.” He shook his head and tutted. “You really should be more careful about who you make your enemy.”

“You mean my victim,” she sneered.

“And how much longer do you think that will last? Haven’t you noticed the curse getting weaker?”

“But I am just as strong as ever!” The Queen rose to her feet. She looked down on him with regal disdain. “You’re the one who’s letting your biggest weakness galavant all over town!”

Clutching the bars of the cell, Rumpelstiltskin pulled himself up to stand “For your sake, I hope that isn’t a threat.”

“Of course not.” Regina closed her purse and began to leave. “I’ve barely spoken to Mrs. Gold. I’m certainly not the one who brought her so much pain she got drunk in public and started crying in the street.”

With a satisfied smirk, Regina turned on her heel and left.

****

Darkness had fallen by the time Emma officially let him out. Winter nights came early in Maine. If the sheriff noticed the teacup in his hands, she didn’t mention it.

His first thought was to walk back to Granny’s where he had parked Gold’s car the night before. But then he remembered that he had given the keys to Mrs. Gold so she could take herself home. So he would have to walk to the house.

He only hoped that she would still be there when he arrived.

The house was dark and the door was unlocked. Gold’s heavy ring of keys hung in plain sight on the first hook by the door. Rumpelstiltskin took the keys and put them in his pocket. Flimsy locks, Regina had said. She had broken into his house and stolen one of the things he valued most in the world--and he hadn’t noticed until it was too late. The cup could have been missing for days before he went into Gold’s study and saw that it wasn’t where he’d left it.

Would she attack his home again? Should he arrange to put double bolts on all the doors? Or was she just trying to toy with him? This was a world the Queen had made. It shouldn’t surprise him that she had her own ways to take anything she wanted from anyone.

Noise came from one of the inner rooms. It took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to recognize the sound of the television in the living room. Gold had never cared much for the “idiot box,” so it had been an easy device for Rumpelstiltskin to ignore.

He went toward the noise, turning on lights as he went through the house. In the living room off the kitchen, the only light came from the flashing bluish glare of the television. Mrs. Gold was sitting on the couch, curled in on herself under a blanket. She was staring vacantly at the screen, letting the sounds and images wash over her.

Was it just the blue light, or was she paler than normal? The shadows of this dark room brought out the hollows in her cheeks and under her eyes. He could see the sheen of tear tracks on her skin. Unwashed hair hung limply around her face. Her lower lip was dark and swollen from where she had been biting it.

For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin didn’t move or speak. Mrs. Gold hadn’t noticed his arrival. Briefly, he wondered if she was drunk again. If she was trying to deaden the pain of her existence by deadening every other sense. But no, there were no bottles anywhere nearby. Mrs. Gold’s pain by itself was enough to deaden her senses.

He turned on a lamp and let a soft golden glow invade the harsh blue. Mrs. Gold jumped out of her daze. Unlike other times when Rumpelstiltskin had surprised Mrs. Gold, she didn’t hop to attention like a trained animal. She didn’t stand up and present her body for his approval, she didn’t kneel before him like a slave. Instead, Mrs. Gold sank back into the corner of the couch. She wrapped the blanket tightly around herself. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him in silence.

She was afraid.

When she had looked at him like this before, Mrs. Gold had been afraid of what she knew was coming. She knew how cruel her husband was, what the consequences were of displeasing him. But now it seemed she was afraid of the unknown. She had said it herself: All that matters is that I don’t know who you are. Whether she knew it or not, Mrs. Gold was afraid of Rumpelstiltskin.

“Hi,” he said softly. He tried not to alarm her any further.

“Hi,” she answered, still staring at him. She didn’t let her guard down. She muted the television and turned to face him.

“I… I didn’t know if you would still be here.”

Mrs. Gold shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She broke their eye contact and looked down. “I didn’t know if yo u would let me come back if I left.”

Rumpelstiltskin clenched his fist around his cane. Was her uncertainty a reflection of Gold, or of himself? Gold had done so much to hurt his wife, but Rumpelstiltskin was the one who had hurt her most recently. He was the one who had made her like this.

“Mrs. Gold,” he said. “Please, I know things are… confusing right now. But please know that this is always your home, and I will always provide for you.”

“Why?” The word was a whisper in a silent house, but it carried all the weight of the world. “You’re not fucking me. You don’t even like me. Why do you bother with me?”

The chipped cup was still in his hand. He set it down on an end table and moved to sit in one of the high-backed chairs across from the couch. Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward, his arms on his knees as he spoke to Mrs. Gold.

“Because I have a duty to you,” he answered. “I have a responsibility to care for you.”

She snorted and shook her head.

“To take care of you,” Rumpelstiltskin amended. “I owe you that much, Mrs. Gold. It is the absolute least I can do.”

“How nice of you.” Her voice shook with bitterness. “How super fucking charitable! How long will that last, do you think? How long until you get tired of doing the least you can do?”

Mrs. Gold’s hands twisted in the blanket. Her face screwed up into the picture of unspoken agony. She let her hair hang over her face and took a few ragged, sobbing breaths.

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to comfort her. Belle or not, she was a woman in pain and he knew that he could soothe her. That was the least he could do.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

He stayed in the chair, shoulders slumped, and waited for her to calm herself.

“Mrs. Gold,” he tried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be the man you married.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Is that it?” On the couch, Mrs. Gold was shaking. “Are we… Is it over? Us? Our marriage?”

“No,” Rumpelstiltskin spoke before he could think. “No, I want you with me, dear. I don’t… I don’t want us to be separated.”

“But you don’t want us to be together.” She wiped her cheek with the palm of her hand. “Not like we were before.”

“I know it’s complicated,” he said. “I wish I could tell you more. Truly I do. But right now let’s just say that I have enemies and you are better off under my protection. All I’m asking is for you to trust me.”

She let out a shaking breath that could have been a laugh or a sob. “Does Belle trust you?”

It was a strange thing to hear Mrs. Gold say. Belle’s voice, saying her own name with so much suspicion and loathing.

“Yes,” he answered. “Belle trusts me with her life, though I’m not always worthy of it.”

For a long time, Mrs. Gold didn’t say anything. She shook her head, rocking slightly on the couch as tears streamed silently down her face.

And Rumpelstiltskin sat there. Doing nothing.

When Mrs. Gold was able to speak, she asked him: “Why aren’t you with her now?”

“With Belle?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I mean, you’re still a man who can get whatever he wants. If she’s so important to you, why aren’t the two of you together?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed, trying to think of something plausible to say. “We want to be,” he started. “But, well, Belle is very far away from me right now.”

“What, does she live in fucking Australia or something? Or is she married too?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said in a tone he knew would make Mrs. Gold drop the topic. “What matters is that I have a responsibility to you, and I’m not going to shirk that just because I’m in love with someone else.”

Mrs. Gold winced, but then it turned into a grim smile. “Never thought I’d hear you say that you loved anyone, Mr. Gold. That’s why I never took it personally that you didn’t love me.” Abruptly, she stood up. “I’ll move my clothes over to the guest bedroom.”

“You can have the master--”

“No,” she cut him off. She seemed to have run out of emotions, and was now running on brutal practicality. “You need the bathroom in the master suite because of your leg. I won’t have as hard a time with the tub in the hall bathroom.”

“That’s… very thoughtful of you.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think.” She sighed and turned off the muted television. Now her half of the room was in darkness. “Believe it or not, this isn’t the worst deal you could have offered me.”

“What deal?” Rumpelstiltskin asked. He had been trying to be honest with her. He wasn’t aware that they had been negotiating.

“A loveless marriage for a life of comfort.” She kept herself busy by folding her blanket and putting it away in a cedar chest. She didn’t look at him. “It is mostly the same as what we had before.”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her as she walked out of the living room.

“Good night, Mr. Gold,” she said formally. “I’m glad you found your teacup.”

By the time he gathered himself enough to speak, she was already upstairs. A door slammed, and Rumpelstiltskin hung his head.

So this was the future he was going to have with his wife.

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle angst

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eirian-houpe · 3 years

Text

Modern Wonders - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), Alice (TV 2009)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Grumpy | Leroy, Hatter (Alice TV 2009), Dodo (Alice TV 2009), Queen of Hearts (Alice TV 2009), Carpenter (Alice TV 2009), Mad March (Alice TV 2009), The White Rabbit | Agent White (Alice TV 2009), Doormouse (Alice TV 2009), Widow Lucas | Granny, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Wonderland, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Pining, UST, Violence, Psychological Torture, Torture, Exploitation, Revenge, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Reconciliation

Summary: Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and when Regina casts Rumple's Dark Curse, just a few words here and there creates Storybrooke in a very different place, with a very different atmosphere, and very different issues to deal with. Alliances and enmity permeate the lives of the citizens of Storybrooke, (and beyond), as they tiptoe around the various dangers they face every day. Who is awake? How can they break the curse within a curse? And what of the power struggles rife both within, and outside of Storybrooke itself.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 2 - Storybrooke

The gold handled cane did him little good in the surroundings outside, the broken terrain, but within the confines of the shanty town that was Storybrooke Gold’s stride was long, and confident, more like a lord measuring out his demesne than a poor crippled pawn broker living on the deals and heartbreak of others. He smiled wickedly to himself to think of the impression he gave to others, and the thrall he kept them under in spite of appearances.

Oh, if only they knew.

Storybrooke was not as ‘dead’ as they thought - or rather, as Regina thought - because Storybrooke was a tiny little bubble within the larger cesspit that was Wonderland, and he had the advantage. He had been here before… with Jefferson - and he frowned.

Since their arrival he couldn’t remember having seen Jefferson, not even lurking in the mansion that Regina had meant as his prison… his torment, to be shut away from his Grace. He made a mental note to pay the man a visit, determined to unlock the conundrum. Of course no one else cared. No one else was awake… and he wasn’t meant to be, he was sure of it - another conundrum for him to unravel.

“Um… Mi— Mister Gold, I ah… that is…”

Gold halted on the paved sidewalk, and turned his head to watch as Archie Hopper, umbrella in hand - in preparation for what rain, Gold wondered - cross the deserted street toward him.

“Doctor Hopper,” he greeted the man with false cheer. “A pleasure, but out with it, man, I haven’t got all day.”

“Oh, I… um…” Hopper pushed his glasses up along his nose, back into place, “I wondered if you’d had a chance to consider my… ah… proposition?”

“Ah, yes,” Gold purred. “Walk with me, won’t you?”

Gold turned without waiting for the good doctor’s agreement or otherwise, and set a slower pace toward Granny’s diner. With the library still closed, it was the one place left open for informal, communal gatherings. Of all of Storybrooke’s other, cursed, inhabitants, the proprietor was someone for whom he had a good deal of respect. Tough as nails, no nonsense, Widow Lucas was as upstanding a pillar of the community that Storybrooke possessed.

All the rest were crumbling; as crumbling as the buildings and the streets of Storybrooke itself. Gold wondered if anyone else had noticed.

It was subtle. The odd crack in a sidewalk here, the tendril of a vine there, a wall, beginning to crumble and weeds reclaiming a spot or two in the well manicured gardens. Subtle, but unmistakable. Wonderland was reclaiming its own.

“I’ve give it a good deal of thought, as a matter of fact,” Gold told Hopper before he allowed his observations to run away with him. “And while, obviously, as an upstanding member of our town council, I can’t condone what you’re suggesting…” he left a long pause as they reached the diner’s doorstep, whereupon, lowering his voice to a dangerous growl, he blocked Doctor Hoppers path with his arm, stretched across the doorway, and said, “I think it might be just what some people in this town need.”

Whale growled softly and turned away from the window. It wasn’t the paint, peeling, that was the cause of his frustration, but the fact that he couldn’t reconcile the feeling that was flowing through him, and the sky outside of the hospital. It was almost cloudless.

He was, he tried to tell Sheriff Humbert when the man called in to find out about his latest patient who had been found wandering - raving by all accounts - about some kind of ‘door,’ a doctor and not an investigator. The sheriff however, refused to help him get to the truth about his patient’s ramblings.

“This isn’t Narnia,” he said in a somewhat poor display of bedside manner, “there are no doors to other, magical kingdoms. No witches, no wizards, no—”

“Yeah?” the citizen interrupted. “How do you explain this then?” Whereupon he pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the strange, abstract shape standing out raw and painful looking on his arm.

“A uh… tattoo?” Doctor Whale suggested in an overly patient tone. “And a somewhat fresh one from what I can tell.”

“Uh-huh,” the patient argued, “And you get em just like that,” he snapped his fingers somewhat inexpertly, “do ya?” He jerked his head toward the window. “When the sun shines on ya?”

“Sheriff Humbert, please,” Whale turned his attention to the man hovering uncomfortably in the doorway, looking as guilty as sin and extremely distracted. “You see? You can at least tell me where you picked this man up, and if there were, indeed, a door there?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but… there’s nothing I can tell you,” Humbert answered. “I’d like to tell you I saw a door, but the truth is, I was far too worried about your patient here to pay too much attention. His safety was my priority.” He took a breath and added far too hurriedly in Whale’s opinion, “Anyway, I just called round to see how he was getting along. Can’t stay though,” he said. “I’ve a council meeting, that I have to get to in,” he glanced at his watch, “ten minutes. And the mayor doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Then he left, and Whale remained, alone and without explanation standing beside the hospital window staring at the wrongly colored sky.

Gold sighed softly as the bell over the shop door tinkled to announce an unwanted caller. He wasn’t sure why he expected that simply displaying a ‘closed’ sign would discourage random visitors, and mused to himself that perhaps locking the door might be a more effective deterrent.

Taking his time, he picked up the cloth from the workbench and carefully began wiping his fingers clean of the gear oil which he had been using on the innards of a delicate clock, even as he made his way out of the back room, and into the shop, limping as he went.

“Madam Mayor,” he said as he set eyes on Regina standing practically tapping her foot with annoyance at having to wait. He kept his tone light, appreciative, as if to imply he respected that someone so important was going out of their way to be in his presence. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Cut the crap, Gold,” Regina snapped, by way of a return to his greeting. “What did you do!”

So she has noticed.

“I’m… sorry,” he said slowly, “I don’t follow.”

“It’s a simple question,” she growled. “What. Did. You. Do? Everything’s coming unraveled.”

“Unraveled?” he echoed, deciding that he would continue to feign ignorance for as long as he were able; see what he could find out - what she would let slip. “I’m afraid I haven’t done anything, and I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He put the slightest hint of pique into his voice at the end of his assertion, to make it convincing, then for good measure, added, “If it’s something woven, or a knitted blanket, I’d be happy to take a look at it. It wouldn’t be the first time that—”

Regina’s hand slammed down onto the top of one of the glass cased, rattling the contents within as she snarled, “Drop it, Gold. I know you’re awake. Not that you’re supposed to be. Jefferson was the only one I—”

So, my old friend is in Wonderland too. He’s not going to be happy with that.

“Awake?” Gold interrupted, then with a confused laugh in his voice he added, “Regina, you’re not making any sense. Of course I’m awake. I’m standing here, talking to you - was just fixing a clock out back, so unless I fell asleep while I was working and this is all a dream—”

He made a mental note to take another walk around Storybrooke some time very soon, to check on Grace, and hoped with all his heart that she was safe; almost that she wasn’t here - that whatever had diverted the curse to Wonderland had spared her.

Regina growled, cutting off his words, and his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow, undecided whether to reveal himself in that moment, or to play the game a little longer. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“The borders are failing,” she said harshly. “This wretched realm is encroaching on my town. So if you had anything to do with that, Gold, so help me…”

It was the threat that broke his resolve to pretend he was not awake. No one, least of all Regina threatened Gold on his own turf, and the shop was his turf in more ways than one.

“Well, well, well…” his voice was more of a low rumble in his chest, and he took his cane in hand and walked toward, and then around Regina until he was barely behind her, and purred in her ear, “…Dearie…” Even so, confessing he was awake was one thing, revealing he had magic, that was quite something else. “Things not going quite how you planned?”

“I know you have something to do with this,” she accused.

He circled around the rest of the way to come and lean against one of the display cases, looking far more casual than he felt as he looked her up and down, before he said, “Now, what makes you think,” he pointed at her, “that even if I had the power to - what was it you said - ‘unravel’ this little town of yours, that I’d even waste my time trying.” As he spoke of himself, he jabbed his thumb against his own chest, the grandeur of the gesture far more reminiscent of his Enchanted Forest form than the upright, uptight Mister Gold of Storybrooke.

“What you should be asking, dearie,” he rumbled, “is who would have the kind of magic necessary to mess with my Dark Curse?”

#rumbelle #au.#cursed storybrooke #wonderland #drug use #recreational drug use #pining #ust #psychological torture #violence #torture #exploitation #revenge #eventual romance #eventual smut #reconciliation #Modern Wonders #i will always write jefferson

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years

Text

Harry Hook x pan! reader Oneshot - quartermaster?

requested by @lowkeyaesthvtic

May I have a request where the reader is the daughter of Peter Pan (the OUAT one that was a villain) and she wants to get closer to Harry (they’re already dating) but can’t do that unless she convinces Uma to be a second “first mate?” Harry could help too if you want.

the daughter of peter pan, that’s who you were, known to be the daughter of one of the evilest villains in history, and when Auradon had been created, beast, aka Rumplestiltskin, and belle, who looked awfully similar to the blue fairy for some reason. Had banished Pan to the isle of the lost, along with many other villains, including the once pirate villain “captain hook”, forcing him to leave his wife and his children were forced to follow him.

The people of Auradon forced rumples hand and he regrettably sent Killian, Hope, Harrison, and Calista Jane to the isle, the youngest only a couple months old.

“We can't have the children of villains here, they'll kill us all!!” the people of Auradon cried

Fools, rumple was a villain once upon a time and they seemed to have conveniently forgotten that.

Though now he called himself Adam and cast a permanent illusion that made him look different.

So now you sat in the caves near the crocodile shores, leaning against a midsized croc, named Gorvan, the spawn of tick-tock. (for some reason the crocs from the Disney version of peter pan were also on the isle, no one really cared, they were mostly chill unless you purposely aggravated them)

Waiting for your boyfriend Harry Hook.

Now you might be thinking

‘hey? Aren’t pan and hook enemies?’ and you would be correct, Captain Hook and Peter Pan were enemies, but Hook had killed Pan only a couple of months after arriving at the isle, as the demon-like boys magic no longer existed, so he died from his wounds, and the barrier, which prevented death (unless from old age), had not cared to resurrect pan.

so your mother, who was eight months pregnant with you, asked Killian to not hold the fact of who your parent was over your head, and he had agreed, never referring to you as pans daughter, but your own annoying but tolerable person.

A person that loved his son, he had been slightly weirded out when he discovered your relationship with harry, before shrugging, he had no room to talk, he married the daughter of snow white and prince charming.

“lassie?! You in here?!” Gorvan popped his head up, recognizing Harry's voice, and stood, making you fall back when your pillow left and trotted to where Harry was standing at the entrance, too afraid to enter the den of the crocs.

“nonononon stay away!!! You beast get back!!! (y/n)!!” you sighed and stood, going to where you heard Harry's panicked babbling.

“really harry?” you groaned, patting the scaly head of the teen croc, gorvan seemed to snicker and trotted into a corner, giving harry space to climb down from a tree just outside the cave entrance.

“You can come down now, he's in the corner”

“but he's still watching” Harry whined, tightly clutching to the heavy branch he was on.

You sighed, nodding at your shadow, who nodded back, walking over to where Harry's shadow was being cast and picked it up, making harry float up from the branch, he yelped, wriggling around.

“h-hey! Do yeh have teh do this every time?!” he screeched, your shadow dropping his next to you, making harry plop down on his butt at your feet.

“well if you actually came down I wouldn’t have to” you smiled down at him, he grumbled standing up, wiping the back of his jacket, dust falling.

“whatever” he crossed his arms pouting at you. “so hooky” you cooed, still grinning, stepping closer to the pirate. “got any new plans to help me get into the crew?’

Harry sighed “no, uma is adamant on not letting yeh on the crew, even as a low-level member.”

“ugg” you groaned, whyyyy? Harry's place as the first mate prevented the two of you from bonding more, as boyfriend and girlfriend at least, you two had grown up together, knowing almost everything about each other, but still umas crew took a lot of Harrys time, and you understood! You had the lost kids to worry over, a lot of which had asked a while ago to join uma nad you let them, uma was an amazing leader, you weren’t really thinking of the fact that they preferred her over you, you were more worried over their protection.

And plus they still bunkered down at the campout a lot so it's not like they completely abandoned you.

“do you know why?” you asked, messing with the thin material of Harry's sleeveless hoodie. Harry sighed nodding.

“aye, she finally gave meh the reason, instead of just ransom reasons”

You peered at Harry, raising your brow “oh, do tell”

“she thinks that if yeh join we would distract each other from our duties, shed rather our relationship be a factor in the crew”

You rolled your eyes “seriously! Im like the best at separating relationships from work! You know that! She should know that!”

Harry nodded, he had seen your ability to do that himself. awhile ago mad Maddy, who had been one of your best friends at the time, had stolen and hurt Fiona, Felix's daughter, and you had separated the relationship you had with her and gone after her, forgoing your relationship with her to do your duty as leader of the lost kids.

You had told her it was nothing personal, but she didn’t care. and after the split of the vks after the shrimpy incident, the two of you split, you siding with uma, while Maddy sided with mal.

You sighed, you couldn’t force uma to let you onto the crew, she was captain, it was up to her.

“fine” you mumbled, letting your weight go and bumping your forehead onto Harry's torso/shoulder, pouting into his skin “whatever”

Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around you, “don’t worry lass, we’ll figure this out”

You nodded, rubbing your face into his jacket.

----

Uma sighed, one of her newer members was an absolute idiot, stealing from pan. Her and (y/n) had an agreement, you don’t bother me I won't bother you, and the new idiot, kyle, son of Hans, wanted to prove himself, choosing to steal something important from pan.

A small bottle, filled with dust, pixie dust, now kyle didn’t know what he stole, he just found the bottle in a locked box, thought It was something her mother or peter gave (y/n) before dying and stole it. Thinking it would get him points with uma.

It didn’t.

Uma paced the deck, harry front and center, she hoped that Harry's relationship with (y/n) would convince her to back down, and simply ask for the dust back.

Oh, boy was she wrong.

(y/n) had arrived, three lost kids for each pirate crew member, glaring them down.

“uma” you called, flipping your blade in your hand, drifting your eyes over umas crew, locking eyes with harry for a moment, who gestured to kyle. “I believe you have something of mine, I want it back”

Uma was willing to back down, but her crew yelled out in protest, and she sighed, well, can't disappoint the crew, that would also ruin her reputation, she drew her sword, staring into the girls (e/c) eyes.

“then take it”

The sound of pirates and lost kids clashing sounded across the cove, you started toward uma, leader vs leader.

Harry hopped in front of her, grinning at you, hand on his sword and hook pointed at you.

“Hello love” you smirked, cocking your hip.

“hey hooky”

“would yeh mind stepping down, for meh~?” he gave you that grin, the one that usually could melt you into a puddle.

Not today, you had a mission. A duty.

“Sorry dude” you raced forward, taking advantage of him not drawing his sword, stealing his hook, tripping him, and rolling him off your back and into the shallows.

“duty calls”

Uma stood surprised, she thought that a simple wink from harry would make you back down, not wanting to hurt him due to your relationship.

But you straight up just dunked harry into the water.

Umas sword clashed with yours, and you fought, a fast-paced dance between blades and uma somehow got the upper hand, flinging your sword away and knocking you back.

You fell with a grunt, seeing a certain someone behind uma. You got out your crossbow, opening the bolt bag at your side, and loading it.

You looked up, seeing Fiona pushing uma down, her larger stature easily overpowering ume.

You aimed the crossbow, the shot lining with umas ribs.

“(y/n)! don’t!” you heard harry scream, obviously thinking you were about to shoot uma, but you ignored him, Fiona shoved uma to the floor and pinned her.

You took the shoot.

The blot flew thought the air soaring past where uma stood only a moment ago, landing in kyles arm, he screamed in pain, releasing his sword, kneeling down and clutching his arm.

“AHHH!!!!” you stood, closing the bows of the crossbow and swinging it to lay on your back, stepping over umas arm and kneeling next to kyle, face blank.

“ill have that bottle you took”

Kyle nodded, tears and snot running down his face, digging into his jacket pocket and bringing out the small bottle of dust and fumbling to hand it to you.

“good boy” you muttered, taking the bottle and ripping the bolt from his arm, kyle crying out in pain again.

You stood, walking over to uma, and shoving Fiona off of her “sorry uma, but this stuff is not to leave my person, your crew member violated our agreement as well” uma took your hand, letting you pull her up.

“I know I know” she sighed, picking up her hat from the floor glaring down at Kyle, who was still whimpering on the floor, “I tell every single crew member to leave your territory alone, and this idiot steals” she gestures to the bottle “that”

You laughed, your lost kids now backing off from the crew, talking to the ex lost kids now on the crew. If their leaders got along, no reason to fight.

“yeah, so see ya later cap’n” you saluted to her, turning and walking off the ship, waggling your fingers at harry, who winked back.

“ see ya later hooky, sorry bout dunking ya!”

“at least there were no crocs” he yelled back with a smile, seeing you laugh, walking off with your lost kids to head to the hideout.

Harry sighed, staring after you, he wants to follow, but uma probably needed him here.

Uma walked up, seeing Harry's look.

“so harry?” she started, waiting for Harry to look at her “do you think (y/n) still wants to join?”

Harry's jaw dropped, “wha? But I thought ye said-“

“I know what I said, now tell (y/n) that the position for quartermaster is open”

“quartermaster?” Harry repeated, confused.

“yes quartermaster, now go get her! And tell the lost kids they are welcome to join”

harry grinned, nodding and racing off the ship, calling your name.

---the end---

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harryhook #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #pan! reader #tick toc

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rumpledgoldenweaver · 5 years

Text

A Bear In Need Of Rescue

Written for the January @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt “How on earth did you get up there?” It kind of got away from a bear in trouble but I hope you enjoy anyway! Read on my blog https://earlyrisingwriting.home.blog/2020/01/09/a-bear-in-need-of-rescue/

Rumple had never felt so relieved as when he pulled into the car park of the hotel, almost immediately finding a space. Switching off the engine he let out a small sigh. Gideon had fallen asleep at some point and Rumple was loath to wake him. Fishing his phone from the glove compartment, he sent Belle a text message saying they were finally here. He decided to wait for her reply instead of getting straight out of the car. He had a slight headache so a couple of minutes quiet wouldn’t hurt. Closing his eyes he gave a small thanks to the car park gods.

Maybe he could book a head massage.. maybe Belle would give him a…

Tyres squealed, an engine roared then a car screamed through the previously silent parking bays jolting both Rumple and Gideon awake.

“What the ever loving fu..”

“PAPA! You sweared! Mama won’t.. PAPA! Look!! it’s a police car!!!” Gideon bounced in his seat.

Sure enough an unmarked squad car hurtled after the first vehicle, disappearing towards the rear of the hotel.

“Your Mama takes us to all the best places Gideon.. come on m’boy, lets go find her before either of those lunatics come back”

“Gideon keep your voice down, the whole hotel doesn’t need to hear you” Belle admonished gently “I know it’s all very exciting but..”

“It was Mama it was! The police car went MEEEMAW MEEEMAW VRRROOOOOOM”

Rumple shook his head “There’s a children’s area in the grounds of the hotel, would you like to go play for a while son?”

“It’s nearly bath time” began Belle

“You really think he’s ready for a bath and bed? He’s bouncing off the walls, he napped on the way here. Let’s take him, it might tire him out”

“Can I take Bear please? Can I? Can I?”

“Okay okay” groaned Belle knowing she was already defeated “but don’t lose him”

Gideon’s over excitement at the police chase was swiftly replaced by over excitement at the play area

“IT’S A PIRATE SHIP!!! C’mon Bear we’re going to sail the seven seas and chase booty!”

Belle nearly choked “He’s going to what did he say?”

Rumple chuckled “Let’s find a bench and sit down, I’m far too old to chase after him. As long as we can see him he’ll be fine”

“Don’t need to see him, we’ll hear him”

Lucy was bored, she’d been at the play area for fifteen minutes with her doll Tinkerbell. There were other children there but they just wanted to play house. Lucy preferred adventure. She spotted a boy, slightly younger than her, chasing round, pretending to sword fight and clutching a teddy bear. Now he looked like fun.

“Hello. I’m Lucy. This is Tinkerbell, she can fly!”

Gideon stopped his sword fight “I’m Gideon. This is Bear.. he can fly too”

“Bears cannot fly”

“Yes they can. Watch!” Gideon threw Bear up into the air with all his might.

In the middle of the pirate ship was a tall mast. Near the top was a mock crows nest. It wasn’t big enough for a child, but it was big enough for a bear. Which was just as well because that’s where he landed with a soft thump.

Lucy looked in horror. Gideon stood with his mouth open “Oops”

“I can’t believe they got away” Weaver strode through the hotel reception. He needed fresh air.

“They can’t have got far. They have the advantage of knowing the area, we don’t” reasoned Rogers “I’ve asked the local police to put out extra patrols and.. did you hear that? Sounds like a kid in trouble”

Weaver snorted “Kids are always in trouble, it’s what they do”

“Look - over there, in the play area. There’s nothing we can do about the case for the moment. Maybe if we help then the hotel might forgive us for tearing up the car park”

“Okay Batman let’s go save the day”

As is often the case with parents who’s children have got themselves into a scrape, Rumple and Belle were verging on the kind of full scale public row generally conducted through gritted teeth and harsh whispers

“I cannot climb up after him Belle, let me use mag..”

“NO. I’ll go up after him”

“Not in those heels you won’t”

“No shit Sherlock. I’ll take them off”

“And certainly not in that skirt”

“EXCUSE ME? What is wrong with my...”

“Hi” said a dark haired young man who had suddenly appeared by Belle’s side “I’m Detective Rogers and this is Detective Weaver” he indicated a surly looking older man who reminded Belle slightly of her husband “Can we help?”

“It’s our son – he’s stuck. He’s too scared to climb down”

Weaver followed her line of sight, Sure enough there was a young boy clinging on to the mast of the wooden ship “How on earth did you get up there?”

“Bear flew up here. I came to rescue him”

“Oh I see” Weaver nodded sagely “That was very brave, but now you need rescuing?”

“Yes please” whimpered the boy

“Well you’re in luck because Detective Rogers here is the best rescuer I know”

Rogers looked at Weaver “Me?”

“Yes you. Off you go”

“Right then mate, let’s get you back on dry land shall we?” Rogers smiled as he started to climb the small rungs that were set into the mast. He reached Gideon easily “Now then, where’s this errant bear? In here?” he reached into the wooden bucket and retrieved the teddy.

“Thank you” sniffed Gideon

“No problem. I’ll climb back down a little and you follow. You won’t fall, just keep going”

Slowly the two of them made their way toward the ground.

“What’s your name son?”

“Gideon”

“Nice to meet you, I’m..”

“Captain Hook!” exclaimed Gideon suddenly noticing his prosthetic “Mama! Papa! I’ve been rescued by Captain Hook!”

Weaver tried hard to contain his laughter however it exploded out of him in a coughing fit.

Belle and Rumple were mortified “I am so sorry” they both began at once.

Rogers waved it away “It’s fine honestly. If it makes the lad feel better I don’t mind at all”

Rumple handed over a business card “If there is ever anything I can help with, just call”

The two officers started to head off when Weaver’s phone rang.

“Yes” there was a pause then “When? Which direction? Okay” he snapped the device shut “They’re on the move Rogers, come on”

The Gold’s watched the men hurry off in pursuit of their quarry. Rumple presumed it must be the boy racers from the car park. Out of sheer nosiness he used his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop on their conversation. It seemed the reprobates in question were headed out of the city with the local police force giving chase. A germ of an idea took root in Rumple’s mind. Would it be so bad if he gave a helping hand?

“Are you listening to me” Belle’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Sorry.. I was just..”

“Thinking of using magic. I know that look Rumple. Why?”

“I want to help them” he’d learned the hard way about not telling his wife the truth “they got our son to safety”

“Okay.. but there’s no magic here so how can you do that?”

“I don’t need magic as such. Just the dagger” he tapped his jacket where the blade lay hidden “You take Gideon back to the room, he’s had enough excitement for one day. I promise to tell you everything when I’m done”

Belle wanted to argue, but she’d learned some hard lessons during their relationship as well so she simply nodded and did as he asked. It wouldn’t stop her from worrying though.

Rumple waited till she was out of sight then found a bench to sit on set far enough back into the gardens he wouldn’t be disturbed. He didn’t need long. He took the dagger from his jacket, closing his eyes, reaching into the very depths of his soul to give the darkness a prod.

“What can I do for you Dearie”

“Would you like a trip out?”

“Ooh lovely! Where are we going?”

“Not me. You”

“Put your foot down Heller! The cops are gaining on us”

“I’m going as fast as this heap will go. If you wanted faster you shouldda got a car with an actual engine in it instead of a hair dryer!”

“Just get us out of here and onto the main highway” Hades growled

“Hello Dearies!”

The two men shot round to see the weirdest looking man.. Was it a man? sitting on the back seat. He had wild hair, green skin and reptilian eyes.

“What the f… shit!” Heller swerved the car, across the road, to avoid rear ending the vehicle in front then back again to miss an oncoming truck. Horns blared and language flew from the other drivers in their wake.

“I don’t think much of your driving skills” the imp huffed. Waving a clawed hand he took control of the car bumping it up onto the pavement, driving straight into a large overgrown hedge. Heller and Hades made to get out but the Dark One was too quick, a snap of his fingers sent both of them to sleep. Finally he took a small pouch from his waistcoat pocket, emptying the contents – some of the more exotic mushrooms the Enchanted Forest had to offer – over the back seat then disappeared.

Weaver had just got back to his car when the phone rang again. He frowned as the officer related the details of the arrest to him.

“A what in the car? A green skinned imp… mushrooms? That explains a lot. We’re on our way. Thank you Officer Humbert”

“Say what now..?” laughed Rogers “Oh my..”

Weaver grinned “Come on Captain Hook, we’ll wrap this up and go raise a glass to our little green friend”

“Less of the little if you don’t mind Detective”

Weaver looked round in surprise “Did you hear that?”

Worry started to gnaw it’s way from the pit of Belle’s stomach to the forefront of her mind. Almost an hour had passed since they’d left Rumple in the gardens to do who knew what using means she probably wouldn’t approve of. Gideon was sound asleep on the sofa bed, clutching Bear tightly.

Picking up her phone and putting it back down again did nothing to make it ring. Unable to settle she decided to take the towels left on the bed by housekeeping and stack them in the bathroom. In order of size. Anything to distract herself.

She had just finished reorganising the pile into a pyramid when she thought she heard something. There was a faint knocking sound coming from outside the room. She walked quickly to the door and put her ear to it

“Belle.. Belle it’s me. I can’t.. I can’t get in”

“Rumple! Hang on.. just hang on!”

She turned the lock, pulled open the door only to have her husband almost fall on top of her. He looked very pale.

“What on earth happened? Rumple? Rumple! Are you okay?”

She manoeuvred him to the bed, sitting him down before he fell again.

“So tired Belle, need to sleep..”

“I’ll get you a glass of water and then help you into..” A snore cut off the rest of the sentence. “Bed” she sighed.

At least he was there and in one piece she told herself. So much for this fun family weekend. She supposed she should get him undressed even if the sheer number of clothes he had on meant that would be no easy task. Certainly there were more agreeable circumstances to peel off the layers one by one.

Rumple wasn’t the largest of men but in such a deep sleep he was a dead weight. It took her almost twenty five minutes to complete the task. “Why” she muttered as she put his suit back in it’s bag “can you not wear jeans and a shirt? I bet it doesn’t take that detective’s wife half an hour to get his clothes off”

With her husband a little more comfy, Belle decided a glass of wine was in order. A glint of metal caught her eye, the dagger was lying on the bed next to it’s owner, almost winking at her. Before she could stop herself the blade was in her hands “Dark One I summon thee” she whispered.

Rumple turned on his side and snored even louder.

“Y’know Dearie” a familiar voice trilled behind her “of all the humans I’ve been attached to over the centuries, your husband is easily the most charming”

Belle couldn’t help but snigger “Will he be okay?”

A green skinned hand touched her shoulder “He’ll be fine. Promise”

“What did you two get up to?”

The Dark One giggled “Well Dearie, I got to drive a car, catch some rather pathetic miscreants and I may have left some of those mushrooms from the forest that you were told never to touch as a memento”

“Sounds like fun”

“Oh it was” he grinned “Now I must be going and you Dearie need to get some sleep” he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Belle felt the tingle of magic, she was now dressed in her nightie, all the lights except Gideon’s small bedside lamp had been turned off and the bed covers turned down. Rumple was underneath them. Belle couldn’t help but giggle when she realised his underwear was now on the floor. Snuggled up against his back Belle soon started to drift off.

“Love you”

“Love you too Mrs Gold”

#Rumbelle Fic #a monthly rumbelling #OUAT

12 notes · View notes

chyrstis · 5 years

Text

Rest (and try to relax a little)

Adelaide is a challenge to write, but absolutely priceless to run around with in-game. Between her comments and Sharky’s I’m dying about 70-80% of the time, and wanted to write something light before finally reaching Jacob’s region.

Rating: T Word Count: 3.6K

Link to AO3!

___

Adelaide is not what the Deputy is expecting, not at all. And with the Whitetail Mountains within reach, she decides it’s better to kick back and rest for once.

She just doesn’t realize how much she’s going to need it.

______________

When Sharky mentioned having an Aunt Addie, Hana had to admit that she had a picture in her mind of your stereotypical TV or movie aunt. Liked wine, tried to get real with the kids while remaining cool as hell, and loved their fair share of gossip. This was the case for most of her friends, at least from what they’d tell her.

Her only aunt had been none of those things, engaging little with her until her mother had died, and only through support checks in the mail. So, when stories came up, she went with the movies instead. Built her up that way. It was a sillier, kinder picture, and one that stuck.

So, she went into this building up just what she thought an Aunty Addie could shape up to me, not expecting much different from that.

But then she met Adelaide, and while a few of those boxes did seem like the kind she’d tick, she blew most of the others out of the water when she grabbed an extra rifle and threatened to rip every last dick off of the Peggies left on her property.

It was a stance that was pretty tough to argue against, and once they cleared them out, Adelaide told them both that she would gladly put extra foot to ass for any other task that they needed her for.

That is, until she brought up Tulip.

Tulip, as it happened, was her helicopter. Her missing helicopter. Hana tried not to break out in a sweat as Adelaide covered the basics of what had happened, how she was precious, and how she wanted her back in one solid, functional piece.

The key words being one, solid, and functional. The odds were not looking good.

Prayer was not her thing. Not even remotely, but she did make a few pleas for mercy as she and Sharky proceeded to shoot down two helicopters in the pursuit of the third. And when she climbed into Adelaide’s pride and joy and stared at the controls, she muttered every reassurance in the book before taking to the air.

The true test came when they were coming in for a landing.

The last chopper she landed she broke the landing gear of. Somehow found a way to bust it while landing it outside of the jail with minimal effort.

The thumbs up Sharky gave her on the descent almost felt like a cruel joke, but she held her breath as they touched down. Squeezed her eyes shut when she really shouldn’t have.

But no alarms went off, Sharky didn’t start yelling for them to bail, and when she opened an eye to check, saw in the distance only the pleased face of one Adelaide Drubman.

The older woman rushed up to meet them, her style cues making Hana think of a saucier Rosie the Riveter, and loved her for it.

“My Tulip! Oh, my beautiful girl, tell me they didn’t hurt you.”

She rested her hands against the helicopter’s frame as the two hopped out, still cooing over it, and Hana tried not to sweat it out at the fact that she could’ve easily pitched the poor vehicle into the side of a mountain. Or could’ve flown in scratched to hell and smoking. Either would’ve been a recipe for hurt feelings all around.

Eventually Adelaide did step back, sighing happily as she took her in recovered ride. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this, and I hope you gave every last one of those goddamn Peggies hell.”

“Fo sho. We lit them up!”

Hana returned the fist-bump Sharky gave her, and found herself grinning like he was. “That, I can totally confirm, and then some.”

“Good. It’s less than what they deserve after royally fucking us after we played nice for the last few years, but it’ll do.” Adelaide set her hands on her hips, and sighed. “It’ll have to.”

The Marina had been shot to hell and back, though most of the buildings had held up to their assault, even with the smoking gunboat left burning by the pier.

“Holy hell. Good thing I was planning on remodeling the place, but…not this early. And not like this.”

She started dragging one of the pallets towards the garage, and Hana tailed Sharky as they ran over to help. Between the three of them, plus Xander and the others Adelaide had working on the marina, they were able to put most of the fires out, and set up watch rotations just in case any retaliation was incoming.

The Drubman Marina was right on the edge of Silver Lake, the largest body of water in the area. If you wanted to take advantage of that, you could use that docking point to transport goods, people, and bliss to any of the Heralds’ chosen territories, and when Faith felt that loss, Adelaide was going to pay for it.

Hell, maybe she could make a call over to the Jail to see if the Sheriff could get a group of people up here. A proper squad for rotations with more firepower to back this up.

She’d still have to get Adelaide’s okay first, but the extra guns wouldn’t hurt, and if the Resistance could get a patrol going here or nearby, the added pushback could be the start to taking the Henbane back. It was an option, and one they badly needed.

“Where are you two headed now?” Adelaide asked, adjusting the dark pink bandana she’d tied around her hair. It’d been rough going earlier, but the older woman hardly showed it. “I wasn’t expecting a visit to begin with, and didn’t think this was going to turn into some kind of a whirlwind two-week holiday. I mean, I’ve got the supplies for it, but…”

“Up north to grab Hurkie.” Sharky jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, aiming towards the mountains in the distance. “Dep here wants to do something pretty damn great, and she wants us along for the ride.”

“Hurk? She wants you two teaming up?” She turned to Hana. “Honey, you do know what these boys are known for, right?”

Hana gave a small shrug, hooking her fingers in her beltloops. “I may have heard a few stories here and there.”

“I’m tempted to ask which, considering you still showed up here with my nephew in tow.”

“Mostly the Testy Festy, and I still can’t believe that’s an actual thing here, but that’s beside the point. I do need their expertise. Not to light giant flaming dicks in fields, per se, but they know their way around explosives, and we do need to light a pretty huge target up.”

“So, spill it. What’s getting blasted, and not in the fun, alcohol-fueled way?”

“Broseph.” Adelaide gave Sharky a look, and he spoke up to clarify. “Stone cold statue Broseph though. Cause if we had a shot at the real him, not gonna lie, I’d go for it. Use the same kind of stuff too.”

Adelaide started to chuckle, looking between the two, and shook her head. “Fucking directly with the Father himself. That sounds almost too good to be true. I thought you were thinking of weeding a few of those goals out, though?”

“Uh, yeah, Aunty Addie, I’ve been doing some more thinking about that.” Sharky made a face, but straightened his posture. “Now, stuff’s still tangled, and I know you said to get on being more proactive in how I want things to go in my life. Planning, short-term, and some long. Mostly short, but a goal’s a goal, man. And not all of them to do with blowing shit up, believe it or not.”

The smile Adelaide gave him, while genuine, had a wry tilt to it. “That’s sounding pretty damn promising.”

“It’s still about fifty-fifty,” he said, waving his hand back and forth. “Er, sixty-forty, if you count the stuff that’ll enable more of that, and if we’re talking Peggies, you really can’t do it halfway without taking a shot at them…”

“Now, hon, you don’t want to be too much trouble.” Adelaide aimed a curious glance at Hana, but her next words were entirely meant for Sharky. “I can respect the fact that you’re trying, but the deputy here might not like being that close to a walking roman candle, let alone one always on the verge of going off.”

“I’ve seen his file,” Hana blurted out, “and he’s already saved my ass a bunch, so it’s all water under the bridge, really.”

Both of Adelaide’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, hell’s bells!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear from one of Earl’s. Water under the bridge? I’ll have to mention that to him the next time I see him.”

Because you totally have the power of handwavium, Han. That’s just what he hired you for.

“Now, the Sheriff, he did give me some authority, but that’s not…I’m not here to-“ She stopped when she noticed both Adelaide’s amusement and Sharky’s hopeful glance, and groaned. “Shit.”

“I’m just teasing. You keep doing you, and long as you’re helping us, Earl’ll keep on loving the hell you’re raising. Mostly,” Adelaide conceded. “If he complains at you too much, though, just send him my way and I’ll set him straight.”

She had been staring at her feet as her face burned, but when Adelaide gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Hana gave her a small smile.

“Now, I meant it earlier. Rest up and get your energy back, because you’re looking more than a little peaked, hon. Like you’ve been running nonstop for three days straight. Tomorrow’s another day. You two can head out then, and hopefully those mountains’ll still be standing. But I can’t say the same for the dickless wonder waiting up north,” she spat. “You see any sign of my ex-husband looking for Hurk, just dodge him. He’ll try to rope you into his run for Senate, and won’t take no for an answer.”

Noted. Double-noted, at that.

Hana looked down at herself, seeing the rumpled mess she’d been rolling around in, and was glad she didn’t have a mirror. “I look that good, huh?”

“You do, and I’m not buttering you up for nothing, but a shower always works wonders, so you let me know if and when you might want to borrow it. Though you might want to wait until…” She raised her eyes to the sky as she thought it over. “Oh, one to two hours from now before heading over. All of this adrenaline’s going to need a wonderful, limber outlet, and lucky for me I have one.”

Adelaide gave her a wink before walking away, her hips swaying all the while as she approached her house. Xander followed soon after once he caught both her direction – and the motion she used to beckon him to follow her - leaving both Hana and Sharky staring after them.

“Wow,” she said, trying to hide a grin. “I was not prepared.”

Sharky cleared his throat, the sound a little strangled. “Yeah. She’s the kind of person that inspires poetry and shit. Lots of it.”

“Poetry, eh? I can see that. Well, what do you say we take her advice and actually stop for a bit after we move the last of this shit back?” She tapped a nearby crate with the heel of her boot. “Though if I stop, there’s a good chance I’m just going to keel over where I’m standing, leaving me with my ass up in the air. Promise to drag me over to a less embarrassing spot if I do?”

“Drag, carry, either way the offer’s still open,” he said, helping her to lift the crate up to take to the garage. “Just gotta warn me first.”

“I did. And consider the offer open on both ends.”

That got a laugh. “Seriously, Dep?”

“I will drag your ass wherever, whenever, if it needs dragging. Don’t laugh, but there was a small period of time when I was thinking about being a firefighter too, and did the test, so…I could lug you around,” she said, giving him a playful grin. “Or just sweep you right off of your feet. I’d be gentle, promise.”

The crate slipped, both of them swearing heavily as she was left to juggle it while Sharky grabbed for it, and it fell right on the toe of Hana’s right boot. She shot right back, holding her foot up as she clenched her arms in front of her, and if she did let out an embarrassing sound, she wasn’t about to admit to it.

“Aw, oh fuck!” Sharky’s hands flew up, reaching for her. “Sorry Dep, I just-“

Hana held up a finger, her lips pinched shut as she hopped in place.

“But-“

“Nope,” she choked out, her foot now moving to the throbbing stage. “Just, give me a sec. I’ll just…walk over there, sit down, and we won’t talk about this.”

“You sure you don’t..?”

“No go, bud,” she said, grimacing. “Just let it go.”

His face fell as she limped away, and she tried not to think about the kick to the feelings that was as well.

Finding a spot in the back, she sat herself down onto a pallet by a set of stacked crates, and closed her eyes as she rested her back against one of them. She flexed her foot, testing it as she propped it up, and was glad that nothing felt broken. It was going to smart for a while, but she could deal with it.

If only she could just kick back for a few. And just…

Something touched her shoulder, giving her a gentle nudge. “Psst.”

“Hmm.”

It nudged her again, and this time she heard a voice. “Hey, chica? You still out?”

“Not out if I’m talking,” she grumbled. “Or actually understanding most of what you’re saying, Shark.”

She shifted, her hands reaching down to adjust how she was sitting only to feel something soft covering her legs. She opened her eyes, taking in the flowery throw covering her, and looked up at Sharky. He had two beers with him. One that he was currently taking a long drink from, and the other he held out when he noticed her eying it.

“God, what time is it?” Everything was dark, short of the fluorescent lights still on in the garage.

“Moon’s up, sun’s down, and we’re all still sober, so there’s plenty of night left to go.”

Hana’s whole body ached when she shifted, moving to get up. The place and the position she’d picked hadn’t done her any favors, but her foot wasn’t hurting, and the spotty sleep did leave her feeling more alert. She was also starting to eyeball the beer dangling from Sharky’s hand. Judging by the way he was waving it in front of her, she wasn’t being subtle about it either.

She took the beer, but didn’t open it. “You should’ve woken me up, man. I wanted to help clear more junk out, get in that shower, or do watch. Whichever.”

“Nah, you wanted to be left alone, and I didn’t wanna wake you up for nothing.” He shrugged and took another drink. “Beer-thirty, though? That’s something.”

“Hey, now. If you’re waking me up to get stuff done and then give me this,” she joked half-heartedly, “I don’t know how good of a help I’ll be mildly soused.”

“You can shoot a Peggie buzzed. I’ve shot a dozen while skating down one shithouse high after torching a bunch of their flowers. It was kinda cool, kinda weird watching three versions of myself kick ass like a movie within a movie, but semi-recommended, cause while there’s a chance it’ll kill you, you really can’t beat that shit.”

“So, I should be cool then?”

“Real fucking frosty.” His eyes lingered on her, before dropping down to her hands. “Uh, so you want help with that?”

Sharky pointed at her beer, the one she’d all but neglected.

“Sure,” she said, handing it over. He popped it open in record time, and Hana made sure to give him a small toast once he handed it back. “Cheers, and here’s to one hell of a long-ass day. Let it finally end.”

He snapped his fingers mid-drink, and swallowed the rest of the beer down with a cough. “Shit, almost forgot. Aunt Addie’s got food indoors, and I wanted to tell you about it before it disappears. She told me not to eat all of the chicken, but it’s been a while since I’ve had food that hasn’t come out of a wrapper or been three days past, and…you might wanna grab it while you can cause leftovers ain’t happening.”

Her stomach reacted accordingly, reminding her that like most people, she needed something solid to run on. Not just coffee, the occasional cigarette, and adrenaline spikes.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, pushing off to sprint towards the main house.

Sharky ran off with her, sticking close even with her head-start. She barely managed to beat him through the door to Adelaide’s, slipping through the doorway only to crash into Xander once inside.

He did beat her to the punch on the last drumstick, however. And seeing as that was a solid trade for what went down earlier, she didn’t complain about it one bit.

---

“Reports are stating that due to drought-like conditions hitting the eastern side of the state, farmers are yielding a third less of their wheat crop, leading to concerns about making ends meet. Costs to improve these conditions through increased irrigation may be too high for them to afford-“

Hana fiddled with the radio in her lap, counting to five before switching it to the other channel.

The music that drifted through was somber and without words, and she could only stand to listen to it for close to a minute before switching back.

“Hospitals are unable to meet the needs of patients, having to turn them away due to being understaffed-“

“Jesus.” She sighed, and set the radio down.

Sitting outside alone on the docks, she’d been unable to sleep after all, opting for watch instead. It’d been quiet – too quiet, and she’d tried not to feel guilty about it – and found herself looking for a distraction before long. Something other than staring down at the dark water below, any skipped stones she’d chucked sinking after two hops.

It was easier to keep her mind blank that way, but it drifted like it always did. Started asking questions about tomorrow that she still didn’t know the answers to, and wasn’t sure she wanted asked to begin with. The news only fed on that, reminding her that outside of this place the world was still running. Still struggling, and though there was a chance they could all manage to save this, it was a drop in the bucket to the rest of the world.

But this was her world now. Had been the moment she took the job. It needed her to pull through this. To care. To keep on pushing, like the others were.

But damn, if the bruises and aches weren’t adding up. She’d scored plenty of new ones after picking up Sharky at the trailer park, joining the others dotting her upper arms. They hadn’t even fully faded yet, and earlier she’d taken the time to count each and every one while staring into the mirror in Adelaide’s bathroom.

Eight. Nine, if she counted the odd mark on her lower back. That was a new record, not that her old one had been hard to break.

She rubbed the back of her neck, idly trying to ease more of the tension out that had settled there, and eventually gave up. Rest really was a luxury, and yet here she was. Taking five on the cusp of heading north straight towards another Seed.

Jacob she could only recall from what she’d read in Dutch’s bunker, and the little she’d seen of him that night at the compound. The blurred photograph and the short breakdown covered only the basics, much like with John and Faith.

He was the one that armed and trained the soldiers of Eden’s Gate, pushed people to turn on each other on a dime, and up in the Whitetail Mountains there were an infinite number of trails to use. Places to hide, and wait, and bide your time if he happened to be the patient kind.

What would he do once she managed to piss him off?

She was going to find out either way, but the uncertainty chafed. Made her hair want to stand on end. It hadn’t taken much effort to get John to step in. Faith had taken a more subtle route, though maybe that had just been the bliss talking. Not her, just a projection that the drug had fed her.

She’d call Dutch in the morning. He always had an ear to the ground, and had to have heard more. Maybe even heard something from up north that she wasn’t privy to yet. What would it hurt?

The rest was up to her. Well, Sharky and her…and Hurk, once they managed to get to him. It was going to turn into a proper party after that, and Jacob would surely come calling then.

The news ended after two more reports, switching to a tune that felt better suited to an old black and white romance flick. One where the two leads were so swept up in each other that little else mattered. It was fun to think about for a few seconds as she listened, trying to picture it.

Hana chucked one last rock far out across the water, watching as it skipped across the surface once, before disappearing.

And as the song went on, she couldn’t help humming along to it.

And I do, and I do.

There is no one else, only you.

Only you, bring me joy, my sweet lover boy.

#far cry 5 #far cry #deputy hana #sharky boshaw #adelaide drubman #fanfiction #this one's actually shorter for once #but I can already tell the next is going to be a doozy #fic series: you'll be okay I promise #FC5 fanfiction

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superonceuponawholock · 5 years

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Chapter Update: Chapter 45 & Since it has been a while links to all the chapters in the story, the other stories in the series.

The New Normal

Sequel to Breaking The Hatter, The Ties That Bind Us & Cursed stories.

AU set right after the curse is broken during season2. Will Jefferson find out Aurora is alive? Can they have their happily ever after in Storybrooke/Enchanted Forest? Will King George's powerplay succeed or will Cora and Hook's plans interfere? Is Science stronger than Magic?

OTP to come at some point in the story- MadSleeping, Frankenwolf, Rumbelle, MadQueen(flashbacks) OutlawQueen MadWhale Brotp.

Prologue – Jefferson has freed Belle hoping that Rumple will do what he cannot and kill Reinga. Once the curse breaks Victor releases everything Jefferson had been telling him for the last twenty-eight years was true. Can his friend ever forgive him for how he has treated him?

Chapter 1- The Dark Curse has been broken and Phillip has finally awoken Princess Aurora. As she comes to deal with life in what is left of the Enchanted Forest, Jefferson is on his way to finally be with his daughter in Storybrooke. Along the way, he runs into an old friend Will Scarlett.

Chapter 2- Aurora, Phillip, and Mulan find Emma and Snow back in the Enchanted Forest. While back in Storybrooke Grace is looking for her father.

Chapter 3 – Victor helps convince his friend Jefferson to push aside his worries and doubts and go to his daughter. After his friend is reunited Victor bumps into Ruby. Back in the Enchanted Forest Aurora gets some assistance from a Knight with ties to her fallen Kingdom.

Chapter 4 – Snow’s frustration with Aurora comes to a head drawing the attention of an Ogre. Everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours has Aurora almost at her breaking point. She needs an ally that she can trust, but who can she actually trust?

Chapter 5 – Victor is trying to keep it together so he goes to talk to his only friend in Storybrooke, Jefferson. During their conversation, he finds out Regina has her vault. He desperately wants Jefferson to break in with him but will Jefferson who just got his daughter back help him? In the Enchanted Forest, Aurora is realizing her waking life may be worse then her dream curse.

Chapter 6 – Jefferson takes Grace to school before his planned meeting with Victor. He quickly realizes walking through town now that the curse is broken is the not the smartest thing for him to do. He runs into more than one person he would be happy never to see again in his life. In the Enchanted Forest Aurora and Emma discuss past loves, before they arrive at Snow’s Castle to find the magical wardrobe and a way back to Storybrooke.

Chapter 7 – On his way to meet Victor Jefferson runs into Rumple. While in the Enchanted Forest Aurora meets Cora for the first time.

Chapter 8 – Jefferson finally makes it to Granny’s to meet Victor. The two of them break into Regina’s vault in search of any helpful magic. But things don’t go as planned and a secret from Victor’s past come to light. Will Jefferson be able to look past the unfortunate mistakes of his friend?

Chapter 9 – Aurora finally falls asleep and renters the dream curse. It seems to feed on her memories and fears even more before giving away to flames. Jefferson still mad from the fall out of Victor’s idea of breaking into Regina’s vault stumbles on King George yet again. Will he seek Rumple’s employment again as a way to protect himself and Grace?

Chapter 10 – Having convinced Phillip the best way to help Snow and Emma return to Storybrooke is to go to the Dark One’s Castle the group starts the journey only to encounter more of Cora’s destruction and a villain from Aurora’s past. Back in Storybrooke, Jefferson is avoiding Victor after their fight, and trying to figure out how best to complete the task Rumple has assigned him. Victor unable to contract Jefferson makes one bad mistake after another.

Chapter 11 – Aurora and Phillip are leading the way to the Dark One’s Castle to find out more about this magical compass to send Emma and Snow back to Storybrooke when Cora sends a deadly distraction. Back in Storybrooke Victor isn’t the only one affected by his action of bringing Daniel back to life.

Chapter 12 - Aurora starts searching the Dark Ones Castle for information on the magical compass Hook’s had informed them of. Her search turns up only painful questions and an unexpected visitor who has taken up residence at the Castle. Back in Storybrooke Victor receives an expected visitor from his world. One he would have been completely happy to never see again.

Chapter 13 – Aurora’s nightmare gives away to the burning red room again, only this time she is not alone. She meets Henry but before she could give much information to him she is pulled out of the dream world. Back in Storybrooke Henry lets Rumple and Regina know he met someone else in the burning red room. Victor gets called in by the Storybrooke Medical Examiner (Dr. Van Helsing) to look at a possible werewolf victim. At school Henry goes to Grace for help with her knowledge of the Enchanted Forest’s past.

Chapter 14 – Jefferson is trying to embrace working for Rumple again. Between the dwarfs’ news, a murder scene, and Victor’s involvement with the Storybrooke Medical Examiner who just happens to be Dr. Van Helsing, he has more than enough information to keep Rumple well informed. Rumple may be pleased to have Jefferson back in his good graces but Regina is not. Victor who has been pulled unwilling into a possible werewolf murder case becomes determined to prove it is King George behind the murder, not Ruby. Henry and Grace compare storybooks and get a shock in the process. Back in the Enchanted Forest Snow misses Henry in the burning red room and Aurora believes she has found information needed to find the compass they seek.

Chapter 15- Aurora informs Snow and Emma where to go to find the magical compass they need to get back to Storybrooke. Phillip convinces everyone it is best to split up with Snow, Emma, Mulan, and Robin going to find the compass while he, Aurora, and Percival head back to restore Aurora’s Castle for her Coronation. Mulan questions Phillip’s actions but agrees to stick to the plan they had formed during the cursed years. Back in Storybrooke Victor believes he has helped save Ruby’s life and promises to use his Science to keep King George locked up and away from her forever. But it seems King George has formed an unlikely alliance and if things go the way he has planned he won’t only soon be a free man but every supernatural creature in Storybrooke’s days will be numbered.

Chapter 16 – Aurora and Percival deal with painful memories of their young lives at the castle, while preparing for Aurora’s Coronation. In Storybrooke Henry tries to stop Regina from destroying Grace’s storybooks. Jefferson and Victor find out King George’s evil plans were more thought out then they all believed, and the question is can Victor’s Science find something to link George to Gus’s murder and keep George behind bars?

Chapter 17- Victor confronts Van Helsing about the evidence from Gus’s murder, but the outcome of the test results is not to his or Ruby’s liking. Back in the Enchanted Forest Aurora is finally crown Queen of her Queen of her Kingdom but Phillip finds a way to steal her crowning moment.

Chapter 18 - Aurora takes time out of the planning of the wedding to challenge one of Phillip’s ruling decisions. Emma tries to convince her to run away but their plan doesn’t go the way Emma had hoped. Back in Storybrooke, Jefferson starts to grow concerned about more than just his and his daughter’s welfare, and Henry can’t believe the mistakes the so-called grow up defenders of the town are about to make.

Chapter 19 – King George newly released from jail meets up with Van Helsing to see how the plan of testing supernatural creatures to find a way to tag them for future use, is going. After the latest science experiments end in death, Van Helsing reassures George he has what he needs to move forward with their plan. David decides he can’t risk Henry any longer and he will enter the dream curse world to find Snow and give her and Emma away back home to Storybrooke. Jefferson, who had just had a run-in with some from his past, is having a hard time with people underestimating just how big of a threat George really is. Back in the Enchanted Forest Emma’s plan for Aurora to escape the castle before the wedding backfired and Aurora finds herself trying one last desperate action before she walks down the aisle to Phillip.

Chapter 20 – Emma conversation with her mother opens her eyes to the truth, and the question is can she stop Aurora in time before she marries Phillip? Hook takes advantage of the Royal Wedding to sneak into Aurora’s bedroom and steal a gift for Cora which will get her back in his favor. While In Storybrooke Henry goes to Jefferson for help to stop his Grandfather from entering the dream curse but Jefferson isn’t too willing to help.

Chapter 21- With some help from Archie, Ruby, and Granny, Victor finally puts together a theory about the missing townspeople. Jefferson confronts Regina and Rumple and only finds himself being dragged into the mess he wants to avoid. Aurora tries to keep her own control after Hook has taken her heart, but her life only seems to be finding ways to become worse.

Chapter 22 –Victor makes Ruby an offer she doesn’t think she could ever turn down, that is until she finds out just who he really is. Worried that Emma and Snow won’t be the ones coming through the portal Regina and Rumple moved to stop anyone from entering Storybrooke. Can Henry and Ruby convince Jefferson to do the right thing and allow Emma and Snow to have a least a chance? Back in the Enchanted Forest Cora uses Aurora to get the compass but who will make it through the portal she opens?

Chapter 23 – OMG the chapter is finally here! Aurora’s gone through the portal, Jefferson is on the other side. What will their reunion be like? What will Rumple and Regina do about it? How relieved will Victor be to find out his invention didn’t lead to Aurora’s death?

Chapter 24 - Victor goes down to the waiting room to bring Jefferson up to Aurora’s hospital room, but Jefferson’s current state of guilt and lack of confidence may not allow him to go to see her. Van Helsing learns about Aurora’s arrival and decides it may be a good chance to test something he was working for King George.

Chapter 25 – Jefferson is torn between what he wants to do and what he feels he should do as he comes to terms with the fact that Aurora is really alive and in Storybrooke. His encounter with Regina doesn’t help him feel better about his decision either way. At the hospital, Victor runs some test to calm Aurora’s nerves as she complains something is right with her. While Aurora is resting Ruby and Victor have a moment where they both confess things they would rather not share about their past before Ruby agrees to let him try to find a cure for her werewolf curse. Unknown to everyone else Cora and Hook arrive in Storybooke.

Chapter 26 – Jefferson’s memories of his happier times with Aurora torture him as he tries to get up the nerve to go for this second chance he has been given. Van Helsing goes to King George with value information on Aurora and Phillip which could aide their quest to destroy magic and all magic creatures.

Chapter 27 - Victor borrows some magical books from Jefferson to hopefully aide his research to help cure Ruby. He tells Jefferson he should use all the magical items Regina brought over to this world to help him find time to be alone with Aurora. Jefferson decides to take the second chance he appears to have been given, but before Aurora could get his message, Rumple decides to call on her.

Chapter 28 – Jefferson finally has gotten Aurora alone to talk about all that has happened over the last thirty-eight years since they each thought the other had died. Will he take Victor’s advice and see if his kiss will bring back Aurora’s magic or will be weak like Rumple was all those years with Belle?

Chapter 29 – True Love’s Kiss has brought back Aurora’s magic, but Jefferson and she are still stuck in the same situation they have always been. With Hook still controlling her heart can she and Jefferson ever have a chance at a happy ending?

Chapter 30 – Jefferson and Aurora are both distressed about how their private conversation went, but Jefferson had his daughter to take care of, and Belle and Ruby found Aurora. Can Belle and Ruby get Aurora settled down and cleaned up before the sleeping powder wears off? King George is on the looking for any chance of a private conversation with Phillip, but if they do find the time to talk who will be using whom?

Chapter 31 – Ruby’s kiss has taken away Victor’s worries of if his Science can keep the fact that Jefferson’s kiss has returned Aurora’s magic, from Rumple. But Aurora still must face a clearly angry Dark One on her own. When her temper flares will she be able to hold back her magic? The next morning Phillip meets with King George and learns some shocking news about his family’s connection to Jefferson.

Chapter 32 – Grace’s meeting with Aurora doesn’t go as she hopes causing Jefferson to have to deal with the aftermath. Phillip learns more about Jefferson from King George, which he shares with Mulan. Victor was hoping to discuss what was going on between him and Ruby, but any chance of getting her alone is forgotten when he learns Doctor Hopper has been murdered.

Chapter 33 - Victor finally gets a chance to talk to Ruby, but Granny isn’t to thrill to find out how close they have gotten since the curse broke. Van Helsing uses the distraction to step up phase two of his and King George’s plan. Most people in town are attending Doctor Hopper’s funeral, so Aurora uses it to her advantage to take Grace’s storybook back to her and Jefferson, even if she is worried about how their conversation will go after how she left things at his manor the last time she was there.

Chapter 34 – Hook once again takes control of Aurora’s Heart to change the course of her conversation with Jefferson. Victor brings Jefferson the bad news that Cora and Hook have made it Storybrooke, and there will be a town meeting that night. A meeting that Rumple request they both attend. George and Van Helsing have put phase one of their plan into action and are waiting to see its effects.

Chapter 35 - Rumple talks Jefferson into coming to the town meeting, but with Phillip and Regina in attendance, he has no idea how much he is going to regret attending. At the hospital, Victor is dealing with an overwhelming number of sick Fairies. He must call in Van Helsing to cover while he leaves for the meeting, little did he know Van Helsing’s is right where he wants to be to document the effects of his virus which only effects Supernatural creatures.

Chapter 36 - Now that Aurora used her magic to help save Jefferson, they must deal with the consequences of everyone knowing they kissed and her magic has returned. Phillip doesn’t handle Aurora’s new-found confidence well. After the town meeting, Robin feels drawn to Regina but their conversation doesn’t go as he plans.

Chapter 37- Victor had promised to look after Aurora so he brings her to the hospital to check on the sick Fairies. What she sees reminds her of how Maleficent killed the Fairies who were guarding her as a child. Will her knowledge of what she did them help Victor find a way to cure Blue and the others? With Victor busy Aurora’s decides to finally take the matter into her own hands but will Rumple be able to stop her from starting down a dark path or not?

Chapter 38- Both Aurora and Jefferson are trying to cope with their current life choices, as Victor tries to move forward with his relationship with Ruby.

Chapter 39 – Aurora joins, Emma, Belle, Ruby, and Ashley for a girl’s night out, while Victor tries to talk some sense into this friend at the Rabbit Hole. But a drunken Jefferson only seems to want to play up his Mad Hatter Stereotype, only allowing it to continue if they use song lyrics. While King George and Van Helsing is getting ready to act on their next set of plans to take care of not only Jefferson and Rumple, but all the magical creatures in Storybrooke.

Chapter 40 – Jefferson and Victor’s now drunken conversation is interrupted by Van Helsing who sets them up for King George to attack and get what he needs to set his revenge in motion. While Aurora continues to try to have a good time on her girl’s night out with Emma, Ashely, and Ruby.

Chapter 41- Everyone is feeling the aftereffects of a night of drinking. Emma and Ruby convince a drunken Aurora to go talk to Jefferson. She appears up at his mansion and the two have a heated but long overdue heart to heart. While Van Helsing slips something in Victor’s tea to learn more about what is going in Storybrooke, to help King George and his plan to put an end to supernatural creatures once and for all.

Chapter 42 – Aurora wakes from a nightmare caused by her time in the Sleeping Curse. Jefferson sees first hand how much the curse has affected her and how much he can relate to her confusion over what is real and what is only in her head. As the conversation plays he starts to wonder if Victor is right, that he and Aurora could have a future together no matter what Rumple or anyone else thinks or believes. The only question is, is he strong enough after everything he has been through to actually go for the happy ending he wants.

Chapter 43 - Hook uses Aurora to confront Rumple at the Townline. Will everyone survive his deadly game.

Chapter 44 – Jefferson confronts Emma about sending a drunk Aurora up to his house and learns Emma’s father isn’t who he thinks he is. Hook continues to press his luck and try to use Aurora to hurt Rumple. Will he be successful this time or will Aurora finally get her control of her life back? Ruby goes to bring Victor to the hospital to help with Belle, while Van Helsing is sneaking around Victor’s Lab looking for his information on Ruby and the Faries.

Chapter 45 – Jefferson surprises Aurora with a date. He learns Rumple will be leaving with Emma and Henry to go find Baelfire, his half brother. Believing Rumple has already left town he breaks into the Pawn Shop to find something for end the aftereffects of Aurora’s Sleeping Curse. His visit does not go as planned. Victor’s memories of his past continue to haunt him as he looks for a way to Scientific bring back Belle’s memories. Robin sees a clearly jealous Regina, who is watching Aurora and Jefferson from afar. After his encounter with her, he wonders how he can make her realize the curse being broken is a blessing for everyone, including her. King George calls Van Helsing ready to make his next move to make sure the Hatter’s life is ruined forever.

#OUAT #Jefferson #Aurora #victor frankenstein #Dr Whale #Ruby Lucas #frankenwolf #madsleep #Outlaw Queen #Regina Mills #MadQueen #SleepingHatter #Robin Hood #King George #Van Helsing #Once Upon A Time #I swear I will finish this story one day.

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

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OUAT Rewatch 4X15 - Poor Unfortunate Souls

I’ve always loved this episode, but I can’t help but wonder what kind of SOUL searching I’ll need to do as I watch this one again! XD

Eh, he got it.

Anyway, review’s under the cut!

Main Takeaways

Past

So, it goes without say, but Poseidon is the best god! He has a tough commanding voice, a method of carrying himself that commands respect, a solid character arc, and MINIONS! What god doesn’t have minions that dress in uniforms and follow his every order without lip?! Additionally, he’s egotistical, placing his need to have Ursula by his side over her desires to sing and awful in that sense that he’ll buy her love rather than earn it. Basically, this guy has the presence of a god. Characters like Nimue and Merlin would have this similar presence, but as for Hades and Zeus, the other actual gods, they really don’t.

I love the story development in this episode. I’ll get into this shortly, but what makes this episode work so well is that Killian is shown to, despite being a ruthless pirate, be someone who does have the capacity for good in his heart. He’s someone who has that potential to care for another person and to be willing to go to great lengths for them.

It’s great how Killian doesn’t go full tilt against Ursula upon getting a possibility for his revenge, but he does still retreat to villainy somewhat. The trip to Glowerhaven is now a trip not fully made out of goodness and selflessness, but also for profit as Killian asks for the squid ink before he transports Ursula away.

But the way he does ultimately go evil is interesting too. It’s not about hurting Ursula, but about hurting Poseidon. And that makes it worse -- the action that harms Ursula wasn’t made to hurt her, but out of spite. Ursula is turned in that instance from a friend into a pawn. And it’s interesting how Ursula takes agency in her own story back from both Poseidon and Killian. She stands up to both men and even takes the former’s triton to become a goddess and a villain. It’s so tragic, but also kind of badass!

Present

Killian’s development in this episode is fantastic! I like how we see the difference between the hero clan and Killian. While their first thought, as David puts it, is to “save August,” Killian’s is to find the Dark One’s secrets. And I like how this isn’t a bad plan in comparison to theirs, but different. It’s an important part of dismantling Rumple’s schemes in the long run. I also like how the episode shows subtly how Killian’s mindframe about doing good changes within the scope of the episode. When he first announces how he’ll return Ursula’s happy ending, it’s done out of a need to get revenge on Rumple after he screwed them out of the dagger. Listen to how he talks about helping her: “Now’s the time to use it [his backstory with Ursula].” He also calls her a “creature” and a “monster,” and even when she stands up to him for the name calling, he doesn’t apologize.

And look at the way Killian talks about returning Ursula’s happy ending. Normally, a line like that is given lighter and more triumphant music to accompany it, but not here. That’s because it’s not about wanting to do right by Ursula, but that is the mindset he has to learn. He’s sort of on the right trail -- he even points out to Emma how he’s taking a page out of her book -- but because his mindset is botched, he’s not in the right mindset for when things go wrong. While Snow, David, or Emma would try to take a next step after the shell doesn’t originally work and assure Ursula that they’ll help her out, Killian doesn’t think of her wants and needs and just demands the information, endangering himself.

Ariel was both a weird choice and the BEST choice to help Killian along his trail to redemption. For one thing, it allows for the real Ariel to finally get some justice after what happened with Killian and Blackbeard and her in season 3. But most importantly, she highlights that getting a happy ending isn’t necessarily dependent on you alignment, but how you go about getting it. And this prompts Killian to ask for help. That asking for help s so important because of how it shifts Killian’s perspective from wanting to help Ursula for himself to wanting to help Ursula for her own good. That’s how a hero thinks. And it turns out that when he starts thinking that way, he’s not bad at doing good at all!

“If Gold did to me what he did to Hook, I’d want to shove that dagger through his heart too.” I kind of hate a lot of this show’s approaches to anger. Killian’s pissed -- and Emma’s pissed for him -- that Rumple took advantage of the growing trust between himself and Belle in order to reclaim his power, and now the entire town is in danger because of it. This line is treated as a way to foreshadow the possibility of Emma going dark, but honestly, it’s just anger. It’s a valid emotion and in from here until the end of the series, that anger tends to be framed as something that’s not allowed to happen, and the show is worse off for it. Is the agner a touch excessive? Arguably, but given how personal this crime was, I can get that it reached that extent. And Emma even elaborates on that point immediately afterwards.

All Encompassing

Out of all of the episodes where Killian screws things up in the past, but rights things in the present, this I feel is one of the best ones. Killian’s not heartless in either segment, his actions aren’t too bad that they can’t be made right by the events of the episode, and Killian’s approach has to change in regards to his own morality and motivations, which it does.

So, let’s talk about Ursula. On one hand, we never get to see or even hear about any of her villainy and that undermines a lot of her presence in the series. Despite all of the power that she supposedly has, it’s never used to any villainous effect. Because of that, to some extent, she’s less of a villain in a lot of way and more of a vessel for Killian and Rumple. And that’s not really fair. That said, I do think that her character development in this singular episode is quite substantial and in a way, redeems Ursula’s character. She’s given a clear and concise motivation for her villainy as well as a redemption that makes emotional sense. She’s tragic and unique in a lot of ways and her characteristics in both the past and present, despite that lack of villainy, make for a three dimensional character.

Stream of Consciousness

-I love the callback in the opening to both the source of Killian’s apprehension over mermaids from “The Heart of the Truest Believer” and to “The Little Mermaid.”

-I like the design for Ursula’s grotto. Sure, it’s probably like the show’s final Rumbelle scene where it was designed in a minimalist way by painting the set all black, but just as it was there, it’s pretty!

-I like the allusion as Ursula listens to classical music instead of torturing August and only begrudgingly joins Cruella at Cruella’s behest that Ursula is not all that interested in being a baddie.

-I love the clear BS’ing yet improvising skills that August puts on display here!

-”Well it wouldn’t be the first time he lied to my face.” Regina, get Elsa back here because Rumple gave August a BURN! XD

-I do appreciate that Emma points out how fucked up it was to steal a child! It’s not as far as this conflict should have gone, but it’s a good step.

-Between the magical eye drops, giving David half of her heart, Cora’s possession, all the breastfeeding she must be doing, and now this, Snow must be SO tired of sharing her body! XD

-I also appreciate how Regina’s first bit of dialogue was to tell Emma that Pinocchio was fine and what happened.

-”Who? Me?” This is some perfect comedy right here! I love the slow buildup and the way every character’s head is given its own individual moment to turn to Killian. It is a perfect punchline!

-”Even when I didn’t think he could deceive me any more, he found a way.” I feel so bad for Belle with this line. She’s so tired of being tricked by Rumple and now even trusting in those that she wants to is dangerous.

-”Then your name would’ve been written across it.” …”When you can see the future, there’s irony everywhere.”

-I LOVE this rendition of “Mysterious Fathoms Below.” It’s so soothing and beautiful. It feels both like a lullabye and what a group of sailors would want to hear after a long day, and that’s an interesting balance to hit.

-I love the costumes of Poseidon and his underlings. I like the beach-y things the cover the tops of their gold and their hats that look like conch shells!

-”It’s unwise to insult the size of a pirate’s ship.” Wouldn’t be OUAT without the occasional dick measuring contest.

-I actually totally forgot about that dream sequence Regina had. So, now that I remember again AND have the context of the Evil Queen arc, I think that arc either alluded to a fear of Regina’s evil impulses threatening to separate her from Robin or foreshadowing of jealousy from the Evil Queen and that’s Wish Robin that’s there.

-I love the absolute look of HORROR on August’s face as he’s turned back into a puppet.

-I’m starting to realize that anyone with a “code” in this series has a code that is weak as fuck!

-Thankfully, that nice swim will be UNDERcut by some FIN-terference, so he’ll SEA you later! XD

-Snow hitting Cruella over the head with a frying pan from back of the room was perfect! Not only is it so funny, but it was a great reminder of just how tactical Snow can be!

-Awww! That August and Emma reunion was soooo sweet! We really see that friendship they had come fully back and it’s honestly so heartwarming.

-I loved Poseidon’s apology to Ursula. There are no excuses and he really gets into how badly he screwed both her and himself over, and not in an egotistical way.

Favorite Dynamic

Ursula and Killian. I like the framing of their dynamic. Killian is very much a ruthless pirate and Ursula is clearly defined as someone who can break through that thanks to the peace her voice brings him. It’s an unconventional, but organic friendship. And I like how it’s not just Ursula providing Killian with things, but also Killian providing Ursula with emotional validation. Ursula doesn’t seem to have many friends (which makes sense given how she’s the daughter of a god), and that’s implied by just how much Killian’s words and promises impact her. You can see how badly she’s needed to hear that her way of honoring her mother hasn’t been wrong and that despite what Poseidon says, she’s doing the right thing. And in return, Ursula gives Killian peace and a chance at some level of redemption. Because of her voice and mercy, he’s able to see some good inside himself and offer her help. And until his revenge gets in the way, and he starts treating Ursula like a pawn, he holds himself to that.

Writer

Andrew Chambliss and Dana Horgan are in control today! And they did a good job! This is just a cohesive episode. Unlike “The Apprentice,” these guys knew exactly what they wanted to do with Killian’s character and did exactly that. They made his character consistent and kept his feelings throughout the episode clear. This is an enormous change from the Killian who didn’t even have a distinguished facial reaction to being forced to hold an old man hostage while he was sucked into a hat. And they still managed to put in nuanced discussions about what it means to think like and be a hero. Writing decisions like that make the kind of material that define a character and these guys brought their A-game to both segments.

Rating

Golden Apple. While I had my nitpicks, this was an amazing episode. Killian’s character development as he descends to and rises from villainy is really well done, the episode’s supporting characters are great, and Ursula is for the most part very three dimensional.

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Captain Swan - “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.” I love these guys. I love how they value each other. I love how in this episode, Killian calls Emma his happy ending and the slow, meaningful reaction to that including the kiss. I love how Emma stands up to David when he even considers that Killian could be evil again. She really believes in him and trusts that he can do the right thing and get them the information they need.

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Thank you all for reading!!! Shout out to @watchingfairytales and @daensarah!!

Season 4 Total (131/230)

Writer Scores: Adam and Eddy: (34/60) Jane Espenson: (20/40) David Goodman and Jerome Schwartz: (38/50) Andrew Chambliss: (32/50) Dana Horgan: (16/30) Kalinda Vazquez: (22/40) Scott Nimerfro: (14/30) Tze Chun (8/20)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 4x15 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat

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treatian · 1 year

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time

Chapter 39: Working the Accusation

"Let's keep walking," he urged, pressing against her back even as he struggled to tear his gaze from it. If it was Zelena's time portal, and he was having a difficult time convincing himself it wasn't, then he didn't want Belle out here while it was open. And how to close it…

"But I don't understand," she complained as he moved her around Emma and Hook to get her inside the diner. "What is it?"

"What is that?" Henry echoed the second he got her safe into the diner. So, it wasn't just him who had noticed. Given this town, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"That…is a problem," he answered as David crept closer to get a look of his own. "That light is from Zelena's time portal…it's open."

"How is that possible?" Belle asked, looking at him as if he had the answers when he couldn't even begin to fathom…

He glanced out the window, looking at it again, trying to find an alternative to prove him wrong, that it wasn't the portal. But somehow, he knew it was. The direction it was located, the power it generated, the color of it, and the lack of familiarity he had with it…it was the Time Portal.

The portal had been working. He was loathed to admit that, but it had been working when Zelena had everything she needed to open it. But one of those things she needed was the Charming's child, a child of True Love. And he could see the babe in his mother's arms here! So either someone who knew about Zelena's plan, knew that she'd failed, also had powerful magic and access to a child of True Love, had decided to pick up where Zelena left off or…or…

He couldn't think of an alternative. But he knew the chances of that theory panning out were so small it didn't even bear a second thought. Which meant that in answer to Belle's question…

"I have no idea," he breathed uneasily. It was an honest answer. And he hated it.

"Well…" David sighed suddenly, moving around them to grab his jacket off the hook. "I know exactly who I'm going to ask about it. You left Zelena in the jail?" he questioned, glancing at Regina.

"Yes, but-"

David was out the door before she could finish her sentence, and awareness shot through him as Mary Margaret called after her husband and Regina flew out of her seat.

"I've got him. Henry, stay here!" she ordered as she and Robin Hood followed the prince out the door. The jail. They were going to the jail. To ask Zelena about the Time Portal. Which meant they hadn't yet gone there today, and when they arrived, they'd find-

"We should go too," Belle urged, moving toward them.

He only just barely managed to grab her hand and stop her before she could leave. No, he wasn't sure that was the greatest idea given the circumstances. But Belle…

"We can talk outside," she urged, misinterpreting his silence and pulling him out the door before he could stop her. "We should go," she insisted again once they were outside.

"Let them handle it," he countered, digging his heels in and stopping her.

Belle turned to face him. She glanced at the others already piling into a car to go to the jail and then at him again before dragging him forward once more. She was guiding him in the direction of their car.

"Rumple…between all the research I did and everything you know about Zelena's plan, they might need us to put this together, to figure out why this happened…you don't have to go, I won't make you, but I am going to help them. Please, come with me," she begged. "No one knows more about this than you! I'll be with you the entire time, I promise I won't leave your side."

His choice…she wouldn't leave his side because…because she thought that what was holding him back was the possibility of facing Zelena again. And he'd love to use that to his advantage. Every fiber of his being was screaming that this was where his plan would fall apart, and he needed to run and be far away from the scene of the crime.

But given Belle's determination to be there and given the nature of the people she'd be with…if she was going to go play hero with wild, untested magic, he sure as hell wasn't going to let her do it alone. He'd planned for this, known that eventually Zelena would be discovered missing and he'd be the first suspect. Sometimes it was better to face those accusations head-on and get them over with than run from them. And after what he'd endured, if he could use his discomfort to his advantage, then he may as well.

Besides, it was "wild and untested magic," and he was curious as hell to figure out what he could so they could close that damn portal before someone got hurt, died…or worse.

Against his instinct, he unlocked the door to the car to let Belle in and drove them to the prison. They stayed quiet on the short ride there, and he knew he was dragging his feet like a man headed to his own execution when they arrived just behind the others, but they filed into the jail one after the other only to catch David exclaim "Zelena…she's gone!"

He felt Belle tense beside him as they moved into the room he'd come to in secret last night, and they were met with exactly what he'd expected. An empty jail cell where the Wicked Witch of the West had once been.

"No!" Regina balked. "She was here when I left her!"

"Well, if-if she escaped, that would explain the time portal," Belle theorized with a shake in her voice.

"Impossible," Regina snapped. "Without her pendent she's powerless! How could she have escaped, let alone open a time portal without magic!"

Not to mention a missing ingredient, which was what he was truly interested in.

"Unless you did something to her!"

At the suggestion of an accusation, he tuned himself into the conversation at hand to find Regina's eyes on him. She suspected him, just as he'd thought they would. But he'd planned for this and managed to keep every muscle in his body, right down to his heart, in his control and awareness as he navigated these waters quickly enough to get to the bottom of the real problem at hand, which was currently an open door to an unknown past!

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but no," he answered. Yet every single eye, including those of Belle, lingered accusingly on him. He didn't blame her for that, given their history. And, frankly, seeing as how he actually had killed Zelena and was about to use Belle as his alibi, he couldn't say her suspicion was wrong or unwarranted either. "Well, even if I wanted to, Belle has my dagger! She would certainly curb any homicidal tendencies."

A brief flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she realized the merit of what he was saying. "It's true," she exclaimed to the others.

"Well, if she escaped, let's find out how…" David muttered, looking at a television screen he'd barely taken note of…until now.

Security cameras. His gaze was suddenly drawn to one pointed directly at the jail cell, and suddenly he was beginning to think that perhaps the fates had wanted him to kill Zelena and get away with it just as much as he did. Perhaps that was part of their plan after helping Orpheus. But whatever the reason, he was suddenly glad Belle had convinced him to come, if only for this purpose. He'd slipped up. But it wasn't too late to fix it.

"Wonderful…" he muttered as they all gathered closer to the screen. Belle glanced back at him when he didn't move closer. He did his best to ignore the questions in her gaze, to not hold them against her especially considering what he was guilty of. He just wanted to put this all to rest so they could fix their present and leave the past behind, literally.

She looked back just as Zelena came onto the black-and-white screen, pacing like a tiger in a cage. The sight of it nearly made him ecstatic until he realized that if they went much further…

He'd never manipulated technology before, not like this, but he willed it now, sent his magic into that video screen, replacing what had happened with a new image in his head.

"What was that?" Regina questioned. "What just happened?"

A miracle. He'd never thought he'd be more grateful for the fact that Regina's ability to sense his magic was drastically less impressive than her sister's, but he was now. Because when the video on the screen began to warp with his magic, she bought David's excuse of needing an upgrade hook, line, and sinker.

As soon as this was over, he would be happy to personally pay for that upgrade.

"Oh, here we go!" David stated suddenly. The picture cleared as he withdrew his magic. And it showed them exactly what he wanted them to see. Zelena pressed up against the wall, right where she'd been when she died but this time, utterly alone. They watched as she raised her hand and transformed herself into that same statue of porcelain she'd transformed into the night before, then splintered, fractured, and crumbled into a pile of dust…just as she had last night.

The best way to lie was always to stick closest to the truth. They'd seen close to exactly what had happened, just without him as the catalyst for it.

"Well, it seems her great escape was of a more permanent nature," he suggested with just the right amount of irritation in his voice. "I won't ask for an apology."

"She must have had just enough residual magic to do herself in," Regina suggested, as if "residual magic" was a thing that happened when people had their powers stripped. He wasn't going to correct her. "And when she did…when she was gone, the magic in her pendant had no tether, it was set free! Her last wish fulfilled."

He scoffed. That theory was…actually, it wasn't the worst thing that he could come up with. Not at all, now that he thought of it. If she truly was tied to that necklace as he theorized, then it would have needed her every bit as she needed it. Without her, all that power would be set free in the world. But if that magic was as devoted and driven to fulfilling her spell as she was…yes, that might have had the power to open the portal. But the fourth ingredient…the child had been taken away. It didn't make sense.

"How do we unfulfill it?" Robin asked, getting to the important part of the theory…the practical. He supposed he knew what he and Belle would be doing tonight.

"Excellent question, but until we figure it out, no one should go near it," he commented. "A trip to the past could have catastrophic repercussions."

David shook his head and reached into his pocket. "And Emma and Hook wandered off alone. I'll call her and Mary Margaret, see if anyone has seen them. Maybe we can set up a barrier around it of some kind."

"What part of 'no one should go near it' was unclear?" he demanded, shocked at the suggestion. He had said, "don't go near it," and David's bright idea was to put people near it? On purpose?! "Portals, like the kind that took us to Neverland, are designed to draw people in. This particular portal has never been achieved, documented, or studied before. The strength of its pull is unknown. Warn the town and warn your daughter, but until then, no one goes near it!"

"And how do you propose we keep people away from it if we can't guard it?!" David argued. "That thing in the sky is only going to attract attention. You know the people in this town, Zelena declared war on Regina promising death and destruction, and people showed up to watch like it was a Saturday night at the movie theater!"

"We use word of mouth," Belle insisted, stepping between him and David before he could say something insulting. "It doesn't take long in this town for news to spread, we'll just start telling everyone now, and by tomorrow afternoon, no one will go near it if we tell them there is a protection spell around it."

The room was quiet. He didn't entirely trust a plan like that, but since he had no idea how else to handle it-

"It's not a bad idea," Regina conceded as if she doubted its ability too. "Tell everyone it's protected by something with a little kick in it, and it might work; quickly, if we go back and tell the seven loud mouths-"

"So, it's back to the diner then?" David questioned with anger in his voice as if it wasn't a good enough suggestion. The truth was that it wasn't. It wasn't a good enough suggestion. But in the absence of any other ideas…

He let out a frustrated sigh, then admitted, "At the moment, telling people to stay away is really all we can do."

#rumbelle #rumpelstiltskin #rumple #dark one #mr. gold #belle #the evil queen #regina mills #David Nolan #prince charming #robin hood #ouat #fanfic #ouat fanfiction

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

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Dreaming Out Loud

Also on fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 101: And Wake Up Where the Clouds Are Far Behind Me

The years passed quickly, as Rumpelstiltskin secretly trained Regina in the ways of dark magic. It had been very difficult for her at first, but her overwhelming rage at her mother and sister had changed her and facilitated the needed changes in her to mold her into the woman he needed to cast his curse.

Over the years, Arawn had assimilated many Kingdoms under his rule. George and Midas were allowed to remain on their Thrones as mere figureheads under Arawn's complete control. King Hubert and his Queen had been too resistant and were executed, while Hubert's most trusted Knights saw to it that Phillip was sent east into hiding.

King Stefan had folded to Arawn as well, allowing him to keep his Throne, much to his daughter, Princess Aurora's chagrin. Knowing that the late Queen Briar Rose would be horrified, the fairies that had been her allies eventually whisked Aurora away into hiding.

King Stefan tried to appeal to the other King's thirst for power by telling him that they should invade Maleficent's castle next and kill the dragon woman. But Arawn refused. He was known for avoiding magic that he wasn't completely sure he could overpower her and thus Maleficent's castle was left untouched for the moment, as was the Dark One's castle for obvious reasons.

Next, Arawn had moved south to a small Kingdom ruled by Lord Maurice. Arawn was well aware of the deal the man previously made with the Dark One, who ended the threat of the ogres in exchange for the man's beautiful daughter, Belle. But all that had done was pave the way for Arawn to easily assimilate Maurice's Kingdom next without any ogres in his path.

After that, Arawn seized the maritime Kingdom, forcing Prince Eric to flee to the east to avoid execution. The Prince's ailing father had just passed away months ago, but there would be no coronation for Prince Eric.

Regina's Kingdom was one of the only ones left standing on its own, save for the mysterious Arendelle. And magic was definitely the reason for that. Neither Frollo or Arawn were completely sure they could combat the magic of Queen Cora and her daughter Zelena. But Arawn was not giving up. He was a patient man and if he could not overtake Leopold's Kingdom, then he planned to appeal to his and his Queen's greed by proposing a merger when the time was right.

As for Arendelle, Princess Elsa had finally come of age and her coronation was underway. He had sent Hans into get a scope of the Kingdom and hoped to hear good news from his youngest brother soon.

Snow White still eluded them, but there had been sightings over the years. He suspected though that Hades and Persephone had kept her sequestered in the Underworld most of the time. Eli was in hiding as well and there were rumors that he was living somewhere near the city of Athens, well known to be protected by Athena, though there had supposedly been sightings of him in Thebes as well. But that did not bother him too much. He was still confident that he could capture the wayward Princess and use her to his advantage. His Kingdom would continue to grow and soon, he knew he would rival the power of the Gods. Especially if Frollo's research and experimentation yielded the results he soon hoped for.

Arawn entered the top spire of the castle that was formerly George's and spied his Vizier at the infamous Cauldron that had come into Arawn's possession many years ago. While the Cauldron's past was lousy with black magic, these days, Frollo used it for his scientific experiments and dabbles into alchemy.

For years, Frollo has been attempting to change ordinary metals into valuable ones like gold. But more importantly, he was on a lifelong quest to use science and the cauldron to create an elixir of immortality. Arawn shared in his quest for immortality, but he had employed Frollo to explore another avenue on his path to immortality for him.

In the ancient scrolls from his homeland, the texts spoke of a creature and a mountain that could give him what he wanted. If the creature deemed him worthy, he could essentially take on the powers of this supposedly dormant creature that was known in the texts by a few names and one of those being the black god. This creature was said to be far more powerful than any God on Olympus and even mightier than any of the Titans. But the location of this mysterious, supposedly cone shaped bald mountain was unknown. However, through his assimilation of Kingdoms, he had finally found a clue in one of the oldest libraries in Lord Maurice's Kingdom. It was in a dead language that no one he knew of could read, but fortunately, Frollo was attempting to use the Cauldron and science to translate the map they had found.

"Any luck?" Arawn questioned.

"Not yet...but I may be onto something," Frollo responded, as the cauldron boiled with a sickly green liquid. Frollo added a drop of some unknown ingredient, making the room smell even fouler than it already did. Frollo carefully filled a vial with the liquid and poured one drop on the encrypted map. It gave off a faint glow, as the sorcery rippled over it.

"Did it work?" Arawn asked.

"It did not decipher the map...however it has left us another clue. One that could make translating the map irrelevant," Frollo said, as the sorcery on the parchment took life in front of their eyes in the form a dancing broom, which then morphed into a hat with stars on it.

"What is it?" Arawn questioned.

"I've seen this only once...in the ancient pagan texts back in the Cathedral. It is the magical hat worn by the mysterious Sorcerer. The legend says that no one knows the identity of this great Sorcerer and the hat is in the possession of his apprentice," Frollo recalled.

"What does this mean?" Arawn pressed, as he watched the image of the hat fold into a dormant form in that of a circular box with stars atop it. Then the transparent image fell to the map and to a mountainous region in the northeast that was known to be quite barren and scarcely populated.

"It means we can find the hat in this region and then it is the hat that will decode this map, leading us to Bald Mountain," Frollo responded.

"Then you will take a few of our men and find this hat by any means necessary," Arawn ordered. Frollo bowed to him.

"At once, My King," he obeyed.

~*~

David wiped the sweat from his brow, as they paused for a beat in their practice duel. His family and Snow's family were all enjoying a brief respite at Persephone's summer cabin in her meadow near the ocean. Over the years, Persephone had added two more cabins in the meadow, one for his family and one just for him and Snow.

There was a brief lull in the war recently and they had taken full advantage of the opportunity for a visit. They were a bit worried about what Arawn's attention might be on, because of the lull, but they did not let it mar their time together.

During the warring years, Eli had taken the opportunity to sharpen David's swordsman skills and Hades usually joined the teachings when he was able to. The Underworld had been sadly a very busy place in the last few years, but thankfully, he was enjoying a lull too. They had long ago taken well to their future son-in-law, for he made their little Snow very happy and had decided one of the few things they could agree on was they wanted him to be exceptional in his skills so he could protect their little girl. David had welcomed the training, wanting to be able to protect her against anyone as well.

"You're getting very good…" Eli mentioned, as the younger man parried his strikes.

"If it means protecting Snow...then I want to become a master swordsman," David replied, as they continued the duel. Eli smirked, as he heard Snow huff from the sidelines.

"Daddy...don't you think that's enough for today?" she asked impatiently. Patience would never be his little girl's forte.

"I suppose so...he is here, after all, to see you, sweet pea," he answered, as they ended the duel. Snow smiled and put her arms around her beloved, kissing him passionately.

"I'm all sweaty," he warned, as she pressed herself flush against him.

"I don't mind," she replied, with a coy smile. Persephone handed her daughter a picnic basket with a smile, as the young couple joined hands and began to stroll toward Stardust.

"Have fun!" Ruth called, with a smile, as they rode off.

"Don't you want me to clean up first?" David asked. Snow smirked.

"Oh, I think I can clean you up myself in the ocean," she replied. He grinned.

"That sounds like fun," he agreed, as they rode off for a romantic rendezvous.

"Don't pout," Persephone scolded her ex.

"I'm not pouting...she's just all grown up and needs me less and less," Eli lamented.

"She still needs you...she needs us all. They both do," Hades reminded. He nodded.

"David is a good man. I couldn't have hoped for better for her," he agreed.

"That's what happens when Athena etches your love in the stars. Their love will save us all," Persephone said, though she knew that meant that her daughter and her love would face insurmountable odds and stare down evil to do so. But she was confident that love would prevail.

~*~

Zelena cackled, as she used her spell to create a storm that she unleashed upon an unsuspecting village.

"You're getting very good, dear," Cora complimented and the devastation seemed to have no affect on them.

"This is just the beginning, Mother. When I cast the Dark One's curse, they all shall be under my thumb, even the powerful King Arawn. He'll be nothing compared to me," the redhead boasted.

"Yes...the time draws near, doesn't it Rumple?" Cora questioned.

"It's too early for the curse. I'm not ready yet," he replied. But this angered Zelena.

"Well, I am!" she shouted.

"I am tired of this land and King Arawn's rule! I should rule, mother! But you won't allow me to unseat him!" she shouted.

"His Vizier, Frollo, is much too unpredictable, my dear. If he was able to nullify Midas' power, than he may have a way to counter ours. It's too risky right now," Cora admonished.

"Which is why we need the curse! What exactly are you waiting for?" Zelena questioned her Master.

"That's my business," Rumple hissed in return.

"Why is it always about what you want?! What about what I want?!" Zelena argued, as Rumple looked at her.

"Careful dearie...you may think you're in charge here, but you'd be mistaken. I may be providing you with the means to cast a great curse and rule over all the lands. But make no mistake...I'm in charge," he warned.

"Well, I don't accept that. I'm more than confident that the student has surpassed the master," Zelena hissed. Rumple let out a giggle of amusement.

"Oh you'd be wrong there, dearie," he boasted, as he disappeared and appeared behind her, much to her surprise. Zelena growled and turned to him, effectively blasting him with her green magic.

"Why won't you give me what I want?! I've done everything you've asked!" she cried psychotically.

"Zelena…" Cora chided, but the out of control redhead batted her mother away, much to Cora's surprise.

"I'm more powerful than you both! And I'm going to cast this curse now!" she demanded.

"Go ahead and try...but you'll fail," Rumple responded in a sing-song voice.

"Rumple...what are you talking about?" Cora questioned.

"I've decided to alter our deal," he confessed.

"What?" Cora questioned.

"You've done a very exceptional job in raising a daughter that loves nothing, which is the opposite of what I need," he responded.

"Love is weakness," Cora proclaimed. He giggled at her.

"Wrong again, dearie...it's actually quite powerful and extremely useful when you know how to use it. She can never successfully cast my curse. Read the last ingredient," he prodded, as Cora looked at the tiny scroll.

"The heart of thing you love most…" she recited and then looked up at him, as realization dawned on her. He giggled.

"I see you've finally gotten it. You raised the perfect, heartless monster...in your image no less. You must be so proud," he said distastefully.

"The problem is that I need a monster that still has a heart and fortunately for me...you actually didn't fail to give me one," he responded dramatically.

"What are you talking about?" Zelena demanded to know. He giggled again.

"Your mother created you in her image. Heartless, full of hatred, and you wouldn't know love if it smacked you in your green face," he poked fun, which only enraged her more.

"You're wrong...I love power! It's the only thing that matters!" she refuted.

"According to your short sighted mother...yes, but love is what makes the world go round, dearie. And true love...well, that is the rarest of all magic, but that's a story you don't need to know about," he added.

"However, your mother and you have created another monster as well; one that you don't even realize," he said cryptically, as Regina emerged from the shadows.

"Regina?" Cora asked in shock.

"Hello Mother...Zelena," she greeted with a smirk and then showed her power by lighting a tree on fire.

"You...you've learned magic," Cora uttered in surprise and slight dread in her voice.

"Well...when you took Daniel away from me, I knew I couldn't let you get away with it," Regina responded.

"Darling...I did that for your own good. I was looking out for your best interest," Cora claimed.

"You were looking out for yours!" Regina snapped.

"After all, you couldn't have one of your daughters marrying someone without royal blood. So when he offered me a path to revenge for what you both did to me...I took it," she added.

"You see...she's the monster you created, but she's far more dangerous than this one, because she still has a heart. She knows love, while this one only knows envy," he said, with disgust, as Zelena's skin slowly turned completely green.

"Regina will cast my curse...and she will do it when I say," he stated.

"No!" Zelena cried.

"This was to be mine! I am supposed to rule and have everything! But you're giving it to her?!" Zelena cried in outrage.

"That's right," he said nonchalantly. Zelena growled and unleashed her green magic on her sister, but Regina was ready with an immobilization spell. She knew if she let Zelena get the upper hand that she might be evenly matched or even overpowered by her more experienced sister.

"Yes...I will be Queen and cast this curse, but you don't get to come. I'm going to cast you out for what you did! You destroyed my future with him and you did it on purpose!" she snarled, as she summoned another spell, while Rumple watched on with a pleased expression and Cora in one of awe. Zelena cried out in horror, as a twister came down out of the sky and snatched her up.

"Enjoy oblivion...witch!" Regina cackled with glee, as the twister carried her sister away to another realm.

"Regina...what have you done?" Cora cried.

"Aren't you happy, mother? I've become evil...just like you always wanted," Regina responded, as she approached the older woman.

"My revenge against you will be very sweet for what you did to Daniel. Now run home to your disgusting, degenerate husband and count your numbered days, because I'll be coming for you both," she warned. Cora looked at her former master, her eyes flashing with betrayal and she saw the smug look on his face. He was enjoying his own revenge against her. With no other choice, Cora disappeared in a puff of magenta smoke.

"That was fun," Regina commented.

"Yes...and there is more to come. The time for my curse will soon draw near. But there are still a few things I need that must happen," he replied. She shrugged.

"I'm in no hurry...it gives me more time to craft the perfect punishment for my mother. But tell me...does everyone else have to be miserable in this curse?" she questioned. He smirked.

"It's whatever you want it to be. But they all must fear it, so you need to sell it as their certain doom or they won't take it seriously," he responded.

"Easily done...as long as my mother and Zelena pay, that's all I care about," she replied. He giggled with glee. Things were going very well for him now.

~*~

Prince James dueled an onslaught of Arwan's best soldiers in an exhibition for the mighty King. George had insisted he showcase his talents when Arawn announced to the Kingdom that they were having a problem with a truly monstrous beast that threatened to destroy his entire army. The beast guarded an important mountain pass that was crucial to have control of in the next phase of the war. So Arawn had called for only the best to lead an onslaught on this dragon beast and slay it for him. James hated the idea of doing anything for Arawn and even mouthed off to his father about how he should make his stupid Sorcerer Vizier find a solution or the God Deimos, but that had gotten him a smack to the back of his head. Despite being grown now, his father never missed an opportunity to inflict abuse as his means of correcting him.

"Impressive…" Arawn stated, as James defeated all the soldiers quite swiftly.

"Yes...James is the best swordsman in all the Kingdoms," George boasted.

"Then he will lead a battalion of men and slay the beast that blocks our passage through the mountains," Arawn announced. James pushed down the urge to flee at that. The mission that Arawn was sending him on was certain suicide, but he didn't see anyway out.

~*~

Snow mewled into his kiss and panted in impassioned gasps, as he made love to her in the sand. The tide was coming in and washing over them. He kissed at her neck, desperately, as they chased the height of pleasure that was building between them.

"David…David…" she sung wantonly, as he pumped hot and deeply, their hips colliding with a euphoric feeling.

"Snow…" he rasped, as his lips worshiped her body. Snow raked her nails along his back, as she neared her climax, bringing him pleasured agony. They finally reached completion together, nearly simultaneously in an incredible wave of ecstasy, before they collapsed together, limbs tangled and water beading on their bare bodies.

As their skin quickly began to cool in the ocean water, they wrapped themselves together in the very large blanket they had brought with them and rested together against a rock, while they watched the sunset together. They kissed tenderly and cuddled, enjoying an afterglow that was just as euphoric as their lovemaking had been.

"I love you so much, my darling…" he whispered. She smiled at him, her emerald eyes sparkling with love.

"I love you too, my Charming," she replied, as she nuzzled her nose to his.

"Let's not wait any longer," he whispered to her.

"Any longer for what?" she asked.

"To get married," he responded, as she looked at him in surprise.

"But...the war isn't over yet," she reminded.

"And it may not be for years, Snow...I want to marry you now. Not then or whenever this war is done. I'm tired of that heartless King being the reason that you're not already my wife," he said. She smiled gently and he knew she felt the same.

"But we still might have to be separated sometimes," she reminded.

"I know...and as much as I hate it, at least I know you're safe from those lunatics in the Underworld and I will cherish every moment we're together and think of you every moment that we're not. I just want to be your husband while I do," he confessed passionately. A tear slipped down her cheek and she sniffed.

"I want that too...more than anything," she agreed, as their lips met again in a smoldering kiss. He smiled brightly back at her.

"Let's go tell our parents," he suggested, but she smirked at him slyly and tackled him to the sand again.

"Later…" she whispered, as passion overtook them again.

~*~

Rumple returned to his castle that evening and noticed with mild interest that his new maid was carrying out the duties of which he had ordered of her. The first few weeks with her had been tedious at best with a lot of crying, but she had eventually settled into a routine. As expected when he returned, she had the tea readied and poured it for him. Curiously, the cup she had chipped days ago was still there as neither of them could seem to toss the silly thing.

"How...how was your lesson?" Belle asked curiously.

"What do you know of my lessons?" he questioned.

"You always take spell books with you on this day and since you don't seem like the type that still needs a book to do magic, I deduced that you have a student," she replied, as he stared at her with scrutiny.

"Very observant," he finally said after an unnerving pause.

"And this one was more productive than usual," he commented, as he enjoyed his tea and that somehow brought a smile to her face. Which was curious, for she knew whatever he was teaching his student probably wasn't good. But the fact that he was pleased brought her a sense of comfort for him.

There had been a lot of development today. Now that his curse was securely in Regina's hands and Zelena was effectively no longer a problem. That meant that once the Savior was conceived, his plan would be accelerated. And there was still one thing he needed, he reminded himself, as he went to his potions cupboard. He had something in every slot, except for the one with the heart.

"What potion goes there?" Belle asked curiously.

"If you must know...it's true love. It's the only magic I haven't bottled," he replied.

"How can you bottle true love?" she asked.

"There is only one true love worth bottling and I've been waiting three hundred years for it to finally come to be. The time is finally at hand...but that's none of your business," he snapped. The time was finally drawing near. He would bottle the true love shared between Princess Snow White and her charming shepherd, the Savior would soon be conceived, and then his curse would be cast. Then he would find his son at last…

~*~

The next morning, all of them, except Snow and David were up early as usual, preparing for a family breakfast. Their children had come home very late and so they were letting them sleep in.

They were surprised though that morning to get a visit from Apollo. Ruth, Sera, Robert, and Eli hung back, as Persephone and Hades greeted him. The last time he had come directly to them was a few years ago after he had tried to show Arawn and Frollo the proof that Snow as framed for Ravenna's murder. And they both knew him coming to them personally could only mean bad things.

"Do you have news of the war?" Hades questioned.

"Yes...Arawn is attempting to move east with his conquest. A great and fearsome dragon blocks his path through the north eastern mountain ridge. He's already lost an entire battalion to this creature, but presses on to find someone to slay it," Apollo reported.

"If he invades the eastern Kingdom and manages to somehow overthrow their Emperor...his army's numbers will quadruple," Persephone feared.

"I believe that is his goal," Apollo confirmed.

"That's a huge undertaking, even for him. The Emperor's army is nearly five times as large as Arawn's, even with all the armies he has assimilated. There's no way they could overtake them, not without some serious advantages," Hades argued.

"Word has it that they are forcing peasants to work assembly lines and mass producing that weapon that Frollo created," Apollo replied.

"You mean the one that David was hit with?" Snow chimed in, as she and David came out of their cabin, hand in hand.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, dear niece," he confirmed.

"But I fear that is not the most disturbing news I have," he continued.

"Of course not," Hades muttered bitterly. He had a feeling his lull would be ending soon and he was going to be very busy once again.

"Frollo has found a map. He can't read it yet, but it the map to Bald Mountain," Apollo revealed, as he met Hades' eyes.

"That's not possible...I destroyed every map to that place," the God of the Underworld growled.

"There is a very old library in Lord Maurice's Kingdom that still had one...in a dead language, but Frollo has used his sorcery to give him a clue. He's traveling east as well in search of the hat," Apollo revealed.

"He cannot get that hat…" Hades growled.

"What hat?" David asked in confusion.

"The Sorcerer's hat...it's very powerful and will lead Frollo to an evil, demonic creature. He has a name I'd rather not speak, but we also used to refer to him as the black god," Persephone explained.

"The Black God?" Snow asked.

"Yes...a Titan that was so evil that your mother and I sealed it away in a volcanic mountain after the Sorcerer, who was supposed to guard the hat, got himself sealed away in a freaking tree," Hades said in frustration. She nodded.

"Originally, this demon was sealed away in the hat itself, but once the sorcerer was trapped, it was freed. It took all of us, including Zeus to seal it away in an enchanted volcanic mountain," Persephone explained.

"If Frollo gets the hat and finds the mountain, he can not only use the hat to release the creature, he and Arawn can control it too," Hades added.

"Then we have to stop Frollo," Snow stated.

"She's right," David agreed.

"You two aren't going anywhere close to this," Hades refuted.

"Yeah...no way in hell," Eli added.

"And not that you need it, but that goes triple from us," Robert agreed, causing the young couple to collectively roll their eyes.

"He's right...but we will be going to stop him," Persephone said. Apollo nodded.

"If they release the black god...then Arawn and Frollo will become unstoppable," he warned.

"Are you leaving right away?" Snow asked, as she and David exchanged a glance.

"We cannot delay much, snowdrop...but we do have the advantage of being able to magic ourselves ahead of Frollo," she said.

"Good...because before you go…" Snow said, as she addressed all of them and then looked at David.

"We want to get married," David finished her sentence, as they gazed at each other with love and eagerness. And no one present could help but smile, including Apollo.

"And I shall be glad to officiate such a destined union," he agreed, as preparations ensued.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #AU #HadesxPersephone #rumbelle #Swanfire #Greek Mythology meets fairy tales #romance #adventure #family #dreaming out loud

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swanqueeneverafter · 6 years

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After The Sunset, Pt.32

The Land Without Magic. Paris. (In the hotel room, the group fill Regina and Emma in on what's happened in their absence.) Regina: (Icily, to Alice:) "So you're telling me that you tricked my son into one of your rabbit holes?" Robin: (Standing between them:) "Aunt Regina, it wasn't like that. Alice was under the Jabberwocky's influence." Regina: (Sighs:) "And wherever you led him to, Rumplestiltskin was supposedly waiting for Henry?" Alice: "That's what I believed was happening, that Rumplestiltskin had something fun planned for his grandson." Rumplestiltskin: (Feeling Regina's eyes on him:) "Obviously the Jabberwocky has taken Henry and is posing as me to gain his trust." Regina: "Clearly you had a hand in this, too. What was it?" Rumplestiltskin: "Regina, I swear to you, I've not seen Henry since before Belle and I left for our trip around the world after the Black Fairy's curse. The Jabberwocky wanted you two out of the way and that's why she had me convince you to leave the magical realms for your honeymoon." Regina: "Why didn't you just tell me all this when we were alone together?" Rumplestiltskin: "Because the Jabberwocky would've sensed my betrayal. I couldn't risk Belle and Gideon's lives. I'm sorry." Regina: (Annoyed, sighs:) "All right, well what about Belle and Gideon?" Hook: "They're safe. Lily, Elsa and the others rescued them from a cave in Arendelle." Regina: "Good. So... I assume you have a way for us to get back home?" Hook: "Well, I had a magic bean, but I lost it on the trip over." Regina: (Rolling her eyes:) "Great." Alice: "I might have something. (Opens her bag and pulls out her looking glass:) I've been keeping this for a rainy day." Robin: (As Alice hands the looking glass to Rumplestiltskin:) "Will it work?" Rumplestiltskin: "Well it's cracked in three places. Which means it's possible it's magic may not work." Emma: (Enters, pulling her jacket on:) “There's only one way to find out." Hook: "Wait, don't all looking glasses lead to Wonderland? How do we know Henry's even there?" Emma: "We don't, but it's a start." Rumplestiltskin: "No, I have a better idea. If the Jabberwocky is passing herself off as me, there's only one place she could be holding Henry." Regina: "The Dark Castle." Rumplestiltskin: (Nods:) "Now if the three of us concentrate our magic onto the looking glass, I think we can make it take us there directly." Emma: "Well we definitely don't have time to fly home. Let's do this." (Rumplestiltskin places the looking glass on the ground and Emma and Regina stand beside him. As the three of them direct their magic onto the mirror, Robin and Alice hold hands before all six of them jump into the looking glass, and vanish.)

The Enchanted Forest. (At the entrance of Medusa's cave, David and Snow White cautiously descend the lair steps.) Snow White: (Whispers:) “Keep your eyes down.” David: (Whispers:) “How are we supposed to find her?” (A high-pitched screech comes from deep within the cave. David pulls Snow White behind a pillar.) Snow White: “I doubt that will be a problem.” (Nearby, Medusa slithers past a corner as her tail drags behind.) David: “Stay here. I'll draw her out. When she passes by...” Snow White: (Draws the sword:) “I'll do the rest. Remember, whatever you do, don't look in her eyes.” David: “Yeah.” (They ready their positions. Snow White nods, after which David rushes out to attract Medusa's attention.) David: “HEY!” (Medusa turns around, letting out an angry screech, before being goaded into chasing David as he runs down the hall.) David: “NOW!” (When Medusa passes by, Snow White leaps out to severe her head, but the sword breaks instead.) David: “Snow!” (Snow White flees and regroups with David.) Snow White: “That wasn't part of the legend.” David: (Breathing heavily:) “Fantastic development.”

The Dark Castle. (Landing hard and sliding across the floor, Emma and Regina arrive inside the Dark Castle.) Emma: "Hook?! Gold?!" Regina: "Robin?! Alice?!" Emma: "What happened to them?" Regina: "I'm not sure. But we've got bigger things to worry about. (Looks around:) Rumple's castle." Emma: "Seems a lot darker than I remember." Regina: "By the looks of it, a few things have changed since the last time I was - here." (The Jabberwocky enters the room.) Jabberwocky: "Yes, they certainly have." Emma: "You're the Jabberwocky, I presume?" Jabberwocky: "And you're the Savior." Regina: "You took our son. Where is he?" Jabberwocky: "He's safe. Henry's upstairs living the life he was always destined for, and now he's perfectly happy. I recommend you abandon all plans of 'saving' him and leave." Emma: "We're not going anywhere." Jabberwocky: (Smiles:) "I'm so glad you said that. For someone so filled with light magic, there's an awful lot of darkness in your past. Perhaps I can use that to my advantage?" (The Jabberwocky laughs and transforms into Cruella de Vil.) Cruella: "Hello, darling."

Enchanted Forest. (Brushing himself down, Rumplestiltskin finds himself facing his old home.) Hook: (Approaching from behind the house:) "Still no sign of the others. (Looking around:) Can't say I recognise this place at all." Rumplestiltskin: "Well, I can't account for the others, but I know exactly where we are. This is my old home. I never wanted to see this place again. (Thinks:) Which is why we're here. The Jabberwocky is pushing buttons. She cracked Alice's looking glass to manipulate exactly where we all ended up.” Hook: “And this detour is meant to...?” Rumplestiltskin: “To remind me of when I became a coward. (Points at the large hammer on the ground:) I used this to hobble myself to avoid fighting in the Ogre's War. But this is one battle I won't back away from. If the Jabberwocky wants a fight, that's exactly what she's gonna get.” Storybrooke. (Granny steps out of the diner carrying the dwarves’ lunch order.) Granny: "Here you go, Leroy. The usual. Times seven." Leroy: "The greatest sandwich in all the realms." (Holding the sandwiches in one hand, his pick axe in another, Leroy turns and is knocked over by Alice & Robin who appear from nowhere.) Robin: "Oh, no! I'm so sorry. (Helping him up:) Are you okay?" Leroy: "I'm fine. My lunch ain't so lucky!" Granny: "Where did you girls come from?" Alice: "It's a bit complicated, but, um, we're here to save Henry and everyone from the Jabberwocky." Granny: "The what?" Archie: "I saw Henry at his graduation, he's fine. Last we heard he was off seeing the world." Alice: "Ugh! Do I have to explain everything? I accidentally tricked Henry into the Jabberwocky’s clutches and now she’s kidnapped him, and now he's in trouble and the point is, Henry Mills needs our help!” Robin: “Right now, he's in need of a serious rescue operation, so go tell Snow White and Prince Charming.” (Leroy, Archie and the others just stare at them.) Alice: “Sorry. Do you understand us, or do we have to try again?”

Leroy: (Nodding:) “Yeah, we understand you.” Alice: (Relieved:) “Oh, finally!” Leroy: “Traitors. (Alice and Robin both scream as Granny pulls out her crossbow:) Traitors! (The girls run away as the dwarves pursue:) Aaaaah!” The Dark Castle. Continued. Regina: "Cruella De Vil. You think you can use Emma's guilt about Cruella's death against her?" Cruella: "Precisely. Or, then again, perhaps we can strike a bargain for you to be my chew toy. Fancy a little, uh, scratch behind the ear, Savior?" Emma: "Twisted's not really my type." Cruella: "Hm, no. (Looks Regina up and down:) Just evil, it seems. (Drawing her concealed sword:) Your loss!" Emma: (When Regina is about to send a fireball at Cruella:) "I got this." (Emma grabs her own sword and they begin to duel. Regina watches on as, circling each other, Emma and Cruella fight it out. After several parry's and thrusts, Cruella backs Emma against a table. Fighting back, Emma regains the upper hand, eventually disarming Cruella and holding her sword to her opponent's throat.) Cruella: (Breathing heavily:) "I mean, surely, such a noble group wouldn't murder an unarmed woman, hmm?” Regina: “Oh, no, of course not. But we would certainly tighten your leash. (Regina uses her magic to make Cruella disappear and reappear inside a large cage:) Now, be a good girl and tell me where Henry is.” Cruella: “I think you forget who you’re dealing with.” Jabberwocky: (Back in her true form:) “Henry isn’t the one you should be worried about.” Emma: “What are you talking about?” Jabberwocky: “Maybe you should take a trip downstairs and see what your little boy’s been up to. Oh, and here’s a little warning; knowing where they are and freeing them is a completely different animal.” (The Jabberwocky disappears from the cage with a snap of her fingers.)

Dark Castle. Basement. (Emma and Regina make their way down the castle steps when Emma hears something.) Emma: "I hear voices. It's coming from the table. (Walking over, Emma uncovers a snow globe, in which dozens of people are trapped inside:) Look, it's Belle." Regina: "Zelena, Aladdin, Jasmine-" Jabberwocky: (Stepping out of the shadows:) "Yes. You all wanted a happy ending. So, now you can stick your friends on a shelf." Regina: "You magicked them in, we can magic them out." Jabberwocky: "Wrong. This bauble is unbreakable. No one can set them free but the Author, and I have a feeling he doesn't want to." (The Jabberwocky disappears once more. Resolving to free their friends, Regina and Emma are about to use their combined magic when Rumplestiltskin enters.) Rumplestiltskin: (Approaching with Hook:) "Wait. Think about what you're doing." Regina: "We have, thank you very much. We're freeing our friends." Rumplestiltskin: "And I'm telling you, that's the wrong play to make." Emma: "Gold, your wife and son are in there too." Rumplestiltskin: "I'm aware of that. And while they are, they're safe. If you release them, the Jabberwocky could convince Henry to write them a much nastier fate. No, the only way to save everyone is by going after the Jabberwocky herself. The Captain and I have already found a way to gain the upper hand. (Holds up a seashell from Ariel:) So you stay here, and I'll deal with her." (Rumplestiltskin walks away.) Emma: "We're just letting him go? What if he's really going to cut his own deal with the Jabberwocky?" Hook: "I'll go with him. Make sure he stays honest." Regina: "No, you don't have any magic. I'll go. Rumple's right, our friends are safe where they are for now. You two find Henry and try to make him see sense." (Regina leaves while Hook turns to Emma.) Hook: "Just like old times, Swan." (Emma shakes her head, spares one last glance at the people inside the snow globe, then heads for the stairs.)

Enchanted Forest. Recent Past. Docks. (Mr. Smee opens a box containing two pistols, each man takes one before they stand back to back.) Smee: "Ten paces. Then turn. Then shoot. (With each count, both men take a step:) One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten!" (Both Hook and Ahab turn and take their shot, each making contact, which sends both combatants to the ground.) Smee: (Rushes over and kneels beside Hook:) "You're fine, sir. Just nicked, which is more than I can say for Ahab. (Glances over at Ahab and his first mate, the former looking the worst for wear:) He may survive the day, but your aim was true as the North Star. (Hook sits up, a pained expression on his face:) What's the matter, sir? You did it, Captain! You won.” Hook: “I haven't won anything of note. (Groans, standing:) I think... I think I've made a dreadful mistake. Mr. Smee, you and the men, take the Jolly Roger out for a trip around the bay, you’ve earned it.” Smee: “Are you coming with us, Captain?” Hook: “No, I’m extremely late for Maleficent. I have to leave.” (He takes off quickly, leaving Smee and the others who have gathered to watch the duel in his wake.)

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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kelyon · 5 years

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Golden Cuffs 37: The Woman

Cover art by @paradigmparadoxical

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

Belle and Leona get to know each other

Read on AO3

Belle trailed behind as Rumpelstiltskin lead Jefferson and Leona through the castle. The couple walked arm in arm and chatted with Rumple, while Belle stayed back, silent and watchful.

She didn’t want to appear unsociable, but everything had become so much that it overwhelmed her. Over the course of the evening, Belle had become aware of herself shrinking back, becoming smaller in how she acted and reacted to the others around her. Everyone else here seemed so much bigger than her, older and more experienced. Jefferson and Leona had none of her trepidation. Rumple was playing his role so well she couldn’t say that he was pretending at all. That unnerved her more than anything else. Did she know him at all anymore?

Leona looked over her shoulder at Belle. “Everything alright back there? You don’t mind bringing up the rear?”

It was a perfectly reasonable question, but Leona’s cheeky grin meant it was supposed to be a joke. Belle pulled her mouth into a smile. “I’m fine.”

A furrow appeared between Leona’s eyebrows and she frowned. “No, you’re not.” Reaching back, the other woman took Belle’s hand and brought her up to walk between herself and Jefferson. The three of them linked their arms together, while Rumple sauntered on ahead. “What’s wrong, sugar bug?”

Belle looked between Leona and Jefferson. There was no point in hiding her inexperience from them. “I’ve never done anything like this before, not really.” Not willingly, she thought but didn’t say.

Jefferson put his palm over Belle’s hand. “The first time you do anything is nerve-wracking,” he said. “But if you don’t try, you’ll never know how much you might like something. You just gotta do the brave thing.”

“And then bravery will follow,” Belle murmured. She knew that. She had known it all her life! She didn’t used to be afraid of things. She used to trust Rumple, trust that he would keep her safe, that he would care for her no matter what. She used to think that she was too valuable for him to ever put her at risk. Now she knew better.

If only she could say that the change had come on gradually. If only she could act like the dissolution of her bond with Rumple was inexplicable. But Belle knew what had happened. She knew the specter that hung over her, why her mood had become despondent: The last time she had been with anyone but Rumple was when he had given over to Regina and Maleficent. The last time she had trusted him, he had allowed her to be tortured and raped.

Her throat closed up. It was hard to breathe. Gods, how she hated this! She didn’t want to keep thinking about it, about Regina and Maleficent and the fact that Rumple had let it happen. She didn’t want to think about how she didn’t trust him now.

Ever since she had gotten back, Belle had denied that fact, even to herself. But she couldn’t pretend anymore: She didn’t trust Rumple to protect her from harm, and she didn’t trust him to care for her after she had been hurt. He had done well in the immediate aftermath--tending her wounds and making sure she was physically safe. But after that, he had avoided her, distanced himself from Belle and her troubles. She couldn’t talk to him about her fears, which only made them all the more daunting.

Even this night with Jefferson and Leona felt dubious. Surely there was more happening here than Rumple let on. What did he have planned for the evening? What was her place in this group? Belle had known the couple only briefly, but already she had more faith in their good intentions than in Rumple’s. What did he really want from all of them?

He had told her that he wanted to give them to her, that taking other lovers was for her benefit. But didn’t he desire Jefferson for himself? Hadn’t Leona fascinated and intrigued him? He had only fucked Belle earlier that day because he was excited by the thought of seeing them. Was adding more people a way to have less of her? Did Rumple want her at all anymore? Did he like her at all anymore?

As Belle’s thoughts spun, Rumple lead them up a flight of spiraling stairs. She didn’t recognize this place, but she knew it was another tower. So many important things in Rumpelstiltskin’s life seemed to be in the towers of this castle. His safest room was in a tower, and so was his work room. Even the library he had given to Belle was a tower. And now this tower held the room where he would bring three lovers at a time.

Stopping at the door, Rumple turned around to face them all. “Before we begin, I want it clear what my expectations are.”

Warily, Belle raised her eyes off the ground. Would he give her the answers to her questions?

Leona Ogg put her free hand on her hip. “And your expectations are the ones that matter?”

“Yes,” Rumple said matter-of-factly. “But it’s quite simple: I expect the two of you to do things for Belle that I cannot.”

Belle blinked. Her mouth opened, but Jefferson spoke before she got the chance.

“What can’t you do, Dark One? I thought nothing was beyond your reach!” Beside Belle, Jefferson shifted and fidgeted, practically bouncing from foot to foot. His body was as wound-up as a mechanical toy about to let loose.

Rumple’s smile did not meet his eyes. “Among other things, I make a very ugly woman. So, Leona, I expect you to give my girl every possible pleasure that a woman can give another woman.”

Leona snorted. “But you only asked us to stay one night!” She grinned at Belle and Belle tried to smile back. She did her best to focus her mind on the pleasures she would have with Leona. They would enjoy each other. She would make Leona happy. It would be good. Everything would be good.

Rumple licked his lips. “And I understand that you brought some of your… accessories.”

“I’m holding those,” Jefferson pulled at the leather strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. “But Leo is the best with using them.”

“What accessories?” Belle looked back and forth between the other two, and then at Rumple. They all seemed to know something that she didn’t, like they were finalizing a plan that she was just now learning about. What were they talking about? What were they going to do to her?

Leona squeezed Belle’s silk-draped arm. “I’ll show them to you, luv. Don’t be scared. My toys can take some getting used to, but I’ll warm you up first and we’ll go nice and slow.” She ran her hand down Belle’s arm and laced their fingers together. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Soothed by Leona’s touches and words, Belle breathed. She had to keep reminding herself that these were good people. They had proven themselves from the moment they had met. Leona and Jefferson wouldn’t hurt her. They weren’t going to press their advantage over her. And they liked her as much as she liked them. She was safe with the two of them.

Belle didn’t realize that Rumple had been looking at her until his eyes shifted to Jefferson. “My boy,” he said. “Your task is to want Belle. You are a handsome, healthy human man. You are young and good--”

“Though just enough of a bastard to be worth liking,” Leona interrupted, and Jefferson grinned, playing at being abashed.

Rumple went on. “You are the kind of man Belle deserves. Your task tonight is to make her know it, without question or caveat, to give her the complete physical certainty that she is the most desirable woman in the world.”

Jefferson looked first at his wife--who gave an almost imperceptible nod--and then at Belle. It took her a moment to realize that he was waiting for her response, that he was giving her a choice in this matter. Jefferson wasn’t going to take her just because Rumple had told him to. He was waiting for her approval too.

The knowledge brought a soft glow into her heart, warmth and light filling her spirit. Together, Jefferson and Leona had offered her a candle flame--friendship and kindness to warm her gently before they all succumbed to the hotter fires of lust.

When Belle nodded, Jefferson gave her a wide smile. “Treat Belle like the most desirable woman in the world? Shouldn’t be hard.”

“No, it should be plenty hard or else it won’t fit!” Leona cackled at her own joke. Then she looked at Rumpelstiltskin and smirked. “But how will you come with all of this, Mister Dark One? Don’t forget, you and I made a deal.”

Rumple regarded her evenly, looking from her face to her body and then back again to her eyes. “I never break a deal, Mrs. Ogg. Don’t worry about that.”

Jefferson lowered his arm so that he held Belle’s hand just like Leona did on her other side. “Is there anything else you want, Belle? Most of tonight is going to be about you and your pleasure.”

Belle felt herself blushing. She looked shyly at Rumple. “It doesn’t need to be. About me, I mean.”

Rumpelstilskin looked back at her, his face softer than it had been in some time. “None of this would exist without you, my dear. The three of us would have no reason to meet if it weren’t for you. You have served me so well, and suffered so much. I want to repay you, as much as that’s possible.”

Even as she smiled at him, Belle clenched her jaw to shut out the words she wanted to say. When would Rumple learn that not everything had to be a deal? When would he know that he didn’t have to pay her? Would he believe her if she told him that she would be his no matter what? When could she tell him that her love didn’t come at a price?

Never. Rumple didn’t want to hear any of that. So she knew she would never say it. Her love was just another emotion that she couldn’t trust him to care about.

Still, Belle nodded and silently agreed to his plan. Satisfied that everyone understood their instructions, Rumpelstiltskin opened the door.

The room inside was small and warm. It seemed designed to be a place of intimacy. A fire burned in the hearth, and candles illuminated the walls. Like all the tower rooms, this place was a circle--though smaller than any other tower Belle had been in.

Above their heads, a glass dome sheltered them from the night sky. It seemed to be the twin of the dome in Rumple’s safest room. Belle’s heart lifted at the memory of sunlight pouring into that room. How it had bathed their bodies in golden light, the very first time she had seen Rumple’s skin. They had lain together in the sun, both of them naked and honest with each other for the first time. Now Belle wondered if that had been the last time she would have such intimacy with Rumpelstiltskin.

“Call me mad, but I was rather expecting a bed,” Leona’s voice broke through Belle’s thoughts.

Looking down from the dome, Belle saw what Leona meant. There was no furniture in this room, except for a table and three chairs off the side of the fireplace. In the center of the tower--where one might have expected a bed--there was a pit, sunken into the ground. It was full of luxurious pillows, soft cushions, and blankets draped over everything.

“Now, Mrs. Ogg, I thought you were a woman of the world,” Rumple teased. “Surely you know how crowded a bed can be once there are more than two? This arrangement will allow us to spread out in comfort.”

Leona’s mouth screwed up as she looked down into the pit. Belle tried to see what she was seeing. A cushioned bench lined the edge of the pit in a circle that was only broken by a small staircase that lead up to the floor. The pillows and cushions were arranged in the center of the pit, on a plush surface that was as big as two beds put together.

“I can see the use of this,” she announced.

Jefferson had already descended the steps into the pit. Though he was normally the tallest of the four of them, when he stood in the center, his head was at the level of Belle’s waist. When he took a step up and placed his feet on the plush cushions of the bench, his face was directly in front of Leona’s expansive bosom. For a moment, the couple’s eyes locked on each other, Jefferson looking up at his wife in utter adoration and Leona reflecting and magnifying his love.

“Oh yeah,” Jefferson smiled. “I like this setup.”

Belle held her arms over her belly, feeling suddenly empty inside. She made herself focus on the pit. She tried to pull her thoughts together to say something new about this sunken playground.

“It reminds me of a nest,” she tried. Her voice wobbled, but at least she wasn’t silent.

After a glance at her husband, Leona left him and went over to Belle. She wrapped her arm over Belle’s bare shoulders. “That makes sense,” she said. “It is a safe place for little chicks to flap their wings and learn to fly.”

To her mild irritation, Belle blushed. “I’m not that inexperienced, you know. I have done things.”

“And had things done to you, I can tell.” Leona’s fingers trailed down the scars on Belle’s back. “There’s no shame in it, chickadee, I promise. Doing or not doing or having been done to--none of it has to make a difference in who you are in your heart. Not unless you want it to.”

Belle looked down. “I don’t know about that,” she said, too quietly for anyone else to hear. “I have changed. For the worse, I think. And I know I didn’t want to.”

Leona put her hands on Belle’s face and gently lifted her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Jefferson told me the sorts of things that happens in that woman’s kingdom and I’m so sorry that you had to go through anything like that. We’re going to try to make you feel better. If you need anything, just tell me. If you need to stop anything or slow down, please tell me.”

Belle bit her lip, closed her eyes against tears. “Rumple wouldn’t want me to stop.”

“That lizard-man is a damn fool if he thinks you can go and go without stoppin’. That’s why I’m telling you to talk to me if you need help. Clearly, that one isn’t doing his duty by you.”

Belle looked up sharply at those words. How could Leona say that? What did she know about how Rumple treated her? Belle looked around the room for Rumple. Had he heard that accusation? What would he say if he knew what this woman was saying about him?

But Rumpelstiltskin was crouched over the fire with his hands extended into the flames. It looked like he was controlling how hotly they burned. As far as Belle could see, the task was occupying all of his attention.

“You’re wrong.” She kept her voice low, so he wouldn’t hear. “Rumple saved me from the ogres. He saved everybody. That was his duty to me. That was all that he needed to do to have me belong to him forever.”

Leona wrinkled her nose. “What a man does to get a girl and what he does to keep a girl are two different things.”

“He doesn’t have to do anything to keep me.” Absently, Belle fidgeted with the cuffs on her wrists. “I made a deal.”

“Yeah, you said,” Leona said softly. “But it’s still true that people with power have to watch out for people without power. That’s the duty. You’d think Mr. Everything-Comes-at-a-Price would remember that.”

“He… watches for me.” Belle’s voice died halfway through the statement. She knew that she was fooling herself, even before she saw Leona’s disbelieving raised eyebrow. Why was she defending Rumple? She knew that he was treating her shabbily. Her own thoughts had been so recently consumed with the fact that she didn’t trust him as well as she used to. It felt like a reflex for Belle to insist that he wasn’t as bad as he could be, that she was happy and satisfied with the deal they had made. That may have been true once, but it wasn’t now. And Leona could see it.

“You give him a lot,” the other woman said, more seriously that Belle had ever heard her. “He needs to give back, especially to a woman who loves him as much as you do.”

Belle gasped, and Leona pulled her in to a close embrace so she could whisper in her ear.

“Remember, my mum is a witch,” she said. “She taught me the ancient and eldritch art of Seeing Things That Are Right In Front Of Your Bloody Nose. It’s a useful skill and apparently a rare magic in these parts.”

Gripping her wrists so she could get her small arms all the way around Leona’s body, Belle hugged the other woman tightly. “Please don’t tell him what you know.”

Leona squeezed Belle right back. “If he don’t know by now, nothing I say will convince him.”

Giddy with relief, Belle giggled and rocked in Leona’s arms. It was so good to be understood, to have her heart be known without shame. She breathed, a deep and full breath--as though a friend had just freed her from a constricting corset. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. For the first time in ages, she didn’t feel the need to hold in her emotions. For the first time in ages, her emotions were happy.

Holding Belle’s face in both hands, Leona Ogg wiped away her tears. “How are you, luv?”

Belle nodded, and couldn’t stop smiling. “Good,” she said. “I feel very good.”

“Good,” Leona said gently. Then she looked into Belle’s eyes, every bit as lovingly as she had looked at Jefferson. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Belle whispered, without even the thought of hesitation.

Leona’s kiss was soft and wet. Her hands started on Belle’s cheeks, but they soon shifted to hold her neck, and then her shoulders. It was a watchful kiss, almost wary. The woman seemed ready to stop in an instant, if Belle gave even a hint of discomfort.

But there was nothing uncomfortable about kissing Leona. Her mouth was warm and inviting. Belle slid her arms around Leona’s wide waist, feeling for a way to fit her body against her soft curves. They might have kept on kissing forever, but they were interrupted by a high-pitched whistle and the sound of clapping.

“Excellent start!” Jefferson cheered from his place in the center of the nest. “But if we’re gonna do this right, we should probably start taking clothes off.”

Leona turned her gaze away from Belle to laugh at him. “You first!” she called down.

“Don’t have to ask me twice!” Jefferson grinned and began to loosen his cravat. He pulled the patterned silk away from his neck and tossed it to his wife. Undressing exposed the collar that he wore, black leather with an iron ring, exactly the same as Leona’s.

As Jefferson removed his hat and coat and trousers, Belle stayed focused on the collars. Leona’s looked so natural on her that it seemed like a piece of jewelry. Belle hadn’t even remarked on it before now. What Leona wore was almost a choker, the way Belle’s cuffs were almost bracelets. But it was odd to see a man so adorned. A simple strip of black leather gave such definition to Jefferson’s body. It would draw anybody’s attention. It marked him, even when he was otherwise naked.

“Your husband is a fine figure of a man,” Rumple came up behind them. He had been silent while Jefferson had stripped down, and even now he was subdued and still. A shiver went up Belle’s spine at that stillness--and what would come when he finally did make a move.

Leona looked Rumpelstiltskin over. “I’m looking forward to seeing your figure.”

His smile was tight. “Ladies first.” He gave a little bow and gestured to the two of them.

Leona shrugged. “House rules, I suppose.” She turned around, so her back was to Belle. “Would you mind, luv? This dress don’t come off without help. Good thing help is never hard to find!”

Belle giggled as she undid the laces on the back of Leona’s gown. It was the same copper-colored silk she had worn on the night of the party. The cut was very fine and the color contrasted nicely with Leona’s creamy-pink skin. Helping the other woman out of her stays and her shift, Belle got her first look at Leona Ogg.

She was beautiful. Leona was larger than any person Belle had been with before, and all the more wonderful for it. From her round shoulders to her dimpled knees, Leona’s body was expansive and welcoming--like a home. It made Belle aware of her own smallness, but that didn’t trouble her. Leona’s size was a comfort. She was like a fertility goddess, a symbol of abundance and power. With this incredible woman caring for her, Belle knew that she would be safe.

“You’re gorgeous,” Belle whispered as she extended her hands for Leona to take.

“The view’s pretty good from behind, too!” Jefferson called up to them from the center of the nest. Leona snorted and waved him off.

There were shining marks on her breasts and belly and thighs, signs of motherhood that Belle would never know. Leona’s body jiggled when she laughed or moved, blushing pink flesh rippling like waves across a pond. What would that body look like in the throes of passion? How much power would there be in Leona’s orgasm? And what could the mind behind those winking dark eyes do to pleasure Belle?

Behind her, Belle heard Rumpelstiltskin’s footsteps. His hand touched lightly on the egg-blue silk that wafted around her arm. He grabbed the fabric in his hands and ripped it away from her body.

After the softness of her time with Leona, that sound was so sudden and so loud that it felt obscene. Instantly, Belle felt her heart race and she gripped Leona’s hands for support. Was it fear that made her react this way? Or was it desire? All Belle knew was the feel of Rumple’s hands on her, Rumple ripping off the dress he had made her. Every second, she was more naked, more entirely his creature.

Her back arched as he tore the dress away from her body, and she leaned in to Leona. The other woman looked confused, perhaps she was going to object. But Belle’s mind had become too hazy for her to object to anything.

“There,” Rumple said casually, when the silks and satins were a pile of rags at their feet. “Now, Mrs. Ogg, you may have your way with my girl.”

He jumped down into the nest and beckoned Jefferson over to him. Leona guided Belle over to the steps, making sure to hold her hands to keep her steady as they descended.

“Are you alright, sweet pea?” she asked when they stood together in the center of the nest.

Perhaps Belle’s nod was a little too loose and enthusiastic, but she couldn’t help the light-headed joy that came over her when Rumple used her properly. If he ripped off her clothes more often, then perhaps they wouldn’t have had to call for Leona and Jefferson in the first place.

Leona tilted Belle’s chin up and looked her in the eyes. “Are you ready for me to make love to you?”

Make love. Belle almost scoffed at the phrase. She had fucked plenty, and had gotten fucked too. She had pleasured herself and others, and been pleasured in return. But when had love ever been a part of it?

Her eyes gradually focused as she looked over at Rumple. He had changed into a dark gold dressing gown and now lounged on the bench with Jefferson’s head in his lap. Jefferson lay perpendicular to Rumple, his long, muscled, naked body on full display. One of Rumple’s hands toyed thoughtlessly with Jefferson’s collar. Both men had their eyes on her and Leona.

“Hey,” Leona said softly, getting Belle’s attention back. “If we do this, it won’t be for them. I want to make you happy, Belle. I want you to know how much love you deserve to get, and how much love you are capable of giving, if you choose to give it to me.”

After a deep breath, Belle nodded. “I want that,” she said finally. But how to begin? “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Leona smiled like her heart was breaking with love. “Yeah,” she breathed.

They kissed. And they touched. And they embraced. Leona’s hands got tangled in Belle’s thick hair, while Belle’s fingers ran smoothly through Leona’s silky yellow tresses. Smiling, the two women pulled away from each other.

“You’re so soft,” Belle marveled.

“You’re so smooth,” was Leona’s answer. “Even when I was as young as you, I was never as skinny as you!” Her hands slid down Belle’s narrow waist and she playfully lifted her off the ground.

Kicking up her heels, Belle laughed and tightened her grip around Leona’s neck. For a moment, Leona’s face was buried in between Belle’s small breasts. The warmth of Leona’s breath on her nipples made Belle gasp with sudden desire.

“Perfect,” Leona sighed as she set Belle back on her feet. “You’re perfect.”

“So are you,” Belle whispered. She made herself comfortable, lying down on a collection of pillows on the ground. Leona joined her and the two women lay side by side. They kept kissing, gently exploring each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths.

Belle knew that Leona was holding back. She allowed Belle to set the pace, let her make the first move whenever possible. It was Belle who moved her kisses from Leona’s lips to her neck. She nibbled on her earlobes and mouthed the soft slope of her shoulders. Leona kissed back at whatever flesh was made available to her, but she took no liberties, and did nothing that Belle had not done to her first.

They weren’t together long before Belle gently rolled Leona onto her back. She straddled Leona’s waist and began to caress her breasts. They were pink and round and heavy in Belle’s hands. She could feel the tissue inside them, large and dense and wonderful. Under Belle’s touch, the area around Leona’s nipples tightened and puckered. Leona gasped and shut her eyes in delight. Her body seemed so fascinatingly complicated. Would that make it more difficult to pleasure her?

Without warning, Belle’s mind filled with thoughts of Regina and Maleficent--of their breasts and their bodies, and their demands that she satisfy them. Her breath caught in her throat, and her chest tightened and--

“Hey.” A quiet voice, a soft hand on her face. Leona. Sitting up and looking at Belle. “Come back to me, little dove.”

Belle breathed. She looked over at Rumple, who was still sitting with Jefferson on the other side of the nest. He had leaned forward, though, as if he were about to stand up and go to her. Jefferson was also watching her with intent concern.

“I’m alright,” Belle tried to smile at them all. “Really. Th-thank you. ”

Rumple leaned back and said nothing, his face deliberately expressionless.

Leona smoothed her hand over Belle’s hair. “Do you want to keep going?”

Belle nodded. “We barely got started before I ruined things.”

Leona put her fingers over Belle’s lips. “Stop that,” she said, gentle but firm. “Sex that can be ruined by honest emotions isn’t sex worth having.” She gave a pointed look at Rumpelstiltskin before she moved her hand away from Belle’s mouth.

Belle felt her heart pounding in her chest. Had she ever met a woman as amazing as Leona Ogg? Sitting up on her knees, Belle put her hands on Leona’s thighs.

“I’ve used my mouth on women before,” she said. “I didn’t like it then. But I think I would like it if I did it for you.”

Leona’s smile was sweet and broad. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to finish the job. Fingers work just as well, or I can take care of myself.”

Belle licked her lips. “I fucked a mermaid once,” she said. Why not tell Leona everything? “I made her come by sucking on her breasts.”

“Oh, that is nice.” Leona looked slyly at her husband. “That’s Jefferson’s favorite thing to do with his mouth on a woman.”

“Don’t pigeon-hole me,” Jefferson called over to them. “There are a lot of things I like to do with my mouth! On a woman or a man or anyone else!”

Still smiling, Leona opened her legs. Belle knelt in between her thighs and licked her lips. The hair between Leona’s legs was short and neat. It looked like it had been trimmed with scissors. Belle reached out and touched the soft curls, already feeling some on her fingers. Where Leona’s hair began, Belle’s thumb brushed against a long, straight line in her skin.

“What’s that?” Belle asked.

Leona strained her neck and sat up to see what Belle meant. “Oh, my scar.” Her fingers met with Belle’s to trace the line of it. “When our Grace was born, she didn’t come out right at first. That got a little scary, but we managed. My mum had to cut me open, pull the baby out, and then sew me back together.”

Belle looked up at Leona. “You survived that?”

“Well that’s the whole point of scars, isn’t it? To show what you’ve survived. Of course, I’m lucky Mum is the best midwife in the world. Otherwise my story might have been a sad one.” Leona swallowed, her smile fading just a little. “But I’m here. And I’ve got my family, no matter the pain it took to get there. And maybe I’m fit enough to help other people with their pain, hmm?”

She touched Belle’s face, and Belle found herself blushing. It was hard to imagine Leona in pain, hard to believe that she was ever frightened or unsure of herself. Harder still to imagine that this incredible woman wanted to help her, to make her happy and share the strength that seemed to come to Leona so naturally. Belle bent her head, put her lips to the scar, and kissed along the line that marked Leona’s suffering and survival.

After that, it was easy enough to trail a line of kisses down her thighs, to circle around the folds of her flesh, and to finally dive in to Leona’s pleasure. She was wet and warm and wonderful. Leona even tasted wholesome and comforting--like a bowl of soup, and warm, doughy bread. The only thing Belle wanted more than to pleasure this woman was to consume her. How lucky that she could do both.

Belle wrapped her arms around Leona’s thighs, like vines clinging to the branches of a mighty tree. She braced herself against Leona’s sturdy weight, and plunged in. She licked and sucked and kissed and lapped up Leona’s wetness. She ground her nose and her chin against all the spots that made the other woman shriek and moan.

If Belle’s mind wandered to think of the last time she had had a woman in her mouth, she could quickly exchange the memory for the reality of what she was doing right now. She wasn’t fucking Regina and she wasn’t fucking Maleficent. She was fucking Leona. Belle could focus on the realness of Leona’s body the same way she focused on the solidness of the objects near her when she had an attack. Leona was real. Leona wanted nothing bad for her. Leona would make her feel good, and Belle wanted to pleasure her.

As much as she could, Belle told her senses to focus on Leona. The soft and wavy texture of her skin, the high-pitched, girlish sounds that Belle elicited. She concentrated on the taste and the smell of Leona--unique and different from any other body she had ever known. In the darkness, when Belle closed her eyes, she would forever have the memory of the close, clenching heat of Leona Ogg’s cunt.

Leona came slowly, but with a force that Belle envied. She had read a book once, about far-off islands where the mountains spewed fire into the sky and poured out molten earth that could destroy whole cities. That was the power of Leona’s orgasm. She shouted out her pleasure and drenched Belle in her hot wetness. The intensity was so much that Belle felt her own insides clenching, just from being so near it.

She shook and convulsed in an endless dance of ecstasy, and Belle did all she could to keep up. Gasping for breath, Belle plunged in again and again, desperate to give Leona every pleasure her body was capable of. This was the love Belle could give. This was the act of love that Leona deserved.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Leona fell back onto the pillows, loose and boneless. After a moment, she began to laugh.

“You have done things, haven’t you, duck?”

Belle beamed at the compliment. Her jaw ached, but it was a small price to pay for Leona’s pleasure. She crawled up to face her, and they kissed, Belle’s face still sticky with the other woman’s juices.

“Oh,” Belle said after a moment. “I didn’t get to do much with your breasts.”

Leona put her hand on Belle’s hip, stroking her like a cat. “Well, I’m not out of bed yet--or not bed, but whatever this setup is called. Point is, they’ll be plenty of time for more later. Right now, I’d like to return the favor you gave me.”

Belle clenched again, and bit her lip to contain her smile. Leona wanted to pleasure her! How wet would she find her? How good would she make her feel? How well would Belle be able to come for her?

They switched positions. Belle lay on her back and Leona sat between Belle’s legs. Propped up on pillows, Belle was directly opposite Rumple and Jefferson.

Had she actually forgotten that they were there? She had been so intent on pleasing Leona and enjoying this time of womanly affection that the men in their lives had fallen by the wayside.

Perhaps that was what Rumple had planned. Even now, his eyes were on Belle, but his hands were on Jefferson--one hand playing with his tousled hair, the other smoothly gliding over his muscled chest. Seeing that, Belle squared her shoulders and stared right back at Rumple. If she was being selfish for thinking only of Leona, then he was certainly just as selfish for monopolizing Jefferson. She wouldn’t let herself feel guilty for doing exactly what he was doing.

She kept her eyes on the men even as she felt the warmth of Leona’s mouth on her cunt. She saw Jefferson’s smoldering desire as he watched his wife work--his cock was dark and full between his thighs. Rumple refused to show any expression at all as Belle gave her body over to another person. What was he thinking? Was this what he wanted? Would he ever let her know what was going on in his mind?

All thoughts flew out of Belle’s head once Leona began in earnest. At first, the pleasure had been slow and subtle--the gradual lightening of a sunrise in Belle’s body. But now, the daylight had become fire intense enough melt Belle into a puddle.

Toes and fingers curling, Belle arched her back and moaned. She felt Leona’s face slipping around in her wetness. The other woman lifted Belle off the pillows to hoist her legs over her shoulders as she dove in to her center.

“Oh, Leo!” Belle cried. Pleasure rose up out of her, filling her body with jerking passions. Belle grabbed on to the edge of the bench to keep herself from flopping around like a rag doll. Her knuckles went white and she moaned and screamed--over and over.

When did one orgasm stop and the other begin? How would she know when she was done? Belle’s body shuddered and tried to curl up, but another swipe of Leona’s tongue and Belle was splayed out again. Would she ever be done? Every time she thought she had come to the end of her pleasure, Leona found another way to fuck her senseless.

With her last measure of control, Belle made herself look at Rumple again. His hands were still now, resting on Jefferson’s naked body. His face didn’t move, but he no longer wore disinterested mask. His lips were parted, his jaw slack. His eyes as he looked at Belle were warm and full of longing.

As soon as she read his face, Belle began to clench again. He did want her. He wanted this for her. Every pleasure she was feeling was exactly what he wanted her to have.

Eyes closed, Belle ground her hips against Leona’s face. The other woman dug in deeper--how was she even breathing? Her hands reached out to Belle’s chest and she blindly grabbed for her breasts. One squeeze and Belle was done for. She arched forward with a final, ragged cry and burst.

For a moment, Leona rested on top of Belle’s stomach. They breathed together, and rested in each other. It was only when Leona had caught her breath, that she scrambled over to Jefferson.

Through a haze of pleasure, Belle watched the couple kiss. What an odd picture it was, to see a man lying on top of another man and kissing another woman’s fluids off of his wife’s face. How odd, but how lovely too. Their lips smacked hungrily as they clung to each other. Jefferson slid off of Rumple’s lap and joined his wife on the floor, his long arms encircling her wide body. Clearly, being with other people had only inflamed their desires for each other.

“Belle, you’re delicious,” Jefferson sighed when he broke away from Leona. “May I taste you next?”

Before Belle could nod, Leona patted her husband on the cheek. “Her pussy is a little worn out, if I do say so myself. Maybe you should start somewhere else.”

“An excellent idea, madam.” Rumple looked down at Leona first, and then at Jefferson. “Where would you like to fuck her, my boy?”

#Golden cuffs #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #mad gold #ouat

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