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hookedonapirate · 5 years ago

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By the Stars

Surprise @gingerchangeling, I'm your Secret Santa for @cssecretsanta2k19!

You asked for an order of dark, pirate!Killian, so I did my best to make him dark, I just hope you like how it turned out. The title was inspired by a phrase from your story, Hallowed Be Thy Name, "She said that he was lost. But that he refused ta look up at the sky ta find his way by the stars." It seemed like the perfect title for this story, for even though Killian is a pirate and knows how to navigate by the stars, he still loses his way.

It was so nice to get to know you more (though I was a little paranoid you'd find out it was me 😆). I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

Thank you @ilovemesomekillianjones for beta reading and for all of your help, and @onceuponaprincessworld for being my soundboard and letting me bounce ideas off of you :)

Summary: When the fearsome Captain Hook is hired by the Evil Queen to kill the princess of Misthaven, he is quick to accept. So why does he end up kidnapping her instead?

No curse, no magic.

*Trigger warnings* This story features Dark!Hook and dark themes, including attempted rape (not by Killian), depictions of violence, blood, murder and thoughts of murder. Though this is rated Explicit, there is NO smut, only implied smut and a bit of nudity.

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 10,232

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

He’s contemplated it many times. More specifically, he’s contemplated how he would do it. Would he wrap his hand around her long, elegant neck and strangle her until snuffing the light from her eyes or would he use the dagger currently secured in his sash to end her life? He encases the hilt with his ring embellished fingers to feel the leather in his grip. If he did use his dagger, what part of her would he aim for? The heart? No, he wouldn’t go for the heart. The thought of going for a woman’s heart, like when Rumplestiltskin had ripped out Milah’s heart, makes him cringe. It makes his stomach twist, makes his heart constrict. No, he wouldn’t go for the heart. Instead, he’d go for the neck.

As he tightens his grip around the hilt of the dagger and brushes his thumb over the pommel, he contemplates how good it would feel to slice the sharp steel blade through her jugular. How satisfying it would be to watch the bright red liquid spill over her creamy skin. To watch as all the youthful life vanished from her sweet face, as her body fell limp, as all the blood left her body, leaving her skin paler than it already is.

He’s contemplated the task he’s been endowed with; he’s contemplated it many times. So why can’t he follow through?

Killian Jones is not a good man, he has never hidden that fact nor pretended he was. He steals and murders and does anything necessary to get what he wants, especially if it gets him closer on his path of vengeance. He didn’t earn his rings or his reputation by being a good man. He’s a pirate, the captain of the Jolly Roger, the most feared captain of all the seas. He stole the ship after its former captain, his brother, died while battling in the Royal Navy five years ago. Liam’s death destroyed a part of him that day and ever since then, Killian has led his band of pirates.

Since then, he’s spent years building his reputation as someone who gets the job done, so why does his current job make him hesitate? Normally he can kill without mercy, normally he’s numb to the emotions that are supposed to come along with taking a life. After watching Liam die in his arms and then holding Milah’s lifeless body, he’s become numb to the world, he’s become dead inside. But for reasons he can't explain, he can't kill the princess of Misthaven. Since the day he laid eyes on her, as many times as he’s thought about it, he just can’t find it within his cold, black heart to kill her.

He doesn’t even know her, only what he’s learned while being primed by the Evil Queen, and he’s only ever seen her as he stalks after her in the forest or watches her from outside the tavern. He’s grown familiar with the way her long, golden hair blows in the wind as she rides her horse, he’s grown familiar with the sad, lonely look on her face as he watches her at the bar while she’s wearing a long dark cloak, disguised as just another peasant to the patrons. He’s grown familiar with how feisty she gets when the sailors have had too much to drink and get handsy with her. He’s seen her slap a few in the face or throw her drinks on them. What a waste of perfectly good drink, but then again, the satisfaction of watching the fierce princess stand up for herself and give the sailors what’s coming to them is well worth it. It’s just too bad he’s never had the good fortune of interacting with her.

Part of him wonders why the queen wants her dead in the first place. He understands the ongoing feud between the queen and Princess Emma’s parents; he understands wanting revenge, but still, Snow is not the one who murdered Regina’s lover. So why go after her innocent daughter? This is coming from a pirate who killed a man in front of his wife for calling him one-handed Jones and a man who drowned a sailor for drinking the Captain’s wine. Maybe it’s because she reminds him of himself when he looks at her—like she’s dead inside—and that’s why he can’t find it in him to kill her. His reputation as a merciless pirate captain is at stake, though. Many ships surrender their cargo without a fight because of his reputation, so if it’s compromised, then things will have to get bloody while he repairs his tarnished name.

He can kill the princess, get his gold and be on his not so merry way, or he can leave her be and incur the consequences. He has spied on Princess Emma for a couple of days while his ship is docked in Misthaven, and he has until sunrise to murder her before she leaves Misthaven and marries Walsh, the King of Oz, who is twice her age. If Killian doesn’t murder her, he’ll receive the wrath of the Evil Queen, and then she’ll hire someone else to finish the deed. Unless…

There is one other option, but before he can ponder the thought any further, a familiar face enters the tavern. Seeing the owner of that particular face makes him twitch and fills him with conflicting emotions. It reminds him of the past, both the good and bad memories. Good memories because the man he’s glaring at is Milah’s son, and bad ones because he’s also Rumplestilskin’s son. Baelfire is another person he’s considered murdering so he can finally get his revenge for what Rumplestilskin did to him. He murdered his Milah and took his hand. So it’s only fair that he take the life of Rumplestiltskin’s son in return, right? The only reason Baelfire isn’t dead yet is because he’s Milah’s son.

Although every second he sees Baelfire on this particular night, he becomes more fueled with rage. And not because he’s Rumple’s son, but because he’s engaging Emma in conversation, and she seems to be allowing his attention.

“Come on, slap the bloody bastard,” Killian growls through gritted teeth. “Or throw your drink in his face.”

But she doesn’t, and instead, she leaves with him after a while. Killian hears Emma chatting with Baelfire when they walk out of the tavern. Her voice is much prettier than he’d imagined, as he’s seen her before but he’s never heard her speak until now. Killian peeks around the building and sees her smiling, although it’s the saddest smile he’s ever seen, and perhaps Baelfire has found a way to get through to her. His father is the master of manipulation, so it doesn’t surprise Killian in the least that his son is too.

Killian ducks behind the building so they don’t see him as they head toward the forest. Killian swiftly follows behind them, tiptoeing carefully and quietly without snapping any twigs, which isn’t easy when his only light source is the moon and he has to steer clear of the trail Emma and Baelfire are on. He hides behind a tree when they stop somewhere inside the woods. Killian notices they’ve stopped deep enough into the forest where no one leaving the tavern would be able to see them or hear them. He turns around and tilts his head back until it hits the jagged edges of the bark and he waits. If he’s following through with his plan, he needs Baelfire to disappear.

The air grows eerily silent for a while, he can only hear the hoot of an owl, and he’s not sure why they’ve stopped talking. He thinks he can hear the faint sound of kissing, but he could be wrong.

“Bae, stop,” Emma demands firmly after a minute.

Killian’s ears perk up as he peeks around the tree. Baelfire has her pinned against a tree a few meters away.

“Oh, come on, we’re just having fun before you leave tomorrow,” Baelfire says, his words muffled by her neck as he kisses her there.

“I said stop!” she cries out again, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.

Killian can see the frustration in her movements, the amount of force she uses, and he can hear Emma’s dress ripping as Baelfire reaches under her skirts and presses his body into her. She slaps him hard, tears streaming down her cheeks. His heart actually hurts as he watches the scene unfold. It’s one thing seeing her slap sailors in the tavern when she's been groped or disrespected—Killian at least found a bit of humor in it—but now she’s actually being attacked.

Baelfire grows angry, and after soothing the sting in his cheek with his hand for a few seconds, he captures her wrists and presses them above her head, against the tree. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he barks in a menacing tone as he breathes against her cheek.

Emma turns her head away from him, her features twisted with disgust. “Someone help me!” She continues to shriek until he wraps his hand around her neck and presses her firmly into the tree to silence her pleas.

“Your screams are useless, there’s no one here to save you. So shut up, you stupid—”

Baelfire’s sentence is cut off by the blade of Killian's dagger when he plunges it into Baelfire’s back. His lifeless body falls to the ground, blood seeping into the dirt and coating the tips of the leaves. “I’m here.”

He’s never been this close to the princess before, and for the first time, he sees that her eyes are a mesmerizing green as they widen in fear. Emma’s whole body trembles as she gapes at him.

He once again contemplates slicing her neck, it would be so easy to do, while she’s too frozen in fear and shocked to even try to escape. Whoever would find her and Baelfire’s corpses would think some lurker attacked them in the forest. Only the Evil Queen would know it was Killian’s doing. She would think he was seizing the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, which would be a correct assessment. She would smile sinisterly and be very satisfied with the turn of events. But Killian doesn't care about pleasing her. For some reason, he cares more about the frightened princess’s safety than satisfying the Queen. So he throws the bloodied dagger to the ground next to Baelfire and raises his hands, lifting his gaze to her fearful one.

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmurs sincerely.

“Why did you…” she stammers, trying to retrieve her voice after almost being strangled to death. She soothes her fingers over her neck, her lovely pale complexion slowly returning to her face. “You didn’t have to…”

“I didn’t have to kill him?” he finishes for her. “Let’s just say I carry a personal vendetta against his father after what he took from me,” he snarls, raising his hook.

Emma stares at the curved steel as it gleams in the moonlight, growing even more wide-eyed and frightened. “You’re… you’re Hook?”

Killian steps close to her, flashing her a cheeky grin. “Aye, that’s my more colorful moniker. So you’ve heard of me, princess?”

Emma tries to step back, but the tree behind her halts her attempt. She reaches behind her, gripping onto the bark underneath her fingertips as though it will protect her from whatever Killian plans on doing to her. “I’ve heard stories,” she replies, her voice shaking. “And apparently, you've heard of me, otherwise you wouldn’t know I’m a princess.”

“I told you, love, you don’t have to be frightened. In fact, I’m here to save your life.”

“One, I’m not your love. Two, what are you talking about?” she demands, narrowing her eyes at him, anger quickly replacing her fear. “You may have rescued me from being defiled by that pig, but I highly doubt he’s a murderer like you. And three, how do you know I’m a princess?”

“Because I was hired to kill you.” He steps out of her space and offers his hand. “Now come with me before the Evil Queen realizes you’re still alive.”

Emma’s even more confused, her mouth falling agape, her face paling. “What?!”

Killian sighs and looks toward the sky, praying to the gods that Emma will not make this difficult for him. He looks at her again and can't help but get lost in those luminous green eyes. “I’m taking you aboard my ship so I don’t have to kill you. Which means you have two options; we can do this the easy way, and you can come with me on your own... or we can do this the hard way and I can drag you to my ship kicking and screaming. It’s your choice, love.”

Emma scoffs. “You think I’m going with you?! You’re out of your mind!” She shoves him and storms away.

Killian shakes his head and sighs. He should have known she would try to run away. “The hard way it is.” He turns around and quickly follows behind her, scooping her up in his arms and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

She screams and flails her arms and legs, fighting fruitlessly against him, her fists pounding relentlessly into his back. “Unhand me, pirate!”

“That’s captain to you. Captain Killian Jones at your service.”

~*~

Emma opens her eyes to the light of the sun pouring into the window and finds herself in a warm bed with soft silk sheets and fluffy pillows. At first, she mistakes it for her bed but once her eyes adjust to the light in the room and she sees a wooden ceiling instead of the stone one of her parent’s castle; she knows she isn't in her room. The bed sways slightly from side to side as if she’s on a boat, but that's impossible. What boat is she on? Her brows knit in confusion as she sits up with an urgency her brain isn't quite prepared for, and she gets a little dizzy and cradles her forehead in her palm. She can't even remember the last time she was on a boat; it must have been years ago, when she was merely a child.

After the sleepy fog filters from her brain, she looks around the room. The furniture is sparse and consists of a desk, a bookcase, a hammock and the bed she’s currently sitting in. This is not her family's ship, and once she takes a moment to take in her surroundings, images of last night flash through her mind.

Running off to the tavern once again even though her parents forbid it. Thoughts of escaping Misthaven so she didn’t have to marry a man twice her age. Meeting Baelfire. Having a decent conversation with him. Leaving with Baelfire. Being attacked by Baelfire. A pirate saving her. But not just any pirate. Captain Hook. She remembers him taking her to his cabin and tying her to the bed with rope so she wouldn’t murder him in his sleep.

Emma peers down at the inside of her wrists, which are no longer restrained, and runs her fingers over the red marks where she had struggled to escape. She’d been hoping it was all a bad nightmare, but it was all real. The fearsome Captain Hook had taken her.

She’s heard stories from her parents about him and the Jolly Roger that always make her shiver as if it's a cold winter's night. Then she remembers Hook telling her the Evil Queen paid him to murder her, but instead of murdering her, he wanted her to go with him. She remembers laughing in his face, right before he picked her up and carried her to his ship. Which means she is now on the Jolly Roger. With Captain Hook.

Emma's eyes widen as her heart flits with panic. Why would he save her life? He’s a pirate and a murderer. He stabbed Baelfire easily and effortlessly while his eyes were devoid of any remorse. So why would he spare her life? Emma shifts, attempting to get out of bed, but a figure appears in the doorway. A figure wearing a pair of black boots, leather trousers and a crimson red vest. Her gaze travels up his lean form, appreciating the dark hair poking out of his chest, scruff on his chin and cheeks, the ocean-blue eyes and the dark, unruly hair atop his head that's been ravaged by the sea winds. Emma immediately recognizes him as the man who took her last night. “You… you kidnapped me,” she snaps, glaring at him, the anger she’d felt last night bubbling in her chest.

The toothy smirk he gives her increases the detestation she harbors for him, and she wants to smack it off his face. “Good morning to you, too, princess.” He walks into the cabin carrying a tray of food, wine and a chalice and sets it on the bedside table.

Emma shuffles across the bed, putting more distance between her and her abductor as he pours wine into the chalice. He tries to offer it to her, but she refuses to drink it. “It’s probably poison,” she accuses sharply.

He frowns at her. “I told you I would not harm you, didn’t I?”

“If you aren’t set to harm me, then why did you kidnap me?!”

He sighs and sets the cup on the table. “I could have killed you instead,” he points out, as though it makes up for what he’s done. “But I didn't, and here you are, alive and well, with all of Misthaven thinking you’re dead.”

“They think I’m dead?” Emma shrieks. Her parents? Her brother? They must be devastated. Her heart cracks at the thought, eyes welling with tears.

“Aye, I had to tell the Evil Queen you were dead so she didn’t come after you. I burned Baelfire’s corpse until there was nothing left, and I told her it was your body I burned.” Hook throws a pile of clothes on the bed and sets a pair of boots on the floor in front of the bed. “Some clothes for you, Your Highness,” he says with a snide grin, “so you can change out of your tattered dress.”

“But why… why didn’t you just kill me?!” she huffs and grabs the clothes, chucking them at him angrily.

He dodges them and frowns at her. “Your beauty is more impressive than your aim.”

She responds by reaching across the bed to grab the chalice full of wine, and hurls it at him. He dodges that as well, and it bounces off the wall, its contents splattering the wall and the floor. He grits his teeth, impatience flaring in his eyes. “I’m beginning to ask myself the same bloody question,” he grumbles while picking up the clothes and placing them on the bed. “Just be thankful I spared your life, princess.”

She eyes him suspiciously as he bends over to pick up the chalice from the floor. “Why would you? You must have a reason. My parents say you’re a dirty pirate and a cold-blooded killer without a shred of mercy.”

He scoffs as he curtly sets the cup on the table. “Ah, so you think you know me just because you’ve heard some tales? Please enlighten me and tell me more, because I’m dying to know what the hoity-toity princess thinks of the dirty pirate. The pirate who saved your life, not to mention saved you from being defiled outside the tavern and saved you from entering a loveless marriage with King Walsh.”

“Oh, please tell me what a selfish brat you think I am,” Emma retorts as she springs from the bed and steps into his space. “You think because I’m a princess you know everything about me, right?”

He shrugs. “You’re somewhat of an open book.”

“Oh, really?” she asks, irritation lacing her words as she crosses her arms. “You read minds, pirate?”

“I told you, it’s Captain. And I know you’re unhappy. I could see it when I saw you in the tavern.” His voice is surprisingly soft, but it does nothing to change how she feels about him. Annoyance. Anger. Hatred. The list goes on and on.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Please, that’s called spying, not perception.”

“Eyes are the windows to our souls, Emma. They don’t lie.”

“Oh really? And what do my eyes say?”

“That you’re unhappy, that you don’t want to get married to a man old enough to be your father. You’re too lovely to belong to an old man, anyway.”

“And who should I marry then, hmm?” she challenges, cocking an eyebrow.

Tilting his head, he takes a step toward her and she tries to step back to get away from him, but the edge of the bed stops her. Killian grins and moves in, closing the distance between them. She swears he’s purposely stealing all the air from her lungs. “Perhaps if you had a lusty young lad between your legs, it might take the sadness from your eyes.”

Emma’s face flushes crimson, his husky words vibrating through her. “You forget yourself, pirate!” she warns.

He leans in closer until their lips are only inches apart and speaks in a low voice, “I’m willing to bet you’ve never had a man between your legs.” He licks at his lips as his eyes fall to hers, this time whispering so close she can taste his breath. “Perhaps we should change that.”

Fear surges through her as it did when Baelfire attacked her. She lifts her hand to smack the filthy smirk off his face, but he firmly catches her wrist and lifts the back of her hand to his lips, holding her startled gaze as he places a kiss to the center of her skin.

His lips scorch her skin, the kiss sending a painful ache through her. “Love, you and I both know you didn’t really want to marry Walsh. We both know I did you a favor in more ways than one, so stop pretending like you hate me and show a little gratitude.” He rubs the back of her hand with his fingertips, where his lips had touched and he releases her before walking away. “Now eat your food before it gets cold and get dressed. Then meet me on deck,” he says in a commanding tone, shutting the door behind him to give her some privacy.

Emma is too stunned in her spot, she can’t even throw a tantrum. She can’t huff and puff and yell out her frustrations. Instead, she stands there as stiff as a statue and a little turned on if she’s being honest. She certainly isn’t imagining Hook’s body between her legs as he drives into her. Certainly not. She doesn’t know whether to hate him or...

She shudders at the thought and once she’s able to reassemble herself, she picks up the clothes from the bed and dresses. The outfit comprises a white button-up shirt with long sleeves and black leather trousers, but the fabric smells like the sea and rum and Hook, and she’s definitely not appreciating his scent. The clothes may be too big and baggy on her, and they’re definitely different from the usual attire she’s accustomed to, but she thinks she can get used to them. She hates wearing dresses and corsets. Emma eats her breakfast begrudgingly, deciding it's not poisoned—if he wanted her dead, he would’ve killed her by now—and tugs on his big, heavy boots before she makes her way to the deck.

As she ascends the steps, she hears Hook speaking with one of his men.

“We’re sailing to the island of Crete to sell the princess to the highest bidder. She’s a virgin so she’ll be worth a pretty penny.”

Emma’s blood bubbles under her skin. He had saved her life just to sell her at the slave market?! She’s heard enough. Full of rage, she bursts through the cabin door and storms up to the deck, sprinting to the rails of the ship, but before she could jump overboard, two hands grasp her tightly and haul her back on deck. She squirms in the arms of two pirates as they keep her from attacking the captain who seems to find amusement in her rage.

“You bastard! I’d rather die than be sold as a slave!”

“Looks like you got yourself a tigress,” one of them comments with a hearty chuckle.

“Settle down, love, we won’t hurt you,” Hook says in a soothing voice. Like that’s supposed to comfort her.

Emma scoffs. “You’re just going to sell me off is all.” Her features twist in disgust. “My parents were right, you’re nothing but a dirty pirate.”

She can see the anger spiraling through him as he steps into her space. “In case you haven’t noticed, princess, I am just a dirty pirate, and you’re just another mouth to feed. We, pirates, do what we can to survive. At least you’ll be sold somewhere where the Evil Queen can’t find you.”

Her eyes grow wild, rage cracking through her soul like a lightning bolt. “You think that makes it better?! That I should be grateful you saved me, well it doesn’t! I will never thank you, you bastard!” She spits in his face. “Go to hell!”

Hook grits his teeth and wipes off her saliva, flinging it to the floor and wipes his hand with a handkerchief. She expects him to retaliate but he doesn’t and instead instructs his men to escort her to his cabin to cool down.

But Emma refuses to calm down. She refills the chalice with wine and gulps it down, hoping to keep her body from vibrating with rage.

~*~

As the Jolly coasts smoothly and steadily, rocking gently on the waves, Killian debates with his conscious—something he rarely does. He has to continually remind himself that selling the princess is the best decision. Once Rumple finds out his son is gone, and that Killian is responsible, he’ll be after him. Emma’s not safe on this ship. If the Evil Queen discovers she’s here, she’ll kill her. And he can’t let that happen. So is it better to sell her off, somewhere far away, where she’ll be safe from the Evil Queen, and from himself, or to let the Evil Queen enact her vengeance against Snow? He’s not sure, and he looks out toward the stars for some kind of answer as they glitter in the vastness of the dark sky.

Emma hates him, but he’d rather her hate him than have her dead. But why is he taking such measures to keep her alive? Maybe it’s the fire that burns strong within her or maybe it has to do with how much he wants her. She’s so beautiful and brave and she’s developed a high tolerance for the situation in a small amount of time.

She is captive on his ship, yet she helps out with the chores voluntarily. And she gets along with his crew. Although he has yet to see her wield a sword, he knows she’d make a fine pirate. But he doesn’t trust her enough yet to be sure that she won’t murder him in his sleep. So he ties her to the bed at night while he sleeps in his hammock.

“So beautiful.”

Her lovely voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks over from his helm to see the princess gazing out into the starry night with a silvery moon perched big and bright in the sky. “Very beautiful,” he murmurs, a small smile taking over his face. But he’s not referring to the stars.

Emma doesn't look at him; she hasn't spoken to him or looked his way much since she discovered his plan, but he doesn't blame her.

She has her arms crossed and is wearing a nightgown that had belonged to Milah. Luckily, Milah was a similar size. He sees the princess shiver, but he’s not certain if she’s trembling because of him or the situation or because she’s just cold. Either way, he pulls off his long leather jacket and comes up behind her to slip it over her shoulders.

Emma grabs onto the lapels, securing it around her and turns her head slightly toward him, speaking softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, princess.”

When she stops shaking, he breathes a silent sigh of relief knowing she isn't afraid of him, or at least she doesn't appear to be. He wants to wrap his arms around her to provide further warmth and so he can hold her and comfort and tell her everything will be all right, but he doesn’t even know if it will be. Besides, it’s better to keep as much distance from her as possible. She doesn’t need a man like him in her life. She deserves so much better, even if it pains him to admit it.

“You know, the stars are more than just for show,” he says, standing beside her, gazing over the ocean.

“I know that. I make wishes upon them.”

“What kind of wishes?” he asks curiously.

Emma shrugs. “Well, I used to wish I could travel the world, you know, be away from the castle. Then I was betrothed to Walsh, and I wished I weren’t.”

“It looks like your wishes came true then, love.”

“Yeah, I suppose they did,” she answers solemnly.

They both know this isn't how she had expected her wishes to turn out. His stomach clenches at the thought. “Then I kidnapped you and you wished you could get away from me?” He can feel her stare burning into his skin as he avoids looking at her.

“I wished you weren’t selling me, but no, I don’t wish to escape you. I quite like it here on your ship.”

Killian looks at her in surprise, meeting her gaze, and sees the sincerity pooled in her depths. He could easily get lost in her eyes, just as he’s lost his way in life. He can’t believe after all he’s done to her, she still wants to be aboard the Jolly Roger. She is a tough lass indeed. He peels his eyes away, breaking their trance when he realizes they’re both staring at each other, and he clears his throat. “But do you know how to navigate by the stars?”

She shakes her head. “Isn't that what a compass is for?”

“Aye, a compass determines direction,” Killian says as he leaves her side to grab his sextant from near the helm. “A sextant determines latitude and longitude by measuring angular distances, like the altitude of the stars.” Reclaiming his spot next to her, he holds out the instrument, showing her how to align the guiding star with the horizon. “You can read the angle between the north star and the northern horizon,” he explains, pointing to the brightest star in the constellation with his hook while he holds the sextant with his right hand. “So if you’re ever lost at night, you can look up at the stars to find your way.” She takes the sextant and looks through it as he helps her adjust it, not failing to notice how close they are or how her breath catches when their hands brush. The wind blows through her hair, and he picks up her sweet scent as he turns his head to watch her, their cheeks almost touching. Good lord, she’s breathtaking.

“Wow,” she whispers, gazing through the sextant in fascination. “Where did you learn that?”

“I served as a lieutenant in the Royal Navy before I became a pirate. My brother, Liam, was Captain, and this ship was called the Jewel of the Realm.” His eyes darken at the memories and he looks grimly out over the ocean. “Liam, he died in battle and after that... I lost a part of myself.”

“You lost your way?” she asks, even as she already knows the answer.

He nods, flashing her a quick glance before looking up at the sky again. He can’t believe he revealed that much to her, but somehow he feels like a small weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Emma hands him his sextant. “It looks like you need this more than I do.”

Killian offers her a weak smile as he takes it back from her.

She yawns and pulls off his jacket, returning it to him as she announces she’s going to bed. “Night, Hook.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

He stays in his spot and decides to take a page from Emma’s book and wish upon a star. Killian wishes that he had Liam back, so his wise brother could tell him what to do, to help him find his way again. What he wouldn’t give to hear Liam’s voice again, what he wouldn’t give to hear Liam call him little brother again.

Killian also makes another wish. He wishes there had been someone there the night he had kidnapped Emma, to save her—someone who could've actually protected her. From the Evil Queen. From him.

~*~

Emma wakes to the booms of cannons being fired and the captain shouting orders to his crew. Panic ripples through her blood, her heart racing as she rushes to catch a peek. Emma gasps when she sees Regina’s ship fast approaching, gliding through the water like silk. Guilt rises in her chest. She knows the only reason why the Evil Queen is after the Jolly Roger is because she’s looking for the princess. Had she discovered Emma wasn’t the one who Killian murdered? Or is she here for Baelfire? Emma’s not sure, but she knows she has to do something to help, rather than cower idly below deck and hope Killian and his crew will defeat Regina’s men. But if she goes out there, they will try to take her. As she returns below deck, she thinks quickly and comes up with a plan. Searching around the first mate’s cabin, she finds exactly what she’s looking for.

~*~

Cannons blaze and muskets fire as the fierce battle rages. The air is thick with smoke, reducing visibility, but both sides continue to fire. Killian wouldn’t be the Captain he is today if he gave up so easily. Besides, he has a princess to protect, and the Evil Queen’s men will have to go through him to get to her. Musket balls, cannonballs and even bolts from crossbows fly from both sides. Blood is spilled, bones broken and limbs severed by the onslaught, but it doesn’t faze him. After years of bloodshed on the high seas, Killian has become immune to the horrors of battle.

“Prepare to fight!” Killian cries as the ship closes in on the Jolly Roger. He looks back at his crew to see the pirates drawing their swords, confident and eager for battle. He glances over when someone stands beside him, sword drawn, and he doesn’t recognize them at first and has to do a double-take, his eyes flickering over her face. He’d recognize those emerald green eyes anywhere. “Emma?! What are you doing?!”

She’s dressed in the pirate clothes he’d given her, with the addition of a cap pulled below her ears, her blonde hair nowhere to be seen.

“I want to help. I am well versed in swordsmanship.”

“Go back below deck,” he growls at her. “You’ll get hurt!” The thought pains him more than he’s willing to admit.

“I won’t! I know how to fight, Captain.”

Before he can argue any further, the Jolly Roger is swarmed with enemies, and the sound of metal clashing against metal rings throughout the deck. Killian wants to stay close and keep an eye on her, but that will get him killed quickly. Besides, he doesn’t know if he can stomach the idea of watching, especially if she gets hurt or worse.

“The Queen has sent us for Rumple’s son. Hand him over!”

“He’s not here,” Killian assures them, blowing out a breath of relief.

Emma’s opponent rushes at her with his sword flying high in the air and brings it crashing down. She dodges his attack with a side step but he's quick to recover. With quick speed, he slashes at Emma's stomach, nearly catching her with his sword, but she manages to jump back just in time to avoid being split in two. She fights off several others, sending a few of them overboard, and Killian’s heart swarms with pride. And also relief.

“I knew there was a little pirate in you!” Killian cheers, glancing at her for a second while continuing to fight off Regina’s knights.

Emma flashes him a cocky smirk. “I told you I can hold my own.”

“That you can, love,” he agrees as a sword is thrusting at him. He surges backward, but not before the tip of the sword knicks his neck.

When the battle is over, they have won, at least for now; the Evil Queen had retreated. Though Killian had only sustained a minor injury, several of his pirates are badly wounded.

The ship surgeon and his apprentice retrieve their dressing boxes to tend to the mortal and dangerous wounds first. There are too many pirates down for them to handle at once, so Emma chips in and tends to the men with simple or compound wounds.

Killian is surprised to see her darting from one pirate to the other, applying pressure on their cuts to stop them from bleeding. She does it so quickly and calmly, he’s sure she’s done this before.

Once the situation at hand is under control, Killian goes to his cabin to retrieve his flask full of rum. Emma has proved she would make a fine pirate, and the guilt of her fate is weighing heavy on his mind. She’d be a valuable asset to him and his crew, but the problem is, he doesn’t wish this life for her, which is rather contradictory since he’s about to sell her off as a slave. Perhaps he should just grant Emma her freedom and leave her somewhere, hoping the Evil Queen will never get to her, but for reasons he cannot explain, he can’t stomach that idea. And if she stays on his ship, she won’t be safe either. Not from the storms, not from pirate attacks, not from him.

The rum burns down his throat as he comes close to draining his flask, trying to numb the pain he feels. He thinks the pain is only consuming his heart, but when Emma enters his quarters, she’s studying him with a scrupulous eye and lifting her hand to his neck. Killian’s heart flutters at her touch and he loses a breath as he stares into her gorgeous emeralds while she eyes his neck. Killian shudders at the thought of her kissing him there. It’s not until she removes her hand when he realizes he’s bleeding.

“I need to borrow your flask,” she says, holding out her hand.

Killian cocks a brow at her boldness. “Love, trying to take a pirate’s rum is a way to get yourself killed.”

Emma rolls her eyes and shakes her head, offering a tight-lipped smile. “If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now.”

“Fair point,” he chuckles and hands her the flask.

Before he realizes what Emma’s doing, there’s a splattering of rum on his neck and a sting so strong, he hisses and tries to pull away from Emma.

“You’re hurt. Don’t move,” she murmurs and cleans up the wound. Her face is so close to his, he can feel her breath on his skin. He looks up, trying to ignore how warm and soothing her hands are and how they scorch his skin. It’s been a long time since he’s actually enjoyed the touch of a woman.

“You seem to know what you’re doing, love. You took care of my men without batting an eye at the blood.”

“You forget that I live in the same kingdom as the Evil Queen,” she replies gravely, her eyes still focused on her task. “My parents and I have cleaned up many of her bloody messes before. She leaves innocent townfolk either injured or dead wherever she goes.”

“That much I’ve gathered about her. So, tell me something, why would you help me and my crew when we’re sailing to the island of Crete, where we’re selling you to an auction house?”

Emma’s jaw twitches as she looks up from her task to glare at him. “Because my parents didn’t raise an ingrate wretch. Your crew has shown me kindness and hospitality on your ship and I am grateful for that.”

When Emma’s finished dressing his wound, she hands him his flask, her eyes flicking to his. “All done.”

“Thank you, love,” he says appreciatively, offering a small smile. “You’ve been a lot of help.”

She arches a brow. “So, does that mean you’ll keep me on as a permanent crew member?”

His eyes darken at her question, a solemn look clouding his features. “The Jolly is no place for a woman, love.” He turns around and walks away from her, heading for the cabin door.

“Why not?” she demands stubbornly. “Because of what happened to Milah?”

Killian stops dead in his tracks and closes his eyes, sadness and anger coursing through him. Though he’d gotten his revenge on Rumple, it didn’t make Killian feel any better.

“I found her drawings in the desk drawer, all of them signed by her.”

Killian takes a deep breath, drawing the courage to face Emma again. He turns around slowly, seeing the way Emma looks at him. Not with sympathy, but with a steely look embedded in her lovely features. “She would still be alive if I had never allowed her on this ship, Emma.”

“Hook, you can’t blame yourself for her death. Rumple is the one who took her life, not you.” Emma steps toward him, speaking gently. “You want me to believe you’re only a dirty pirate, but I can see a goodness in you. You loved Milah, you loved her deeply, which means you’re capable of love. You’re capable of being more than a murderous pirate.”

Killian looks at her in awe. “How can you be so sure?” he asks bitterly. “You know the things I’ve done, you know I’m about to sell you off and yet you stand here and tell me I’m capable of being a good man?”

She offers him a small smile. “You’re not the only one who can read people. I just hope one day you’ll realize the type of man you can be. I hope that one day you can find your way again.” With that, she leaves him to ponder his thoughts.

Later that night, he can’t sleep. In fact, he can’t sleep for the next three nights, and the night before they are to arrive in Crete, his mind weighs heavy with regret. He doesn’t wish to send the princess away. He’d even go so far as to say he’ll miss her when she’s gone. But he’d never tell her that. The more distance he can put between her and himself, the better.

From where he lays in his hammock, he can hear Emma huff out a sigh of frustration and hears her shifting in bed, although she’s unable to roll over because she’s tied to the bed. She’s proved to him she’s capable of wielding a sword and he wouldn’t blame her if she tried to kill him in his sleep.

“Can’t sleep, either, love?”

“Tomorrow I’ll be sold as a slave. What do you think?”

“Fair enough,” he sighs.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“Because I’m the pirate who will be responsible for selling you off as a slave.”

There’s a moment of silence after that, and Killian slowly climbs out of the hammock, walks over to his bed and begins untying the ropes from Emma’s wrists.

Even through the darkness, he can see her eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re so sure I won’t kill you in your sleep, huh?”

Killian chuckles. “If you did, it’d be quite ironic—the only person I’ve ever spared is the one to kill me. At this point, I wouldn’t blame you, love. Besides, something tells me it will be a sleepless night for both of us.” Once her hands are free, he soothes his fingers over the inside of her wrists, pressing his lips to each one. Emma’s breath catches and she watches him intently.

“Care for some rum?”

“Please,” Emma replies, practically begging for it.

So he fetches his refilled flask and they both make their way topside. Sitting on the deck and leaning back against the railing, they take turns drinking from the flask.

“So, tell me about Milah,” Emma says, passing him the rum.

Killian is hesitant at first, but with the alcohol flowing through his system and the position he’s in, the position he’s put Emma in, he lets himself be open with her. More open than he’s been with anyone in a long time. The most open he’s been since Milah. And before she came into his life, Liam.

After Killian divulges the painful memories of his past, the conversation flows more easily. They chat about everything. Emma tells him about her life in the palace and he tells her about his adventures at sea. They share a few laughs and they exchange a few smiles, both happy and sad, and a few soft caresses of the cheek that almost lead to a kiss, but Killian refuses to let it get that far. So instead he drops a kiss to the top of her head and lets her rest her head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her.

He can’t help but think how twisted the set of circumstances are. She tended to his wounds, she confided in him and now she finds comfort in him. She trusts him. Even with the knowledge that he’s selling her tomorrow. After her first couple of days aboard his ship, she has been nothing but helpful and kind and compassionate. And as much as he hates to admit this, he’d be a bloody fool to get rid of her.

Killian looks up to the stars again and makes a wish. This time, he wishes nothing for himself. He deserves nothing this life has to offer. No, what he wishes is for Emma to find happiness. He wishes for her to find something that will permanently take away the sadness from her eyes. Perhaps someone.

~*~

Emma wakes to the bright sun streaming through the window, and she stretches her limbs, taking a moment for her brain to wake when she realizes something. Make that two things. One, her wrists aren't tied to the bed, and two, she’s still on the ship. They were scheduled to arrive in Crete at dawn. And it’s well after dawn. Emma can tell by how big and bright the sun is over the horizon. Emma gets out of bed and retrieves Killian’s compass from his desk to look at it. They’re not even heading toward Crete. They're going the opposite way. Emma’s completely baffled and confused as she goes up to the deck and finds Killian at the helm.

“Hook, where are we going?” she demands, crossing her arms over her chest. She��s not sure why she is irritated, because they haven’t arrived in Crete, but she needs to know what's going on before she can think about getting her hopes up. “We’re not docked in Crete as you had planned.”

Killian shrugs without even turning his head to look at her. “We’ll be docking soon, but not in Crete.”

“Then where are we docking?”

“We’re stocking up on supplies…” He turns his head to look at her, donning a grin, “and you’re getting some proper clothes.”

“Proper clothes for what?”

“Clothes that will fit you, love. If you’re going to be a permanent crewmember on my ship, you will need your own clothes.” He turns away from her to continue manning the wheel. “That is if you can handle it.”

Emma scoffs and places her hands on her hips. “I can handle it. I’ve been trying to tell you that all along.”

He sighs and looks at her, guilt and regret flickering in his eyes as he turns around to approach her. “I know that. I’ve just been too stubborn to listen.”

Emma snorts. “I could've told you that.”

He flashes a sarcastic smirk and steps into her space, cocking his head to the side. “So what do you say, are you in or are you out?”

She smiles big and wide and launches herself at Killian, throwing her arms around him. “I’m in.”

Once the shock he feels from her embrace subsides, he smiles weakly and wraps his arms around her, stroking his hand through her hair. “In that case, welcome to the crew, love. Now you’re a true member of the Jolly Roger.”

“Thank you,” she whispers in his ear, squeezing him tightly, “for everything.”

“No need to thank me, Emma,” he murmurs, relishing in the feel of her body pressed against his. But the hug ends too quickly and soon she’s pulling away, leaving him shivering from the loss of her warmth.

Killian informs the others of the new addition and after stocking up on supplies, they celebrate with lots of rum and teach Emma some sea shanties and folksongs.

“So, you lied to her and yourself,” Smee says to him later that night. They’re watching as Emma laughs and socializes with the other crew members.

Killian turns his head to frown at him. Smee is the only man Killian would allow to still have his tongue intact after expelling such an accusation. “What do you mean?”

Smee offers him a small smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I think we both know why you let her stay, even if you won't admit it.” He leaves Killian to consider his statement.

He knows Smee is right, but he’s also right about another thing—Killian will never admit the real reason why he wanted Emma to stay.

~*~

“Bloody hell...”

Emma smirks, her cheeks tinting with blush as he walks into the cabin. “I take it you like how I look?”

Killian can’t even begin to answer, his eyes still navigating over her form and her curves, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. She’s wearing long leather boots, red leather pants and a fitted top with a wide belt that accentuates her breasts. She’d bought the clothes when they had docked to stock up on supplies.

“How do you expect me to captain a ship with you dressed like that?”

Emma shrugs, a sly smirk curving her lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

She leaves the cabin, and he has to pick his jaw up off the floor before he can join his crew on deck. As much of a distraction as she is, he knows he made the right decision to keep her on board.

Later that night, Killian lays in the hammock and Emma takes his bed as usual. He thought he’d be able to sleep that night, but he struggles once again. He almost made a huge mistake, he almost sold her into slavery. How would he have ever forgiven himself? His heart aches at the thought. He’d prefer to say he doesn’t know why he changed his mind, but that would be a lie. He knows exactly why.

“You know, you don’t have to sleep in the hammock anymore. There’s room in the bed.”

Emma’s voice surprises him. He thought she was sleeping peacefully. He cocks a brow and turns his head to look at her from across the cabin. “You’re asking me to join you in bed?”

She props herself up on her elbows so she can see him. “Why not? It’s your bed.”

Killian is a little bewildered and a bit hesitant, but he climbs out of the hammock and strides over to the bed, slipping under the covers. Emma turns on her side, laying her head on the pillow as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Tell me something, Captain.”

He turns his head to look at her, offering a warm smile. He’s tempted to wrap her up in his arms, but he doesn't want to risk losing his spot next to her. He’s not sure how she would react to such a move. “Call me Killian, love.”

“Killian?”

The sound of his name rolling off her tongue is decadent, even better than her calling him captain. There’s something much more intimate about Emma calling him by his real name. He has to pause his thoughts for the moment as she stares at him inquisitively.

“What would you like to know?”

She’s silent for a moment as she bites her bottom lip, mulling over her thoughts. “Why didn’t you kill me that night?”

Ah, he should’ve known his original answer wouldn’t be sufficient for her. She is a stubborn lass after all. “Because I’m a pirate, love. I knew I could make additional gold by selling you.”

Emma nods against the pillow. “Mmhmm, that’s what a pirate would say, for sure. So, what’s the real reason?”

Killian lets out a depleted sigh. He also should have known she’s no imbecile. Lying to her is futile. “Because, love, when I saw you in the tavern, you reminded me of someone.”

“Who?”

He gazes into her eyes through the dark, the moonlight providing the cabin with a silver light that spills over the side of her delicate face. Her green eyes shimmer through the darkness and pierce through his damaged soul. “Me,” he answers in a husky, barely audible whisper.

Emma’s brows furrow with confusion. Then comes the question he knew she would eventually ask him. “So, why didn’t you sell me?”

“Because I knew you were more useful as a pirate on my ship.”

Emma frowns at him in an attempt to pry the truth out of him with a single look.

“Love, if you’re trying to prove that I'm a good man, you're wasting your breath.”

“Why’s that?” she challenges.

Stubborn lass.

He looks away from her again to avoid her intense gaze. “Because my reasons for keeping you aboard the Jolly are purely selfish,” he admits with a heavy sigh.

“And how’s that?”

Killian drags a hand over his face. He knows she won't stop questioning him until she gets every ounce of truth from him. He drops his hand to his side and inhales a deep breath before turning on his side to face her. She waits silently and patiently for his answer and he can’t help but bring his hand to her delicate cheek to stroke her soft skin. “Because everyone I have ever cared about is gone. I can’t lose one more person I love.”

Emma is still silent, her mouth opening slightly, but no words form for a whole minute.

“Well, now I know how to silence you,” he teases with a smirk.

“You love me?” she asks, ignoring his joke.

“Aye.”

His confession surprises her. Hell, his confession surprises himself. He would like to say he’s done a very good job at hiding how he feels about her; at first, he was too afraid to allow himself to feel something for her, but at the end of the day he knows Emma is precious to him. More precious than any gold or jewels or treasure chests. Probably even more precious than the Jolly. He cares about her too much to deny his love for her.

Emma doesn’t respond after that, at least not verbally, and maybe she doesn’t love him yet, but her eyes say much more than her words ever could. And her actions do too when she grabs onto his shirt collar before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It lasts for a few seconds, or at least he thinks. He can’t register the passage of time as his mind clouds over from the feel of her soft lips on his. Killian is sure he looks dumbfounded as he stares at her and tries to process what had just happened. She kissed him and he’s not sure what he did to deserve her affection.

His thoughts are interrupted when Emma seals his lips with hers again, combing her fingers through his hair, and his brain turns to mush. His eyes flutter shut as he moves his lips against hers and slides his hand under her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin. He wraps his free arm around her waist, pulling her in and closing the gap between their bodies. He wishes he had his other hand right now so he could grasp onto her hip and stroke her curves, but he really is not in a position to complain when Emma makes no effort to pull away or shove him away in regret and instead deepens the kiss by sweetly darting a shy tongue between his lips. He parts his mouth, granting her access as he emits a deep, approving groan, and sweeps his tongue into her mouth, getting lost in how sweet and decadent she tastes.

The kiss quickly heats up, he just doesn’t realize to what extent until she’s climbing on top of him and straddling him. She leans over to kiss him again, but Killian pushes her away slightly, gazing up at her with a confused expression. “Emma…” he manages, trying to catch his breath. “What are you doing?” He knows exactly what she’s doing, judging by her lustful stare and the way she drags her center against his throbbing erection. And it’s not that he doesn’t want this. He just doesn’t want Emma to regret anything in the morning.

Emma answers by removing her nightgown and tossing it to the floor. Killian groans as his eyes drink in her beautiful naked form, his manhood hardening even more under her entrance.

“So gorgeous,” he groans and grabs her hip, fighting the urge to fondle her aching, rose-tipped breasts.

She dons a little, sly smirk and leans in to whisper in his ear. “I want to see if you were right. I want to see if having a lusty young man between my legs will take the sadness from my eyes.”

His heartbeat quickens, breath catching in surprise. He never thought he'd see the day when she'd take him up on his offer. “I'd be happy to show you,” he growls, swiping his tongue over his lips. The smirk she offers him makes his shaft twitch underneath her core.

“Good.”

Her luminous eyes are practically glowing as he slides the curve of his hook along the inside of her thigh and up her toned, cream-colored stomach, trailing it toward the valley of her breasts. He slowly and teasingly circles one of her breasts with the curved steel, delighting in the way her nipples harden at the touch. When he reaches for her other breast with his hand, brushing his thumb over her nipple to feel the lovely, pliable flesh in his palm, she produces a delicious, skin-tingling moan and leans over him, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his neck, her tongue darting out to lick him, searing his skin like a branding iron. Heat pulsates through him as she unbuttons his shirt and pushes the fabric away so she can nip at his shoulders before kissing slowly down to his chest. He closes his eyes, sighing softly, enjoying the feel of her wicked lips on his skin as he cups the back of her head in his hand, entangling his fingers in her hair.

Needless to say, he doesn't need further convincing.

And it turns out he was right.

When she’s in his arms again, both of them panting and sated, he gazes into those soft emerald eyes. They no longer hold the sadness they did when he first laid eyes upon them. She looks content. She looks happy. He'd like to think it’s because of their tryst, but perhaps the sadness had slowly dissipated since the night he’d kidnapped her and took her aboard his ship.

Killian kisses her forehead and laces his fingers through hers, his heartbeat slowly abating as she lays her head on his chest.

To think, when he first saw her, he had been debating with himself about whether or not to carry out the Evil Queen’s orders and snuff the light from Emma’s eyes; now he has snuffed the sadness from them.

Many moons later the sadness is permanently gone from her eyes when she gazes upon their wee pirate. She cradles Liam in her arms while singing him lullabies her mother had sung to her when she was a young princess.

Killian’s heart warms at the sight and he presses a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads. Looking to the stars, he thanks each one for the precious gifts he doesn’t even deserve but loves with all his heart nevertheless.

He had once wished someone would save Emma from himself; who knew she’d save him? Who knew she'd help him find his way again? Now he only wishes to protect her and their son from everyone else.

#gingerchangeling #cssecretsanta2k19 #cs ff #cs secret santa #csss2k19 #captain swan #heed the warnings before reading!#dark!hook #pirate!killian #princess!emma #by the stars #my fic

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idesignedthefjords · 6 years ago

Text

RBB fic: Cupcakes and Magical Mishaps

For @rumbellebigbang . My beta is @avatoh. Thank you for putting up with my shit.

@galactic-pirates made the artwork and can be found here . Thank you so much for making it to ensure I still had art to go with my fic :) It’s really cute and it goes so well with the fic!

Summary: Belle's new baking hobby is halted when she runs out of a special ingredient and accidentally doses her sweets with a potion that the two of them end up ingesting.

AO3link

Rumplestiltskin looked outside the window of his tower and saw the Evil Queen riding away in her carriage. He hoped that she was ready to cast the Dark Curse soon, because he was starting to lose his temper with her.

It was all so much easier to get her to do what he wanted when she wasn’t the Evil Queen and just a girl trying to get rid of her mother, Cora. Oh well, he had only himself to blame for that, he thought.

The Evil Queen had learned well from him and became very skilled in finding someone’s weak point, a skill he possessed himself and she now knew his weak point was Belle. It was obvious to her and now becoming more obvious to him. Before her, The Dark Castle used to be Dark indeed. The curtains were always shut, and the smell of his magic was mixed with a musty and old smell. But with Belle’s arrival, there was a new smell in the castle. Hers, of course, she smelled sweet with a hint of roses. But also with Belle, there came the smell of fresh food being made. It was a hobby that surprised the both of them but certainly kept her busy. At first, it was mostly the scent of burned food, but lately the castle filled with the smell of sugar, cinnamon, fruit, and other delicious treats.

He sighed. He supposed the Evil Queen’s observation was right. But still, he would never admit to the fact that he was getting soft and he was starting to have a thing for his maid. Yes, he was still The Dark One, and her master, but part of him was also wishing that he was her lover as well. So instead of admitting to his feelings like a normal person, the situation had gotten to the point where Rumplestiltskin had to put an enchantment over the castle, to stop it from smelling so delicious and non-threatening. It was difficult to instill fear in the unfortunate souls looking for a deal when the castle smelled of freshly baked apple pie.

A few months ago, Belle would have blown up the kitchen if she ever attempted to bake something. When she first had attempted to bake simple shortbread biscuits, the kitchen filled up with smoke. She was close to tears as she took the cookies out of the oven, looking at the sweets that only resembled burnt sticks of wood when she was done with them.

Of course, Rumpelstiltskin had appeared in the kitchen; “Are you trying to set fire to my castle so you could kill the monster? Or are you creating a literal smokescreen so you can escape unseen? You promised forever, Dearie! ” He waved his hand and the smoke she had created from her baking disappeared.

Belle didn’t look at him. She refused to let him see her cry. “I know I promised forever! I was just trying to bake you some shortbread,” she cried out in frustration.

Rumpelstiltskin walked over to the oven and picked up one of the charred remains between his claws. “Ah I see, and are these the biscuits you wanted to make, or is this the wood you used to fire up the oven? I thought you lived here long enough to know you’re supposed to-” he stopped in the middle of his sentence. He was always mocking her cooking, but he decided she had enough for today. She was really trying her best to please him. A tear trailed on her cheek. He threw the biscuit (or what was left of it) back in the oven and walked over to her. He lifted her chin with his hand. “Belle, it was just a quip. I wasn’t serious. I know you don’t want to kill me. For some reason you are the only one who doesn’t want to kill this old monster, you strange girl.” He wiped the tear from her cheek. “Listen, if you really want to get better at cooking and baking, I can fill a section of the library with recipe books?”

Using books as a peace offering was always a good way to say sorry without actually having to say sorry and getting her to smile. He really loved her smiles.

“You would do that? Oh ,Rumple, I would love that!” Belle clapped her hands together in glee.

He waved his hand and Belle could feel the tingle of magic in the air. “There. Some cookbooks. But you know, you do have to follow the recipes. Cooking, and especially baking, is like making a potion. You have to measure the ingredients precisely, or the results can be disastrous,” Rumplestiltskin warned, vaguely gesturing towards the burned biscuits in the oven.

Belle ran up to him and hugged him “Thank you so much! I promise I will follow the recipes! You will be getting better food from now on!” She quickly let go of him when she noticed he was just standing there with his arms hanging besides his body. “Though… I think I will clean this mess up before l head to the library,” she stuttered.

“Yes... yes... that would be best. And, ehm,” he cleared his throat. “I will summon some food from the village for dinner. You’re a fast reader, but I don’t think we’ll be having a seven course dinner this evening yet,” Rumpelstiltskin replied. He looked like he didn’t know what to do for a moment and then he poofed away without the usual flourish of his hands.

Belle just smiled to herself and started cleaning the burned mess. She didn’t really know why, but she wanted to impress Rumpelstiltskin. Well, not just impress him, because he seemed impressed enough when she laughed at his jokes instead of running away crying. But she wanted to make him happy the way he made her happy. Because strangely enough, she was happy in the Dark Castle. Rumplestiltskin treated her with respect, unlike her former betrothed Gaston. He didn’t care for her, didn’t want to really know her like he did. Rumpelstiltskin was different, she could talk to him for hours about her favorite book and he would still be interested in what she had to say. She wanted to make Rumplestiltskin happy, and please him. Her cheeks burned when she thought of the other meaning of pleasing a man. She quickly opened some windows to let in some cool air. Not just so she could get rid of the burning smell in the kitchen, but to also to clear her head of any thoughts she had of pleasing Rumpelstiltskin.

It took Belle about 2 weeks to get through all the new cookbooks in her library. Now that she had actual recipes, she felt like making something edible would be an achievable goal. She was feeling more and more confident and during the weeks following and made quite a bit of progress. Rumpelstiltskin still sometimes teased her about her cooking skills, but it seemed like he was getting more and more impressed with her dishes as time went on. At least, that is what she assumed, seeing as he was too busy stuffing his face to make any comments. One of his favourites seemed to be the meat pie, so she made sure to make one at least 3 times a week, each time with a different meat. And of course, he had a sweet tooth as well so she made sure he had dessert every evening.

Rumpelstiltskin was kind enough to bring her ingredients from all over the realms, and new cookbooks with recipes on how to use them. She had made vanilla custard when he brought vanilla pods back from his travels to Agrabah, moon cakes filled with red bean paste from The Empire, lemon cake with poppy seeds from Oz (although he always seemed angry when he returned from that place), and he gave her a rose garden so she could make her own rose water. He claimed he just liked the smell of roses, and the taste of rosewater in her sweets.

Of course, that was his excuse, but Belle suspected he gave her the rose garden because they happened to be Belle’s favorite flower and he remembered her telling him this when she read a book about herbology. And maybe he remembered this fact about her because he liked her, she hoped. She liked him too. As a friend at first, but as time passed she got more feelings for him. She would often feel butterflies when he did something that would be mundane to others. The concentration on his face when he was spinning, the way he walked, the way he would look at her when she spoke about a story she had read in a book.

Or like the way he ate her food.

Oh yes, she really enjoyed watching him eat her food. The noises he made while eating sounded to her like a kitten eating. She thought Rumpelstiltskin had the cutest reaction to her serving dessert. He would do this wiggle in his chair and his eyes would go bigger. People always thought she was a strange girl, and she wondered just how strange she really was if she thought the feared Dark One was cute or comparing the sounds he made to a baby animal. It wasn’t just that he sounded cute, but the way he formed his mouth around the food, the way his tongue would slide over his lips to get every taste of the food she made, and she felt pride at that.

She wondered how his mouth would form over her, but then she quickly shook her head and focus on her own plate. She didn’t want to think about him like that too much. “It’s probably because we’re the only ones in this castle. It’s just him and me, forever. That would make anyone lonely and hungry for human contact,” she thought to herself. And yes, she really thought of him as human. She was convinced he was a man, not a monster as he called himself. A monster wouldn’t have given her a library, or a rose garden, or would think to bring her new and exotic ingredients.

After dinner, Belle would often retreat to the library and Rumplestiltskin would follow an hour later after he was finished with his work in the tower. He had eventually moved his spinning wheel to there as well. “It’s just that the light is better here in the library, Dearie!” he kept insisting. But Belle suspected it had more to do with him being lonely and seeking her company. Or perhaps because he really liked her, and she really hoped he liked her in the way she liked him; something beyond friendship.

-------------------------------

Like any other evening, Belle had retreated to the library and Rumplestiltskin was spinning his straw into gold. She had started a new book about the various holidays in other realms. This holiday was celebrated in several realms, and she had heard from it from her friend Anna. It was called Valentine’s Day, and on that day people would send each other cards, flowers, or gifts. It wasn't a holiday just for couples, but you could also send someone you were in love with an anonymous gift. Or you could send it to a friend, to express your appreciation for your friendship. Belle thought it was a lovely tradition. She wondered who she would send an anonymous gift to. She didn’t have any contact with her old friends, and she wasn't sure they would want to keep contact with here now that she was living with the Dark One. The Dark One, well, she considered him to be a friend now. It would be impossible to send him something anonymously, but she could always give him a gift. If he really liked it, maybe she would have a chance of becoming more than just friends. And if he didn’t...well, she didn't really want to think about that, then she could always tell him it was a gift to honor their new friendship. So all she had to do was think of the perfect gift and everything would be okay. Rumplestiltskin had a bit of a sweet tooth, of course, so she decided she would bake him a cake. A small cake. Or maybe cupcakes. She could bake them individually and if she messed up, she could always try a few more times. All she had to do was pay attention to the recipe. She had gotten so much better since her first attempts. Belle started searching her cookbooks for the perfect cupcakes until she came across raspberry rosewater cupcakes. That’s what she would make! He liked the taste of rosewater, and she had just picked fresh raspberries from the garden. It was perfect.

She started working on the cupcakes the very next day, carefully weighing all the ingredients listed in the book. She remembered Rumplestiltskin’s warning “Cooking, and especially baking, is like making a potion. You have to measure the ingredients precisely, or the results can be disastrous.”

She had placed all the ingredients in bowls on the kitchen table, and just needed one more ingredient: the rosewater. She searched the kitchen for a bottle but she couldn’t find any. Strange… normally there were several bottles of it, and now nothing. Then she remembered Rumplestiltskin would often raid the kitchen for ingredients for potions when he didn’t want to bother to get them from the village. She sighed, she had told him many times to just tell her when he took something out of her kitchen. But every time Rumplestiltskin had just giggled his impish laugh and reminded here whose kitchen this really was.

‘Two can play that game’, she thought, and she set out to his tower. If he could use the stock from the kitchen, then surely she could use his, right?

She opened the door carefully, peeking around the corner to make sure he wasn’t in there. She wasn't forbidden to go to the tower, it’s just that he alway became very nervous when she did. “Don’t touch anything! Watch out where you walk! This is dangerous magic!” he warned her. She smiled to herself, he was always so worried and protective of her. How different he acted towards other people. To them he truly was the Dark One, but with her, he was just Rumplestiltskin.

She searched the shelves behind the workbench for the rosewater. She had some difficulty reading the labels on the bottles, they were a bit dusty. With Rumplestiltskin fussing over her whenever she came in, she never had given the shelves a good dusting. Even when she wiped away the dust it was difficult to read. This wouldn’t do. She knew she had made fresh rosewater two weeks earlier so she set out looking for bottles without much dust on them. Finally she found it! She recognised the bottle shape, it didn’t have much dust on it, and it look like rosewater. She popped open the cork and carefully smelled the water. The familiar smell of roses reached her nose and she quickly popped the cork back in and went down to the kitchen.

She could finally start baking the cupcakes!

When Belle started to pour out the rosewater in her measuring cup, her mind kept wandering towards Rumple as she stuck a finger into the frosting and batter to taste test what she had made before putting it into the oven. She almost couldn't stop herself from eating the buttercream after she had made it; it was just so darn delicious today. She smiled, proud of her cooking.

After putting the cupcakes into the oven, Belle thought having freshly plucked rosebuds would make a lovely decoration for the cupcakes; and hopefully the fresh air would clear her head her bit. She went outside to the garden adjacent to the kitchen and went passed the fresh herbs that were growing there.

Rumple had magically planted those for her when she told him about the different herbs and spices being used in recipes from her cookbook. She smiled at the memory of him surprising her with yet another gift. He had led her blindfolded into the garden. A shiver went down her spine when she remembered him standing flush behind her, his hands warm on her shoulders, and his mouth close to her face when he whispered for her to remove her blindfold.

Suddenly, she was awaken from her daydream by a noise coming out of the kitchen. She instantly worried about her cupcakes. What is the oven had exploded ...again?! Just like it had when she had first started baking! All of her work for nothing! She ran towards the kitchen, but slowed down when she didn’t smell any burning and heard a familiar sound. The sound of Rumpelstiltskin eating! She could recognize that purring from anywhere!

Rumple had not spotted her yet so Belle quickly and quietly snuck back into the kitchen. He already got the cupcakes out of the oven and was now eating one with his back still turned to Belle. The bowl with buttercream was abandoned but she could see he had eaten quite a few spoonfulls of it. It was not enough to decorate the cupcakes anymore. Belle carefully picked up a wooden spoon from the table, sneaked up behind him, and smacked him on his bum cheek: “BUSTED!”

Rumplestiltskin yelped and turned around on the spot, his hands raised, ready to cast a spell. When he saw Belle, his face went from fear, to relief, to anger, then back to fear again when he noticed her expression. “Belle, I could have turned you into a snail! I might still do that actually, why did you hit me?”

Belle looked at him angrily, but with a hint of something else he didn’t recognize in her “You know how much work it is to make these cupcakes and you knew I tried to hide the buttercream but you still went ahead and ruined the surprise!” Belle smacked him again with the spoon.

“Ouch! Could you stop hitting me!? I’m sorry, okay, I was just hungry.. Are you forgetting who is master of this castle?! I will turn you into a fro-OUCH!” Belle didn’t let him finish his sentence.

“Now I hardly have any buttercream left!” Belle sulked. She stepped towards the bowl and when she reached for it, brushing Rumplestiltskin’s arm. She noticed just how close their faces were. “You ehm… have some buttercream right there...”, she reached for his lips and wiped a blob of buttercream from the corner of his mouth with her finger. She held her finger in front of his eyes, and before she could wipe it in her apron, Rumple took her finger into his mouth and sucked the sweet treat right off her finger.

Without breaking eye contact he thanked her “Thank you for that.” He licked his lips “You know, since you don’t have enough buttercream left to decorate the cupcakes, maybe I can eat the rest of it as well?”

Belle suddenly had an idea. Not to say she hadn’t had the idea before, but it just so happened to pop into her mind again due to her current situation. Her cheeks heated just thinking about it. Someone had to take the next step, and Rumple seemed to have taken the first one when he took her finger in his mouth. “Well, I could can decorate something else? And you do still look kind of hungry,” she suggested, hoping he caught the innuendo.

Rumplestiltskin saw something change in Belle’s eyes and gulped. “It seems I’m not the only one who is still hungry, my dear, but what exactly are you hungry for?” he asked. His voice sounded lower than usual and it re-awakened the butterflies in her stomach.

“Rumple. I-” Belle cut herself off. “I want you.”

“What?”

“I want you to do things to me. With the frosting,” Belle said, not quite believing her boldness in this moment. It felt good.

Rumplestiltskin lifted Belle up the kitchen table “Are you sure about this Belle?” he asked.

“Yes,“ Belle smiled and started to unbutton his shirt in reply. “I’ve been waiting for this for the longest time! I want more!”

Rumplestiltskin chuckled and started working on the laces of her dress, taking his time. Belle huffed in frustration and moved her hands wanting to speeds things up but Rumpelstiltskin pushed her hands away “No, I want to savor this moment. And you still can change your mind, Belle. Just tell me if you want to stop and I will stop,” he said softly.

Belle leaned forward, making their foreheads touch each other. “I know you will, and I trust you. But right now, I need you to hurry up!”

Rumplestiltskin carried on with the unlacing and still took his time, wanting to ensure he would remember every last detail. Once the dress was unlaced, he pushed it down her shoulders, caressing them, feeling her soft skin under his scaley, monstrous fingers. He paused for a moment to make eye contact with Belle, asking for silent permission. When she whispered,“Take me,” ever so softly in reply, he pushed the dress further down, exposing her breasts, shocked. As if he were in a dream.

His hands slid down from her shoulders to her breasts as he held them and showered them with kisses. He then grabbed the buttercream, earning him a questioning look from Belle, and smeared some of it on her neck, making a trail across her chest towards her breasts, slowly making circles on her nipples. He pushed her dress further down so it would fall to the floor, and he made another trail across her stomach, down to her inner thighs. Belle spread her legs as on instinct. Rumple giggled. “Such an impatient girl.” He licked his lips and slowly kissed her. Their kisses became more frantic, he was no longer holding back, addicted to the sensation already. Every time Belle tried to touch him to get closer to him, he pushed her hands away. Not yet. He still wanted to savor this. Her groans became more frustrated, and suddenly Rumpelstiltskin pulled away completely. Belle wanted to complain, but he already attacked her neck with kisses and licks; following the trail of buttercream he had laid out. The taste of both Belle and the buttercream combined was absolutely heavenly.

His tongue circled around her left nipple, driving Belle mad. Then he took it in his mouth and sucked the remaining cream off with a pop, surprising Belle with the sensation. She could no longer hold back the moan she’d been holding. He let out a low laugh, the moan music to his ears, and moved to her right nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other one. He trailed off to her stomach, wasting no time here as he sucked and licked the cream off her skin. He caressed her breasts, and got back on eye level again, his face suddenly serious. “Belle, are you absolutely sure about this?” He dragged circles on her budding nipples with his thumb, waiting for her reply.

“Yes, I’m sure, now, stop asking me that. It’s not fair to ask me this while you’re driving me mad!”

Rumple smiled and pinched her nipple, drawing out a moan. “Oh, that is a lovely sound,” he smirked. “I can’t wait to hear it again.”He smiled and lowered his head to kiss her breasts, trailing down her stomach, ending at her thighs. He carefully pushed her back on the table so she laid flat on her back and conjured a pillow out of thin air. “We should have done this in a more… comfortable setting, but I’m not sure we will make it, so I hope this is sufficient,” he explained. “But I want you now.”

Belle leaned back, raising her hips in hopes that he would understand what she wanted. “I just want you too, Rumple.”

He looked up and down her body as his hands followed. “Not so fast, sweetheart, I have to follow the trail first!”

Belle huffed out in frustration as his hands moved to her hips, holding her as he bent over between her legs. He lightly tickled her inner thighs with his hair, as he left kisses all over them while going further up, when eventually he reached the place in the middle. Belle felt his lips brushing over her curls, followed by the sensation of light little bites. She never thought getting bitten would feel so good.

He had already started to lick her outer lips, when he took her labia in his mouth and sucked on it. He pushed her legs further apart and with his hand he parted her curls and lips. Belle almost knocked the cupcakes off the table, feeling a moment of panic by being so exposed. It was just for a moment and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t even notice it. He pushed his tongue further in. The combination of his curls dancing between her legs, the feeling of his tongue lapping and the vibration of his moans against her almost made Belle come then and there.

Then, he suddenly stopped licking, looked up to her with a devilish smile and dove back down again, licking her clit like it’s the last thing he would ever taste. Just when she felt like it was becoming all too much, he carefully slid one finger in her and curled it so it hit a particular sensitive spot within her.

Belle felt a tingling warmth coming from her toes spreading all over her body and exploding behind her eyes. Rumpelstiltskin gave her a few moments to gather herself, but he didn’t take his finger out of her yet. Belle looked at him, puzzled and panting.

“You don’t think I’d let you get away with hitting me, did you?” he smirked. Her eyes grew big and Rumplestiltskin immediately worried that he had scared her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. You hurt me more with that spoon more than I will ever hurt you,” he reassured her. He lowered his head again and started lapping at her clit again, this time slower.. He also slowly worked another finger in her. She was relaxed and wet enough so it didn’t hurt, she just felt more full. He started moving his long fingers in a steady but fast rhythm inside of her.

Belle was still very sensitive after her orgasm and it felt too good. “Oh gods, Rumple, please, please- I can’t- oh gods-” she begged him, not really knowing if she wanted him to stop or not to ever stop. He laughed against her and the vibrations hit her clit, surprising her and she let out a scream.

“Oh, so you like that, don’t you?” he continued to hum against her. Belle almost started to panic because it was almost too much to handle. She felt the familiar feeling from before coming over her again, and this time it was much more intense. She was sure she screamed something, probably Rumple’s name, but she wasn’t sure. She felt his fingers being removed from her body, and she shivered.

Belle was feeling dizzy and her skin was still tingly and sensitive from the unfamiliar touches. Now it was suddenly over and she was left wanting more. More of his touch against her skin, more of him inside her, more of everything. She felt overwhelmed. Rumpelstiltskin picked her up and for a moment they were engulfed in a purple smoke. When the smoke cleared, she looked around and noticed they were standing in her bedroom.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled shyly, suddenly looking like he was unsure of what to make of everything. “I uhm- I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to my bedroom, but now I’m not sure I should have come to yours. I know it’s private, but I didn’t want to you to walk to your room. Your legs couldn’t probably hold you just yet. You are also all sticky from the buttercream, my dear. Why don’t you take a bath?” he suggested.

“But- what about you?” Belle asked. “You have given me pleasure, but what about you?” she caressed his cheek.

“You are here forever my dear, remember? There is enough time for me later. We don’t have to do everything in one night. Now, let me run that bath for you,” he replied.

After Belle washed all the stickiness of the buttercream and her own juices off her body, she dressed herself in her nightgown and braided her wet hair. When she walked out into her bedroom, she was happy to find Rumpelstiltskin still there, looking a bit awkward sitting in one of the chairs.

Belle walked over to him and sat on his lap, curling up against him with her head against his chest. Rumplestiltskin froze for a moment, not sure what to do with himself, and then soothingly rubbed her back. It all felt a bit awkward, now that they were out of the kitchen.

They had shared something intimate but that moment was over and now they both didn’t know what to do or say. And there was something bothering her. “Rumple… what just happened in the kitchen?” she started.

Rumplestiltskin snorted “Well, I’m sure you have read about it in one of your books”. Belle smacked his chest “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant that we- we normally don’t act like that with each other. I wanted to make those cupcakes Valentine’s Day, so I could show you how much you mean to me. But that it would end like this- well I hoped it would but it all happened a lot faster than I had planned.”

“Ah that,” he hesitated. “I might be able to explain. You see, I noticed you have been in my tower and there was a potion missing.”

“A potion?” Belle sat up with a jolt. She could have grabbed a dangerous potion! Who knows, she wasn’t able to read the label properly! She looked at Rumplestiltskin but he didn’t quite dare to look her in the eye. A realization hit her “Wait- Rumpelstiltskin, was that a love potion I used?! Do you deal for love potions?!” she cried out.

“It wasn’t exactly a love potion. Those don’t exist anyway, you can’t make someone love you. Lust potions however, do exist.” he explained. “But you didn’t use a lust potion either!” he added hastitly when he saw Belle’s face. “You accidently grabbed a potion that is a bit similar… a potion that takes away your inhibitions. It doesn’t make you do anything you didn't want to do in the first place. it just makes you a bit more- free to act upon your desires. So I guess, what you really desired… was me.” he looked smugly as he said this.

“Don’t give me that look, Rumple,”Belle replied “because I remember you eating from the buttercream too and you were a happy participant so I guess you desired me too!”

Rumple scoffed. This was true.

“But there will be a next time, right?” Belle asked, almost nervously. “This wasn't just-”

“Yes, Dearie. There will be a next time.” Rumple said as he kissed the top of her head. “Lots of times more, if you want.”

“Yes. I do. I really do,” she said as she snuggled back into him.

#rumbellebigbang #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #ouat

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smilesandstarlight · 6 years ago

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1x12 Skin Deep

11.12.18

Belle is clutching a book! Is her father a king?

No one decides my fate but me.

This makes me smile.

Please.

Girls night!

Whose house is this?

"I'm a difficult man to love."

Bad things happen to bad people. Is that a threat? Observation.

I'll put the curtains back up. There's no need. I'll get used to it.

LOL "I think you were lonely."

"So you were a man once." She seemed so proud!

Those were some nice moments between Rumbelle.

Is this the same cabin that Snowing stayed in?

LOL wtfudge was that exchange? The evil queen is so jaunty XD

You carry very little. I don't want to be slowed down. Oooh, you're running from someone. The question is: Master or lover?...Oh! Master AND lover. So if I'm right, you love your employer, but you're leaving him. I might love him. I mean I could love him, but something evil has taken root in him. Sounds like a curse to me. And all curses can be broken. A kiss born of true love would do it.

Wow that was very dramatic. Poor Belle.

What's the point in being together if you can't be together?

Wow I almost teared up with the proposal!!

You're a coward, Rumplestiltskin.

Lol Emma is having such fun taunting him

Regina's always so happy to corner him, then he says please and she looks like a reprimanded child.

She definitely knows. When did she wake up?

Poor Rumple, just trying to keep his face together.

I do like how familiar this is convo between Golden Queen is. The power play and banter between them is awesome.

#watching fairytales #ouat rewatch #ouat 1x12

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a-monthly-rumbelling · 6 years ago

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December Master List

Thanks to everyone that posted in December. You guys are fantastic! I hope you had fun with the prompts. Hopefully everyone should be able to find something they’ll enjoy from these amazing works. You can also find all previous works here. Happy reading!

Non-Smut: grasshopper, temple, robe, rain

Rumplestiltskin’s Final Battle: Dark Angels - by @darcyfarrow2005: Jo and Cerise work feverishly to find the three elements they need to free Gold from the Darkness: the Sorcerer’s hat, the Spell of Exorcism and the means to imprison the Darkness.

Memories of Confessions (Chapter Two) - by @nerdcafeolatra: A magical substance brings forth some memories Belle didn’t know she had.

Thankfulness - by @worryinglyinnocent: During their travels together with Gideon, Belle takes a moment to reflect on her life so far and give thanks for all of the wonderful moments that she’s shared with her family.

Non-Smut: grasshopper, temple, robe, rain - Art

Jedi Master Rum Gold and Jedi Knight Belle French prepare for battle - by @galactic-pirates.

Smut: Watching, bending, behind, lick, lingerie

How’s your Papa? - by @barpurplewrites: Gold and Belle talk while cuddled up in bed.

The Pretty Librarian - by @timelordthirteen: Mr. Gold goes to the library to return a book and something unexpected happens.

Patience is an Overrated Virtue - by @worryinglyinnocent: (WovenLace) Weaver is working late, and Lacey is bored. Naturally, she finds a way to entertain herself and to distract her lover in equal measure.

Calling Hours - by @itssandgirl: After her mother’s funeral Mr. Gold remains. She didn’t know what he wanted or why he was just sitting there across from her staring at her like that?

The Rabbit Hole Romp - by @itssandgirl: Unexpected hook-up at the Rabbit Hole.

Chapter 27 - by @itssandgirl: Belle French stood in the romance aisle in the library sneaking a peek at the new popular erotic book when she felt him leaning over her shoulder.glancing at the smutty book she was reading.

#a monthly rumbelling #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #rumbelle art #rumbelle smut #Master list #wovenlace

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imgilmoregirl · 6 years ago

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AO3 Link

Notes: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the delay with the chapter and the answer for you comments, but anxierty decided to show up again this week and I've been feeling sick and unable to do most things. However here we are again and I want to thank you all for all those kudos and for reading this fic all over again - or for the first time. Anyway, I'm sending virtual hugs to everyone.

Chapter Seven

Standing by the front door of the Dark Castle were four people, Rumplestiltskin, his lady Belle, a dark-haired woman, dressed in a purple gown, and a tiny boy around four-years-old that was asleep in her arms. Her jaw dropped when Belle showed up.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Rumple screamed angrily at his lover, but in his eyes, the fear for her life was clear.

“Let her stay.” The former maid repeated. “She only wants to keep her son safe.”

“Belle, this woman is the Evil Queen.”

A smirk formed on the woman’s lips. “As I’m no longer a queen, I prefer to be called Regina, if you don’t mind, dearie.” She said and then turned to Belle. "But, thank you, it's good to know that there are still people with a heart around here."

"Was that supposed to be a pun? Because it wasn't funny.” Rumplestiltskin replied in a very impish voice. “And she shouldn't be here, since I, her master, commanded her to stay in her chambers."

Regina laughed out loud. "Her master? You're clearly more than that, Rumple. The girl is with child."

"No one said that her bastard is mine. She is only a maid, a very inconvenient maid." Rumple said with a roll of his reptilian eyes.

That hit her hard, as if he had stabbed her with a sword. She couldn’t believe his words, he was not just calling out the fact that her child was illegitimate, but was also disowning it. Her hands pressed against her stomach, tears starting to stream down her cheeks.

Glancing at her, Rumple raised his hands to touch her, but let them fall down to his sides. "Belle, don't - " he started to say, looking a little desperate, before snapping at the other woman: "See what you've done? Get the hell out of my castle, Regina!"

Belle shook her head. "No, she stays. She can be in the dungeons with me if you'd like, master, but I can't let her leave to watch her son die." Wiping her tears, the former maid gesticulated for Regina to get inside the castle. "Come with me."

"You're disobeying me, you insolate girl.” Rumplestiltskin stormed. “This woman could kill you and your child quicker than you can blink."

"But she wouldn't,” She assured, giving a look to Regina, that she considered to be her most intimidating one. “Not when I'm going to save her son's life."

"Yeah, she's right. Today I'm not a threat, just a worried mother."

Taking a deep breath, the imp grabbed the dark-haired woman’s arm tightly. "Listen to me, if you try to do anything, I will kill you in as painful a way as possible."

"Understood." She said, impatiently with a nod.

Waving a hand, the former maid spoke: "Come on. I'll lead you to the dungeons and then get the potions your boy needs."

"Thank you, Belle."

They went down the stairs, were the dungeons were set and she looked for the better one, which had been her room for some time when she arrived the Dark Castle. It wouldn’t be great like proper chambers, but it was the best that she could offer.

Opening the door, she let Regina enter it. "You can lay him on that bed,” Belle said. “It's not exactly comfortable but I doubt Rumple would let me take you to one of the guestrooms."

"This is fine."

"I'm going to get the potions."

Her heart was still aching and she wasn’t crying because she didn’t want Regina to see how affected she was. And Belle wanted to help that poor boy with that terrible fever, so she moved through the castle and went to the tower where Rumplestiltskin’s potion laboratory was, to get what she needed.

She refused to let her hand leave her belly. The feel of her child moving inside her, the only thing that really kept her from falling apart as she pushed the door open to find the imp pouring a glass of what she believed to be wine. Trying to ignore him, she moved directly to the potions’ table.

"Belle." He called.

She kept searching for what she needed, uncertain of what were the right ones.

"Don't you dare speak to me."

"Sweetheart, please - "

Turning around, she gave him a disgusted look, the tears immediately coming to her eyes. "You know, I could have taken all the things you said about me in front of that woman, but you called our baby a bastard. You disowned your own child!"

"I - I had to.” He defended himself. “This is the Evil Queen, Belle! She needed to believe that I don't care for you and the baby, or who knows what she would do to you!"

"She's smarter than that. You can't fool someone like her and you know it, so yes, you’ve hurt me for nothing."

He breathed in, pitching his temples in a stressed movement. "You should have stayed in the nursery, so we would never have had this argument."

Belle held up her hand, too angry to continue in the same room as him. "Give me the potions, Rumplestiltskin."

With a sigh, he crossed the laboratory, walking towards the potions’ table to grab the right liquids for her, putting two small bottles in her hand, closing her fingers around it and let her leave, going straight back to the dungeons.

The little boy was laid on the bed, with Regina by his side, stroking his dark brown hair. Belle smiled at the scene and held the bottle out to the former Evil Queen. "Here make him drink this. It's for the fever."

Regina nodded, grabbing the bottle and opening the lid, shaking the boy’s shoulder. "Henry, wake up."

His eyelids trembled before opening and he coughed. "Mom - "

"It's alright, we are safe. Drink this." Regina said with a soft smile, lifting the bottle to his lips, until he had drunk every last drop of it. "Good boy, you can go back to sleep now, I'll be watching over you."

Henry didn’t even argue, before she could finish her sentence, his eyes had already closed again and he was leaning into the pillow. Belle always had a soft spot for children, but now that she was pregnant, her affection for them had grown bigger, making a huge smile impossible not to appear on her lips.

"Your son is really cute." She said.

"Thank you.” Regina replied with an equally big smile. “He is everything I have."

"Where is the father?"

"I don't know. I never met him." When Belle raised an eyebrow in surprise she felt compelled to explain: "Oh, Henry is my adoptive son, but he is actually Princess Emma's boy."

Her eyes widened. Belle was a highborn lady and had the chance of knowing a lot of royal people. Emma was some years older than her and was one of the most loved princess in their realm, as she was the daughter of the one’s who had freed the land of the Evil Queen, who was now sitting right in front of her, not looking very evil.

"Princess Emma? Snow White's daughter?” She questioned. “I thought you and Snow hated each other."

"Believe me, we do. It was her soldiers that were chasing me, after seeing that I wasn’t as banished as they wished."

Belle’s gaze fell down to the boy, soundly asleep, unaware of their talk. "And why is Henry with you, and not them?"

"Some years ago, Princess Emma had a torrid affair with a thief she met on the roads during one of her trips. Henry was the result, but she wasn't married and didn't wanted her parents to have to deal with the scandal her pregnancy would cause, so she spent some months hidden with me, while they thought she was visiting a friend in Arendelle. When he was born, I took him as my son and every year I bring him here to see his other mom."

"That is very sweet of you."

Regina sighed. "I do it for Henry."

Questions kept burning inside of Belle’s head and they were too tempting for her to ignore. "How did you come to help the princess when you hate her mother?"

"I was her secret mentor. Princess Emma has magic and when she was younger she looked for me and asked me to teach her without her parents knowing. First, I did it to have something to bother Snow and Charming, but then, we actually became friends."

By the way her voice was soft when she talked about the princess, Belle believe it to be true. Although memories from her childhood, where the maids in her father’s castle couldn’t help, but spread lots of gossip about the Evil Queen and the Charming’s came to her mind, alerting her to the fact that Regina was already a married woman when she was only a little girl.

"I'm sorry if it is rude to ask, but is it magic that is keeping you young? I believe you should be older than Snow."

"You are right in both things. Spells can be quiet incredible in some matters." Regina said in an arrogant way, but stopped when Belle gasped, gripping at the base of her belly and leaning a hand to the wall, to keep herself from falling. "What is it?"

She took a moment to answer, wanting to be sure that blood wouldn’t drip from her again and the pain wouldn’t return. When neither of those things happened, Belle sighed in relief, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, soft fingers smoothing her baby bump.

"Nothing.” The young lady finally managed to say. “I shouldn't be out of bed, I almost had a miscarriage in the beginning of the week, I guess this pain came to remind me of that."

Regina’s hand came closer to her, as she asked for permission to touch her belly with a questionable look. She nodded, letting the other woman place her palm on it, feeling the baby kick right on the spot that she pressed.

"Belle has Rumplestiltskin forced you into his bed?” She asked in a serious tone, her dark eyes, really showing concern. “Is he hurting you?"

"What? No, he never did such a thing."

"But you slept with him.” Regina pointed out. “I can feel the magic in this baby."

Belle’s mouth fell open. "My - my child has magic?"

"Powerful magic."

"Oh, gods." A tear rolled down her face as new fears started to haunt her.

Until now she hadn’t considered that her baby could have inherited this from its father, but she had been a fool to not see that one coming. Rumplestiltskin was a powerful sorcerer, of course any child of his would have magic, she didn’t know why she was crying over it, until she realized she wasn’t. Her baby was going to be fine, because he would be here to teach it to only use it’s gifts for good, but her heart, otherwise, was broken.

"Hey, you don't have to worry, this isn't a bad thing at all."

"I know, I am just sad about something else."

Giving her an incisive glance, Regina asked: "What Rumple said to me earlier? He was just being a jerk, like usual, but he was also trying to protect you."

"Yeah, I know."

The woman pulled her hand away from Belle, adjusting her sitting position, while seeming to be lost in thoughts. "I think you should go sleep somewhere more comfortable than these dungeons."

"Will you be alright alone here?"

"Sure, I have my Henry to look after."

Standing up, Belle offered her the other bottle she was still holding. "Give him this potion if the fever returns."

"Sure.” Regina said, taking the bottle from her and taking an attentive look at it. “I'm very grateful."

She smiled for her one last time before leaving the dungeons and making her way to her chambers, knowing that she would have to face Rumple now. Belle calmed herself the best she could, before pushing the door open to find him sitting on their bed, wearing nothing but a long nightshirt. Closing the door again, she leaned against it, ready to confront her lover.

"Did you know that my baby has magic?"

"Yes." He answered, coldly.

"And didn't you consider telling me? The mother?"

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "I only found it out today, when we felt it kicking."

"Right."

Turning her back to him, she went to the closet and unlaced her dress, taking it off and putting on a nightgown, before coming back and laying under the covers of the bed by his side, her back turned to him in a clear move that showed she didn’t wanted to talk anymore.

He moved on his side, following her example and laying down before letting a hand stroke her bare arm gently. "I'm sorry for what I said, Belle. I didn't mean to hurt you."

The hand continued to make its way over her body, traveling to the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up as his fingers found their way to her inner thighs, starting to rub her core. Belle closed her legs more tightly when she realised what he was doing, making Rumple pull away.

"No.” She said, firmly. “Not today."

"You never rejected my touch."

"And I'm not rejecting it now, I'm just saying that today I'm too angry with you to do this."

"Belle, sweetheart, look at me.” He begged and even with her aching heart, she couldn’t ignore him, when he sounded so human and desperate like that, so she rolled to the other side, facing him. “I am truly sorry and I will never disown our child again."

Her lower lip trembled. "You called it a bastard. That made me feel like a whore."

"Oh, Belle - "

"And at this moment I hate how much I love you, how much I need you and how I'm eager for your touch."

She locked their lips together in the most awkward and messy kiss they had ever shared. Belle was crying, angry, sad and, more than anything, she was in love with him and no matter how badly he hurt her, she was always going to want him.

They started making out without saying another thing, just letting their gasps and groans fill the silence of the night until they joined bodies as one, desiring the other as much as they did on any other day. What really got Belle surprised, however was that when Rumplestiltskin lifted his face from her neck, still thrusting inside her, she saw that he had tears in his eyes.

“Sorry, Belle.” He said, breathless. “You gave me your heart and all I ever do is to break it.”

“I’m yours -” she said, with a moan. “It is never going to change, but I would appreciate it if you try not to break my heart so often.”

A groan left him and their little talk was left aside by the burning feeling of their bodies moving together to lead them to release.

…

The moonlight that entered the room through the open window, illuminated Belle's peaceful sleeping face beautifully. Rumplestiltskin got dressed, observing her all the time, cursing himself for hurting such an angelic thing like her.

He bent to press a kiss to her lips softly before doing the same thing to her swollen belly, covered by the thin sheets, mentally asking his child for forgiveness for the mistake he had committed that night. He would never ever disown that baby again, it was too precious to him. Belle and his child were Rumplestiltskin's chance of happiness and he would take care of his family at any cost.

He snuck out of their chambers and went down stairs, sensing the wakened presence of Regina out of the dungeons. When he reached the dining hall, he found her sitting by the table with a piece of pie in front of her.

"The agreement was for you to stay where you were told to. My dungeons."

She raised an eyebrow, turning the fork around on her fingers. "Well, I didn't make any agreement with you, but with that lovely lady you defiled and I'm sure that someone so kind as her wouldn't deny me a piece of apple pie."

"You are playing a very dangerous game, dearie."

Eating one more piece of her pie, she put the fork down, before speaking: "I still can't believe that you made a child with her."

Slowly walking towards her, Rumplestiltskin held up a hand and Regina began to cough for air, feeling an invisible force pressing her throat.

"Listen to me, you will never speak of what you saw inside this castle. You will pretend you don't know Belle is living here and that she carries a baby, do you understand?"

Weakly nodding she breathed in all the air she could when the pressure was gone, glancing at Rumple with rage.

"You can try keeping your child a secret, but out there everybody talks about Belle. They know you got her from a deal and they have a good idea of what you are doing to her this whole time. She has been called the Dark One's whore."

"Don't you ever call her that again!" He stormed. "Belle is the lady of this castle, she is a respectable, kind woman and I don't care for what the rumours say."

"Good for her that she's never going to get out of here, because this reputation you're defending is gone. She gave herself to you and as good-hearted as she can be, nobody will ever look at her the same way they did before, especially now that she has a bastard in her womb."

"My child is not a bastard."

"It was you who said so, Rumple." And let's face it, no matter how many times you make your maid moan your name, you will never make her your wife." She said with a daring smile.

Rumplestiltskin was losing his nerves with her, in that moment he really wished to fulfil his threats and kill the woman, but for the sake of everything he had with Belle, the only thing he did was to approach Regina and cruelly say: "Yes, like no matter how many times Henry calls you mom, it won't make you his real mother."

The dark-haired woman stood up.

"Goodnight, Dark One and thank you for having me as your guest. I'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #mine #writing #belle french #rumplestiltskin #ao3 #fanfic

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a-winterprince-blog · 7 years ago

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Family Ties (12/15)

Summary: Not long after receiving a strange warning in a dream, Killian finds himself forced to go to Camelot and deal with a long forgotten enemy. The heroes follow to aid him, but soon they are pulled into a net of family secrets and intrigues, with a foe who seems to bring back the dead. Killian is reunited with his family, but can he trust them? Rating: Mature Content Warning: Mention of rape and minor character death. Corresponding chapters will be marked accordingly.

As always, a huge thank you goes out to my wonderful beta @onceuponadisneypotter (AO3) and my two amazing artists:@thisisartyannaand @captainodonoghue! You can find the story on ff.net, as well.

Emma didn't know how Morgause found them. Somehow, she'd been waiting for them, calmly humming a tune and smiling when they came around the corner.

She was too strong. She'd known that since she'd fought her over Calie's crib, but now it became even more apparent. Emma was prepared for her attacks, she managed to avert most of them, and yet it seemed impossible to hit her back.

She told Henry and Kara to hide behind her. Milah hovered under a tree after having been smashed into it. Still weakened from her imprisonment, she couldn't get back up. And without magic, what could she do?

Emma started to feel like there was nothing she could do, either, despite her powers. The only thing she seemed to manage was to buy time, but for what? Who would help them? Gold didn't seem too engaged in the fight, and since Morgause seemed to want Kara, she didn't bother with him, either. So what was she stalling for?

"Get away from my daughter!" suddenly someone yelled.

Morgana was there, and Killian. They had appeared out of thin air, and now Morgause was looking at them.

"We just keep running into each other, don't we, dear sister?" she said.

"I know what you're planning," Morgana hissed. "You're not getting my daughter!"

"Mother?" Kara asked incredulously.

A second later, they were standing in the hall of a house she'd never seen before. Morgause was still there.

"Oh, it's been ages since I last saw this place," she said. "Thank you, dear sister, for taking me here."

"Leave," Morgana hissed, striking her with her magic.

Morgause tumbled a little. "Oh, you surprised me there. Good work!"

"You are not welcome here," a cold voice suddenly said.

Emma turned around to see the source. A petite woman was standing in the doorway, her face stern.

Morgause's smile faded.

"Mother," she said.

The woman took another step toward her. Morgause disappeared. The woman looked at Morgana now, who failed to meet her eyes.

"I had no choice," she said through gritted teeth.

It suddenly occurred to Emma that this must be Nimue, the Lady of the Lake and Killian's grandmother. The resemblance between Morgana and her mother was clear, even though Morgana's face was somewhat sharper around the edges.

Nimue looked very small and fragile, but something about her posture clearly said the opposite.

"You let her in here," Nimue said, her voice trembling with anger. "Now she can come whenever she pleases!"

"My daughter was in danger. I couldn't just watch!" Morgana said through gritted teeth.

"This is why you will never be Lady of the Lake!" Nimue spat. "Power, love and wisdom, Morgana, how many times do I need to repeat that? One without the other two will only bring you grief. You let yourself be blinded by love again, as always."

With a look of utter disgust on her face, she turned around, walking away.

Morgana followed her with her gaze, eyes sparkling with anger. Her hands were clutched into fists and trembled by her side, and Emma almost expected the wall in front of them to light up in flames. Something about the look in her eyes reminded Emma of something, but she couldn't put a finger on it.

"Mother!" Kara said, and immediately her face relaxed.

"Kara!" she whispered, hugging her daughter tightly.

"Kara?" Killian mumbled, and the girl turned to hug him with her other arm.

"Hello, little brother," she teased. "You're so big now!"

"Ey, watch it!" he responded, but Emma could see that he was thrilled to have both of them back.

Next to her, Milah quietly groaned. Killian looked up, only now seeing her.

His face went from surprise to disbelief and joy, and finally confusion within seconds.

"Milah?" he whispered, hurrying to her and kneeling by her side.

"We found her in a cell," Emma explained, nervously licking her lips. "Morgause must've kept her there for a long time."

Killian nodded, feeling her pulse.

"She's so thin. Didn't she get anything to eat?" he asked.

"Is she hurt?" Morgana asked, coming up to her other side.

She quickly waved her hand over Milah’s body, making all the tiny scratches and wounds disappear.

"She needs to rest. And eat," she declared. "But she should be alright."

Killian picked her up bridal style and carried her to a bed in the nearby room. Emma felt as if her heart had just been pierced by an icy shard. So this was it. She should have known. After all, he'd spent two hundred years grieving for Milah. Compared to that, the time he'd known her seemed so insignificant.

Killian covered his former lover with a blanket, eyes still fixed on her face.

"How is this possible?" he asked, half turning to Emma. "She was dead! Rumplestiltskin killed her!"

"Yeah, he didn't know, either," Emma said, turning to leave.

"Swan, wait." Killian caught her arm.

She raised an eyebrow, mentally bracing herself. Would he tell her straight away that he preferred Milah over her, or would he give her some lame excuse about needing time to figure it out?

"I'm glad you're ok," he said, hugging her.

She held him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Killian searched her face for something, but if he found it, he didn't say. Instead, he kissed her, brushing his thumb over her cheek and still holding her closely.

"I should go tell my parents I'm back," she said when he broke away, not giving him the time to say anything else.

“Rumple!” Milah shouted. She was standing in front of his door, well-rested and fed. Magic was, after all, a wondrous cure. “I know you’re in there! Come out!”

Her ex-husband slowly emerged, leaning on his cane.

“Stop screaming, you’re going to wake the baby”, he said, closing the door behind himself and leading them both a little further up the hallway, away from the room where his wife and child were still sleeping. She searched his face for any kind of remorse, but she couldn’t find it.

“You did this, didn’t you?” she asked. “You told Morgause where we were headed. You could’ve gotten us all killed!”

Gold sighed, looking around. “Why would you assume that?”

“How else would she have found out? She couldn’t have known that was the new entrance to Avalon, Nimue moved it after she kicked her out. I asked her.”

He gave her a cold smile. “Well, perhaps she knows her mother too well. Or she secretly followed us from the cave. There are so many possible explanations.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play games with me, Rumple. You might be able to fool them, but you can’t fool me. I’ve known you longer than anyone of them. I’ve known you when you were nothing but the town coward. If you betrayed us, that means there was something in it for you. What is it? A way back home?”

He looked at her for a while, his jaw clenching and unclenching restlessly.

“Do you regret having left Bae?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Milah asked, taken aback by the question.

“Our son. Do you regret it?”

“Yes”, she whispered. “Of course I do!”

“What would you give to be able to tell him that? To look into his eyes, and maybe even see forgiveness there? After all, he forgave me, so anything is possible.”

“What are you talking about, Rumple? Baelfire is dead!”

“Yes. So were you. Until Morgause brought you back.”

Milah was quiet for a moment. She inhaled deeply.

“You made a deal with Morgause, didn’t you? You betrayed us to bring back Bae.”

“I killed you and yet here you are. In all my years as The Dark One, the one thing I could never do was bring back the dead. Really bring them back. She did it. Imagine what that would be like! We could get our son back!”

“At what price?”

“Sacrifices must be made. If you really regret what you did, if you really want to redeem yourself, help me get him back!”

“Don’t speak like you’re the master of redemption, Rumple! You’re lying to everyone, including your wife, you’re betraying your friends! And what about Henry? He’s Baelfire’s son!” Milah inhaled deeply. “Bringing him back would be selfish, and that is exactly what I don’t want to be anymore. I’m sorry Rumple, but don’t count on my help. Wait until the others hear of this.”

She turned around to head back to the hall as quickly as possible, but suddenly Rumple appeared before her. His cane was gone. In his hand he was holding his dagger.

Milah’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked, trying to sound calm. “Kill me? Again?”

“It’s nothing personal,” he said with a smile. “Well, maybe a little. Consider this the first sacrifice.”

Milah took a step back, but she already felt her windpipe tighten. Her hand went to her throat as she tried to breathe, sinking to her knees. Her vision got blurry as she still tried to inhale air.

“Stop!” someone shouted, and she could instantly breathe again. Coughing, she turned around. Belle was standing in the hallway, holding her child.

Rumple lowered his dagger.

“Belle…” he whispered.

“Let her go!” his wife demanded.

Rumple seemed to catch himself.

“Belle, I know you want to see the good in everyone, but she really deserves this…”

“This isn’t about her.” Belle’s usually kind voice cut through the air like a whip. “You lied to me, Rumple. Again. I heard everything. So you want to make sacrifices? Kill the people who trust you, despite everything you’ve done to them? Do you really think Neal would want that? All this time you blinded me. I hoped our daughter would finally make you the man you promised to be.”

Tears streamed down her face, but her voice never shook.

“I’m done with hoping and believing. You clearly think I’m stupid and you can go behind my back without me noticing! Not anymore. I don’t want to see you again until you’re willing to prove that you’ve changed. Go.”

Rumple stepped back.

“Belle, I’ll show you, I promise! I’ll change!”

“I don’t care about words anymore, Rumple! You’ve lied so many times, why would I believe you now? If I had the dagger, I would command you to go. I don’t, but I swear if you don’t leave now you’ve lost me forever. I’m sick of this!”

“Belle…,” Rumple whispered, but she shook her head.

“Go!”

He gave her one last pained look before slowly waving his hand and disappearing in purple mist.

Belle fell to her knees, clutching her daughter to her chest and silently crying. Milah hesitated for a moment, then she sat down next to her.

“I’m sorry”, she said.

“You hate him!” Belle whispered.

“I didn’t say I was sorry for him. I’m sorry for you. As wonderful as love can be, it also causes us the most pain.”

“Do you feel that way when you see Killian with Emma?” Belle suddenly asked.

Milah didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get too personal.”

“It’s ok”, Milah said. “I’m… glad he’s happy. It’s bad enough that he wasted two hundred years trying to avenge me. Emma helped him out of the darkness, and I’m grateful for that. Sometimes I just wish he’d remember that for me, it wasn’t two hundred years. One moment we sailed the world together and it felt like nothing could ever stop us. And then suddenly that was… gone.”

“You must’ve... must really love him. You left Rumple and Neal… Baelfire for him.”

“I should’ve never left my son, I know that. I can’t change it.”

“But you would leave Rumple. Why did you marry him when you didn’t love him?”

“It was complicated.”

Belle nodded, wiping away her tears as good as she could with a child in her arms.

“I just… I just want to know what he was like then. If he was different. I keep believing that he can change, that he is a good man who was corrupted by power. But sometimes I doubt if there is a good version of himself that he can go back to. I mean, I know there is goodness in him, I’ve seen it, but that doesn’t mean that he ever lived out that side.”

Milah sighed.

“He was a good man. A coward, but still good. It was an arranged marriage. It was the perfect match, both of us weren’t likely to find someone else to marry. My mother died early, drank herself to death. My father more or less raised me alone. He was afraid I would die an old maiden because no one wanted to marry me.”

“Why not?”

Milah laughed.

“I was always known as the girl who rather spent her time in the forest than at home, learning how to knit. Who dreamed of adventures and fighting, and not sitting at home and washing my husband’s clothes. I turned down the first few men who proposed to me. I didn’t want to marry young and waste my youth in prison, what I thought marriage would be. I wanted to be free. At first my father encouraged me because he thought it would pass, but it didn’t. I was nineteen when I married Rumple, in my time, that was old for a woman. He was a lot older than me. No one wanted to marry him because he was poor, and because his father had been a coward, so people thought he was, too. Turned out they were right.”

“Did you always hate him so much?” Belle asked quietly.

Milah shook her head.

“No, I… I wanted to love him. I tried. But it didn’t work out.”

She hesitated. “There was a war. The first ogres war, a long time ago.”

Belle nodded. “He injured himself to survive, he told me. Is that why you couldn’t love him? Because he was a coward?”

“No. I somehow always knew he was a coward. I wasn’t thrilled, but that’s who he was. I was disappointed, because he had to go and prove to everyone how brave he was, even though he wasn’t. Those people pushed and teased him every day, they didn’t care about him either way, and he wanted to make them happy. I believed in him, but that wasn’t enough for him.”

She slightly shook her head, recounting events that seemed to have happened several lifetimes ago.

“Of course, he had to go and make things worse. As soon as the first rumors reached us, they started making fun of me, too. Every day they reminded me of what my husband did, and how heroically theirs died. When I gave birth, no one wanted to help me. They said a coward’s son wasn’t worth the food he ate, and if I had any common sense I would kill us both. And when Rumple came back, he couldn’t even admit it. He pretended like he did the honorable thing, or the right thing. And he couldn’t change it, either. I asked him, I begged him to leave town so many times, to start over, but he didn’t want to.”

Milah licked her lips. She’d talked more than she intended. Belle sat next to her, still listening.

“But those were different times,” she didn’t added. “I saw how he looked at you. As much as I can’t stand him… if he’s going to change, it will be for you and your daughter.”

#csbb #csbb 2017 #captain swan big bang #Captain Swan #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #ff #family ties

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swanqueeneverafter · 7 years ago

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10. Skin Deep, Pt.3

Storybrooke. (At the sheriff’s department, Emma has Mr. Gold's stolen items strewn all over her desk.) Emma: “You're welcome. You're right. Your man Moe ripped you off. It was all still at his place.” Mr. Gold: “And the man himself?” Emma: (Sits at her desk:) “Closing in on him.” Mr. Gold: “So, job well half-done, then.” Emma: “In less than a day, I got it all back. Is something wrong?” Mr. Gold: “You've recovered nothing. There's something missing.” (Walks away.) Emma: “I'll get it when I find him.” Mr. Gold: “Not if I find him first.” The Enchanted Forest. Rumplestiltskin's castle. Past. Belle: “Why did you want me here?” Rumplestiltskin: “The place was filthy.” Belle: “I think you were lonely. I mean, any man would be lonely.” Rumplestiltskin: “I'm not a man.” Belle: “So, I've had a couple of months to look around, you know. And, uh, upstairs, there's, uh, clothing, small, as if for a-a child? Was it yours or... or was there a son?” Rumplestiltskin: “There was. There was a son. I lost him, as I did his mother.” Belle: “I'm... I'm sorry. So you... you were a man, once. An ordinary man. If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life, can't I at least know you?” Rumplestiltskin: “Perhaps... perhaps you just want to learn the monster's weaknesses! Nyah, Nyah! Nuh, nuh nuh!” Belle: (Smiles:) “You're not a monster. You think you're uglier than you are, that's why you cover all the mirrors up, isn't it? Hmm?” (There is a banging at the door, Rumplestiltskin opens it. Gaston is standing outside.)

Gaston: “I am Sir Gaston, and you, beast, have taken--” (Rumplestiltskin promptly clicks his fingers and turns him into a rose and closes the door.) Belle: (Walks over to him:) “Who was that?” Rumplestiltskin: “Just an old woman selling flowers. (He extends the rose to her:) Here. If you'll have it.” Belle: “Why, thank you.” (They bow to each other playfully. She crosses the room. As the conversation goes on, she takes a pair of scissors to trims the rose, put it in the vase, and sets it on the table.) Rumplestiltskin: “You had a life, Belle. Before... this—friends... family. What made you choose to come here with me?” (Takes a seat.) Belle: “Heroism. Sacrifice. You know, there aren't a lot of opportunities in this land for women to show what they can do. To see the world, to be heroes. So, when you arrived, that was my chance. I always wanted to be brave. I figured, do the brave thing, and bravery would follow.” Rumplestiltskin: “And is it everything you hoped?” Belle: “Well, uh... I did want to see the world. That part didn't really work out. But, I did save my village.” Rumplestiltskin: “And what about your... betrothed?” Belle: “It was an arranged marriage. Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston. To me love is—love is layered. Love is a mystery to be uncovered. Yeah, I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as he. But, um, you were going to tell me about your son.” Rumplestiltskin: “I'll tell you what... I'll make you a deal. Go to town, and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale.” Belle: “But... town? You trust me to come back?” Rumplestiltskin: “Oh, no. I expect I'll never see you again.”

Storybrooke. The Rabbit Hole. (For their girls' night out, Ashley, Mary Margaret and Ruby are seated at a bar table drinking. Ashley and Ruby down shots.) Mary Margaret: “Pace yourself, Ashley.” Ashley: “I am! This is my first night out since I've had the baby, I am making up for lost time.” (She downs another shot.) Ruby: (Looking at some guys across the bar:) “Ooh, Ash, check out those guys.” Ashley: “Oh, honey, I'm still with Sean.” Ruby: “You're not married, and he's not here.” Ashley: “He's working.” Ruby: “He's always working. Have fun moping!” (She takes her drink and walks over to the guys.) Ashley: “She's right. He is always working. I thought love would be different.” Mary Margaret: “Me, too.” (She sips her drink.) Storybrooke. The Dark Star Pharmacy. (David picks out two Valentine's Day cards and gets on line behind Mr. Gold. At the counter, Mr. Clark is helping the customer in front of Mr. Gold ring up some items. The older man notices him and starts a conversation.) Mr. Gold: “Two Valentine's. Sounds like a complicated life.” David: “Oh, no, I-I just couldn't decide.” Mr. Gold: “These are both for the same woman?” David: “Well; they're both so... us.” Mr. Gold:“ I see. Well, you fortunate you have someone that loves you.” David: “I really am.” Mr. Gold: “Love. It's like a delicate flame. And once it's gone, it's gone forever. Best of luck to you.” (Mr. Gold exits.) David: “Thanks. (Mr. Clark sneezes:) Bless you.” Mr. Clark: “Thanks.” Storybrooke. (On the streets, Mr. Gold is driving Moe's truck. In the back, Moe is gagged and tied up. They arrive at an abandoned cabin in the woods. Mr. Gold, with a pistol, opens the back of the truck and Moe slowly climbs out, tied up.) Mr. Gold: “Walk. (They entering the cabin. Moe turns and Mr. Gold cocks his gun, pointing it at him:) Now, you see, here's the thing—I don't normally let people get away.” (He closes the door.)

(The Enchanted Forest. On the road towards town to fetch straw, Belle walks there with an empty basket. A carriage approaches and stops next to her. The Evil Queen peers out to see Belle.) Evil Queen: “Did my carriage splash you?” Belle: “Oh. Oh, no, I'm- I'm fine.” Evil Queen: “You know, I'm tired of riding. Let me stretch my legs and walk with you for a spell. (The scene shifts to the Queen and Belle walking along the road as the carriage follows them from behind:) You carry very little.” Belle: “I don't want to be slowed down.” Evil Queen: “Mm. You're running from someone. (Laughs:) The question is, master or lover? (Belle silently looks at her:) Oh. Master and lover.” Belle: “I might take a rest. You—you go on ahead.” Evil Queen: (Wraps her arm around Belle and they continue walking:) “So, if I'm right, you love your employer, but you're leaving him.” Belle: “I might love him. I mean, I could, except... something evil has taken root in him.” Evil Queen: “Sounds like a curse to me, and all curses can be broken. A kiss born of true love would do it. (Belle stops. The Queen laughs and they continue walking:) Oh, child, no. I would never suggest a young woman to kiss a man who held her captive. What kind of message is that?” Belle: “Right.” Evil Queen: “Besides, if he loves you, he would've let you go. And if he doesn't love you, well then, the kiss won't even work.” Belle: “Well, he did let me go.” Evil Queen: “Yes, but no kiss happened.” Belle: “And a kiss—a kiss is enough? He'd be a man again?” Evil Queen: “An ordinary man. True love's kiss will break any curse.” The Enchanted Forest. (From a window inside his castle, Rumplestiltskin is frantically looking out the window for Belle. Once he spots her returning, he rushes down the stairs to feign busily spinning at the wheel. Belle arrives back with a full basket of straw.) Rumplestiltskin: “Oh, you're back already. Good. Good thing. I'm, uh... I'm nearly out of straw.” Belle: “Hmm. (She crosses to the wheel and puts down her basket:) Come on, you're happy that I'm back.” Rumplestiltskin: “I'm not unhappy.” Belle: (Laughs:) “And, you promised me a story.” Rumplestiltskin: “Did I?” Belle: “Mm-hmm. (She removes the thread from his hand and sits down beside him:) Tell me about your son.” Rumplestiltskin: (Hesitantly:) “Uh... I lost him. There's nothing more to tell, really.” Belle: “And since then, you've loved no one, and no one has loved you.” Rumplestiltskin: (Leans toward her:) “Why did you come back?” Belle: "I wasn't going to. But then... something changed my mind.” (They kiss briefly.)

Rumplestiltskin: “Oh. (His face begins changing as the greenness of his skin starts to melt away. He keeps his eyes closed, unsure:) What's happening?” Belle: “Kiss me again, it's working.” Rumplestiltskin: (In a human voice:) “What is?” Belle: “Any curse can be broken.” Rumplestiltskin: (Stands up abruptly in anger:) “Who told you that!? Who knows that!?” Belle: “I-I-I don't know. She, uh... she—she--” Rumplestiltskin: “She. (He crosses the room and uncovers a mirror, speaking into it:) You... evil... soul. This was you! You turned her against me! You think you can make me weak? You think you can defeat me!?” Belle: “Who are you talking to?” Rumplestiltskin: “The Queen! Your friend, the Queen! How did she get to you?” Belle: “The-the Queen? I don't--” Rumplestiltskin: “I knew this was a trick. I knew you could never care for me. Oh, yeah. You're working for her. Or is this all you? Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?” Belle: “It was working--” Rumplestiltskin: “Shut up!” Belle: “This means it's true love!” Rumplestiltskin: “Shut the hell up!” Belle: “Why won't you believe me?!” Rumplestiltskin: “Because no one-- (He furiously shakes her:) No one could ever, ever love me!” (The scene shifts to him throwing her into the cell. Belle lands on the hard ground, confused, as he slams the door shut.)

#swan queen #sq #swanqueen

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thekingisagirl · 7 years ago

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iChapters: 1/29 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Maleficent Characters: Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Maleficent (Once Upon a Time), Lily | Lilith Page, Emma Swan, Merlin | The Sorcerer (Once Upon a Time), Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Abigail | Kathryn Nolan, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Ursula (Once Upon a Time), Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Leopold (Once Upon a Time), Regina’s Father | Henry Mills Sr., Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Queen of Hearts | Cora, Tiana (Disney), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold Additional Tags: Political AU, Slow Burn, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Minor Character Death, Minor characters doing their own thing, Adoption Summary:

Only six months into office, and Vice President Regina Mills has a firm handle on the West Wing of the White House. She worked her way up from a small town Mayor to the Queen of D.C., but when a article threatens to expose the personal life of the White House Press Secretary, Mallory von Dragon, her well-ordered life quickly spins out of control. Now they have to face their own old demons, new challenges and not so new feelings, together.

THIS STORY IS FINISHED AND WILL BE UPDATED WEEKLY

Thanks to both @imperfectionisunderratedhbc @theoneandonlyregina for betaing this! Bless you and your tireless work!

Also @the-baby-penguins for encouriging me to start writing in the first place. You guys are all rockstars!

And @wishingonlightning my muse, without whom this would have never gotten finished!

Also also specificly @ussjellyfish for her stamp of aproval as the Caption of the Dragon Queen ship. I bow to the master

Okay that’s it I promise!

#dragon queen #dragonqueen #ouat fic #fanfic #ouat femslash #mine

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thenightling · 8 years ago

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Once Upon a Time vs. Faery Lore

This post is to discuss actual faery lore vs. Once Upon a Time faery lore and a little commentary on pop culture faery lore. I am going to explain why the actual faery lore (traditional faery lore) would have worked best for Rumplestiltskin being the Black Faery's Son.

1. What it means to be Half-Faery:

In traditional folklore being the child of a human and a faery is not like being half German or half Swedish or Half Italian, or half Chinese, ect. People have gotten too used to pop culture treating supernatural creatures like human racial backgrounds. That's why I compared it to diabetes. In folklore faeries mated with humans often and the faery aspect never really dilutes. You either are a faery or you're not. The "Half-faery" in modern fantasy fiction wasn't a thing. There were "lesser" faeries looked down upon because of their origin, not because they had only half the power or aged like a human, or other such limitations imagined by modern fantasy authors.

In faery lore a human could be turned into a faery or a faery could be born of human and faery parents or of two faery parents (though faery off spring is pretty rare, that's why the race is so limited). But the child is always totally faery (I'm speaking of the folkloric version, not modern pop culture fiction, mind you).

Disney's Gargoyles was actually pretty good about this when David Xanatos and Fox's son, Alex. Fox only seemed human because her magick was woefully under-developed, having been raised to believe herself human. But her son was trained in magick since birth by Puck so by the time he was a toddler he had mastered soul transference of all things.

Folklore about faeries is a lot stranger than our pop culture, which has watered it down to make sense with our perception of genetics but faeryism (Is that a thing?) isn't grounded in science. It's magical. In fact one origin given for Robin Goodfellow (Puck) is that he is the product of Oberon having an affair with a mortal woman and once he was old enough Oberon took him as his slave / servant. But Puck is never considered half-faery in any lore, but always a faery.

Faeries born of a human parent are sometimes considered lesser by the Seelie style of faery but that's more of a snobbery sort of thing. Unseelie (dark faeries) mate with humans all the time. Like the wizards of Harry Potter you either are or you aren't a wizard, despite your genetic background. It's not like in True Blood.

But here I am babbling about Folklore and Once Upon a Time seems convinced all faeries are female and wear frilly skirts and to "Simplify" things they don't even let Maleficent be a faery- which is practically a crime against the character.

Now there is a chance The Black Fairy used to be human and became a fairy later but with the "Simplifications" in Once upon a Time that doesn't seem likely.

I fear, however, that Once Upon a Time's logic will be along the lines of this...

Hypothetical scenario:

The black fairy had a human lover, something probably frowned upon but if the baby was born female she would be a fairy. If the baby is male he's mortal. And the fairy has to choose giving up the child and remaining a fairy or become human and stay with her baby. The Black Fairy did not want to give up being a fairy but the loss of her child drove her mad (hence the baby abductions).

2. Faery weaknesses:

If the show followed a more traditional version of faery lore and Rumplestiltskin had always been faery (or half-fairy based on pop culture reasoning) then logic would suggest a weakness to iron such as what you see in Disney's Gargoyles and the film Maleficent.

In his mortal life Rumplestiltskin's greatest injury was the smashing of his right ankle with an iron mallet. If they had followed a more traditional fairy lore this would have explained why he was never able to truly heal that ankle (Why every time he's without magick the ankle is again unable to function correctly).

In traditional faery folklore a wound created with iron could be fatal to a faery or would have to heal as a mortal might, without the aid of magick. Any body part removed with iron cannot be restored. The film Maleficent is a lot kinder about this idea.

Alas, vulnerability to iron has never come up in the show. ...Or has it?

The Dark One Dagger (which bears his true name, more on that later) is clearly steel / Iron and the early script for Skin Deep mentioned that Gaston showed up at The Dark Castle with an iron sword. Prince Charming was able to wound Rumplestiltskin’s cheek with his steel sword in Season One but Rumplestiltskin was able to heal that with magick. Perhaps because steel isn’t pure iron?

3. Names.

In traditional folklore true names have power, particularly with magical beings. According to many legends if you know a faery's true name you can summon them by calling out their name thrice, and you can banish them by a similar method. This is something Once Upon a Time actually hints at. Notice how Rumplestiltskin seems able to hear / sense it when someone is calling out to him. There's even a simple yet traditional invocation in Regina's Grimoire, to summon him.

This is why faeries are often very secretive about their names and or are given very unique and strange names that you would not commonly hear in the human world. This lore is part of where the concept for the original Rumpelstiltskin faery tale came from.

In the Dresden Files novel the wizard Harry Dresden is actually Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden and he is very careful not to give his true name to any supernatural being lest it might give them power over him.

In Once Upon a Time Rumplestitlskin's own human father speaks of the importance of names when he gives child Rumplestiltskin the straw doll that he names Peter Pan (a name Rumple's own father takes when he de-ages himself). Rumplestiltskin's father says that to name a thing is to make it real.

Rumplestiltksin himself talks about the importance of names, that he collects them (off-handedly mentioned in season one). And at one point the still-human Jiminy Cricket delivers to him a list of names, which Rumplestiltskin repays with a strand of golden thread ("For your thievery.")

When Snow White and Prince Charming are being lead to Rumplestiltskin's dungeon in the pilot episode the guard speaks to them as if they have never met Rumplestiltskin before (and the guard may simply not know any better) and he warms them not to give their names. If he has their names it will give him power over them.

Rumplestiltskin trades information to Snow White and Prince Charming for the name of their child, who will be the savior. It's when he hears Emma's name for the first time in Storybrooke that his own true memories of being Rumplestiltskin are restored. Names have power.

In Season Six, when Rumplestiltskin brings home a baby to The Dark Castle for use in luring out The Black Fairy Belle asks what the baby's name is. Rumplestiltskin had made it a point to NOT learn the child's name for fear of getting attached to the baby and tells her as much. When he summons the Black Fairy it is revealed that she never even gave him a name. This is odd because Rumplestiltskin is very much a non-human, traditionally faery name, and Malcolm (Peter Pan) did not seem to be that clever to have come up with something like Rumplestiltskin.

When Belle and Rumplestiltskin's own child, Gideon, is born at first Belle does not tell Rumplestiltskin his name for fear that Rumplestiltskin would simply use it to track down their baby (He had good reason...)

Names do have power in Once Upon a Time. So this is one aspect of the lore at least sort of kept in tact. It just seems odd that this faery mother did not name him at all and the (at the time) human father came up with a name like Rumplestiltskin.

4. Wings:

Despite what Once Upon a Time would have you think when it had Tinkerbell stripped of her wings and despite the plot of Maleficent and Tumbilina, in traditional folklore many faeries do not actually have wings and in fact can fly without them. In traditional foklore wings are NOT a requirement to be considered a faery. There are many, many types of faeries without wings.

The winged faeries only became truly popular in America as we started to associate all faeries with pixie style faeries, which Once Upon a Time is guilty of with it’s dumbed down “Simplifications.”

Even Jareth in Labyrinth is technically a faery and he flies by transforming himself into a barn owl.

And even Puck in Disney’s Gargoyles simply levitated himself. So please don’t dismiss Rumplestiltskin’s Fae status just because he does not have wings.

I have a suspicion though that the show will base faeryism on gender, rendering the show unable to ever introduce the likes of Oberon, Puck and Titania from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream / Disney’s Gargoyles. This is a shame. Yet again i cannot help but feel that the show is unconsciously portraying misandry toward Rumplestiltskin with a Dark Crystal-esque only girls can be faeries or “Only Girls have wings.”

5. The taking of children.

Children are actually sacred to faeries in traditional folklore and faery conception is rare so often they will take a human child and transform him or her into what they are. This may have been in the ultimate goal in the original Rumpelstiltskin faery tale.

"Today I brew, tomorrow I bake, And then the Prince child I will take. For no one knows my little game, That Rumpelstiltskin is my name."

In Once Upon a time however there was always some reason behind each child Rumplestiltskin went after.

In regard to the idea of Rumplestiltskin taking babies…

A. When Rumplestiltskin wanted Cora’s first born it was because his Seer powers told him that her child (Regina) would cast the Dark Curse. He even alludes to it in the tower when talking to her.

B. When Rumplestiltskin came after Cinderella’s baby it was because that is what set things into motion which lead to his capture.

The capture was necessary to 1. Find out the name of the savior child, 2. to tell Regina what was missing from the curse, and 3. to get his cushy caveats for Storybrooke. When he came after Cinderella’s baby again in Storybrooke it was to wring the deal from Emma which ultimately lead to her helping him reunite with his son in New York. He cashed in the deal to have Emma chase Neal / Baelfire because in our world he literally can’t run (Season 2 episode Manhattan).

C. Even in Season Six when he took the baby from Jack and Jill (which is technically an incestuous relationship if you pay attention to Welcome to Storybrooke…) it was to lure The Black Fairy into a trap. He did not stop Belle from returning the baby to his parents though he easily could have. In fact he was watching as she returned the child.

D. In fact in Lacey (Season 2) Belle stops him from shooting Robin Hood by telling him he’s not the sort of man to separate a child from his parents.

Technically Once Upon a Time’s Snow White and Prince Charming have taken more babies from their parents than he has.

Even in the fairy tale it’s indicated to be the first time he’s ever made such a bargain. The fairy tale literally tells you he takes pity on the Queen as soon as she starts crying. It’s not headcanon, the word pity is written right in the Grimm version, which is the darkest version, by the way. Does that sound like someone whose done that many times to you?

The Black Fairy however follows a more well known and sinister aspect of faery lore in that she does snatch away children. The same is true of Peter Pan (Once he gained eternal youth), particularly once he started to adopt the Pied Piper Persona and ironically Rumplestiltskin played the part of the lame boy from the original faery tale.

The poem The Stolen Child by William Butler Yeats specifically is about faeries taking a child. The poem was used as a coping mechanism after the death of a baby.

With Once upon a Time I suspect there may even be an origin for The Black fairy’s stealing of children, perhaps because she was forcibly separated from her own child.

6. Faery Gender:

In traditional faery lore faeries could be male or female. You notice that right away in works like Shakespeare’s a Midsummer Night’s Dream yet in Once Upon a Time every faery shown is not only Pixie style but also female. This undermines any ability to introduce the likes of Robin Goodfellow AKA Puck. I suspect there will be some casual misandry as to why Rumplestitlskin in Once Upon a Time “Doesn’t count as a faery” making those of us who love traditional faery lore twitch.

7. Aging:

Fairies, by their very nature, are immortal. Once they reach their prime they can selectively appear any age (or non-age) they choose. faeries are ageless creatures. This contradicts repeatedly statements in Once Upon a Time that “Only The Dark One is immortal” but very obviously The Blue Fairy and Black Fairy are also over three-hundred-years-old and have not aged a day.

#Rumplestiltskin #Rumpelstiltskin #Rumpel #Rumple #Once Upon a Time #OUAT #Faeries #Faerie #Fairy #Fairies #Folklore #Fairy tales #Fairytale

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eirian-houpe · 4 years ago

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The Pawn Shop On Main Street - Chapter 1

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson & Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Additional Tags: Cursed Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Angst, Romance, Eventual Smut, Will add more as apropriate

Summary: Gold is suddenly awakened from the curse, not by the fail-safe that he programmed into his mind, but by the unexpected presence of his long lost maid, with whom he fell in love well before Regina cast his Dark Curse, Rumplestiltskin must now find a way past Belle's disbelief and fear. She is still under the influence of the curse. With the help of his dear - his oldest - friend, Gold seeks a way past obstacles so that he can rekindle the love which he rejected back in the Dark Castle.

The story is set in the same 'verse as The Library Beneath the Clock Tower, and could be considered a sequel of sorts.

Chapter 1 - Old Friends

He felt drawn to her. He could not look away, his gaze transfixed as her eyes took in the fireworks bursting overhead. They paled by comparison. Nothing could compare.

…a brief flicker of light in an ocean of darkness.

The thought caught him off guard, as if he were standing on the edge of a fall, with a gust of wind buffeting him toward the edge. He felt suddenly thirsty - the earth waiting for the cloud above his head to burst like the sparkles and fizzles overhead.

All this time she had been right there, within reach, the meaning that had been missing for as long as he could remember - as long as he had been in Storybrooke. It made sense of everything he’d done, but at the same time made no sense at all.

Suddenly afraid, for no reason he could understand, he took a step closer, right behind her, caressing her fingers softly, before taking her hands, slowly, into his own. Their fingers entwined.

It flashed through him in a pulse; bright, vibrant, burning away the fog of years and realms.

She mocked him. Regina mocked him - how dare she, and yet, he had no energy, and even less will to react to her impudence.

“Is this about that girl I met on the road?” She laughed and stalked the room, her hips swaying in exaggerated sensuality. It reminded him of Cora, and that did little to change his mood… the reminder of other betrayals, other… abandonments. Regina glanced his way. “What was her name? Margie? Verna?

Rumplestiltskin barely breathed her name. “Belle.”

Suddenly business-like, this evil queen he had created, said matter-of-fact as she fixed herself some tea - uninvited, “Right. Well... you can rest assured I had nothing to do with that tragedy.”

He stopped idly spinning the wheel and turned to walk toward her, all but willing pox into the cup she was stirring, “What… tragedy?”

“You don't know?” Regina asked as though scandalized, then chuckled as she cleaned the spoon with her mouth and set it down. “Well, After she got home… her fiancé had gone missing.” He feigned innocence, but Regina knew. Her expression told him so. She took only a few steps away before turning around. “And after her stay here, her… association… with you, no one would want her, of course. Her father shunned her, cut her off, shut her out.”

Hope flared in his heart, and in an unguarded moment, he let the words slip from deep within that hope. “So she needs… a home?”

Regina laughed cruelly, though whether at what had happened, or at him for his weakness he was uncertain, then went on, “He was cruel to her. He locked her in a tower and sent in clerics to cleanse her soul with scourges and flaying. After a while, she threw herself off the tower. She died.”

She spoke the last two words with such careless triumph that the urge to throttle the life from the conniving bitch almost choked him… murdered his hope.

“You're lying,” he growled.

“Am I?” she countered, leaving him cold and dead inside.

He wanted to be angry now, to rail against the lies Regina had told him, blatant fabrications, right to his face, and yet… Here was his light. Hale, whole and…

“You’re real,” he breathed. “You’re alive!”

He moved closer yet, moving his fingers again in a soft, quiet caress. The curse was lifted, he remembered. Everything, and oh, how beastly he had been when they had last seen one another. When he had sent her away.

”I’m not a coward, dearie. It’s quite simple really… my power… means more to me than you.”

She pulled herself up to her full, diminutive height, and looked him full in the face. “No. No, it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you. Now, you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it.”

His heart broke as her voice quivered - a roar of pain that almost drowned out her following word, “Forever.”

He curled his hands into fists. His hard, pointed talons left wheal marks in his palms, but he couldn’t allow her to see how much her words affected him.

“And all you'll have... is an empty heart,” her voice broke, and she forced herself to go on, “and a chipped cup.”

Her eyes were filled with tears, but she held his gaze, and he had to push his own rising tears deep inside lest he belie his words. Not until she had turned, and walked away, out of the cell, and out of his life… forever… and he could no longer see or hear her, did he move - and then only to close his eyes.

Was she feeling this too? Did she remember? A part of him hoped not; hoped that fate had delivered him a way to right the wrongs of his past; to woo her, to love her as she deserved to be loved, and yet, the Dark One knew that ‘loopholes’ was another word for lies. Gold wanted no more lies.

For a moment, one sweet, sharp moment she leaned against him, tightened her fingers around his, and he knew… he knew without any doubt that she remembered. At least in that moment, she remembered.

“Belle,” he whispered.

Then, like the icy fall of rain that dampened even the hottest fire, she snatched her hands from his, and he was suddenly frozen, bereft. Helpless to do anything other that watch with mounting fear as she turned to face him; tried with all his heart to let her see that she had been right all along - that she had the measure of him, and not only that - but now, in the face of seeing her again, though he wanted nothing more than to reach out and draw her into his arms, hold her forever - protected, loved - he was still a coward.

“Belle,” he whispered again, reaching too late to catch her as she picked up her skirts and fled. He cried out for her, as he should have done then, in the Dark Castle - called her back, “Belle!”

His cry was echoed a moment later and he registered a familiar voice behind the calling. His friend, Jefferson. A Storybrooke friend, yes, but the Dark One’s only friend through all the ages. How could he not have known?

He stared. He stared after Belle, who stopped at neither of their calling, and he stared toward Jefferson, meeting the horrified expression that mirrored his own.

The Hatter seemed torn, glanced away as if to find Belle in the crowd, but ultimately turned his steps and hurried to Gold’s side.

"You knew!" Gold almost sobbed, and reaching out, grabbed Jefferson by the lapels of his flamboyant, silk tailcoat and pulled him closer, almost shaking the man. "How could you know… know me and yet say nothing?"

Jefferson’s long fingers closed around his wrists, not to prevent, but to anchor, as if the Portal Jumper feared to let go and needed to hold him close as he spoke.

"The man you are here and I said that?" Jefferson said, pained, and only then Gold saw the tears that were gathered in the other man’s blue eyes. "How could I, and not have you cast me away?"

For all that he saw, for all that he felt, still Gold gave vent to his own pain. "But you were my… we were friends!"

Instead of words, Jefferson answered with cry, almost of anguish, and suddenly releasing his wrists, clutched Gold close.

"We are friends," he sobbed, clinging tightly. "We are!"

At first, startled, Gold struggled, tried to push Jefferson away, but as the present melted away leaving just the two of them alone on the rise above where the other revelers were lost in their drunken celebrations of the night, Gold… Rumplestiltskin missed his friend, and already held tightly in Jefferson’s embrace, pulled the man closer still, and held him through the maelstrom of all that he was - pawnbroker, landlord, deal maker, sorcerer, master, Dark One, killer, father, husband, lover… coward - all of it, every little piece of him returning in a rush, he clung to Jefferson like a man drowning.

Eventually, both spent, they each slumped, exhausted to the ground, mute and panting for breath, though as he looked across at Jefferson, Rumplestiltskin saw that silent tears still ran down Jefferson’s face. Intuitively he knew the cause.

“I didn’t know,” he said, and Jefferson raised his face to look at him, incomprehension in his wet and shining eyes. “Grace,” Gold offered. “I didn’t know what Regina planned.”

“I know,” Jefferson whispered, before finding his voice. “I have always known it was her doing, and hers alone.” He reached out for Gold’s hand, and he took it without hesitation, listening as Jefferson continued. “For all that we didn’t see things the same way much of the time; for all that we fought, I knew and never once doubted that you’d ever do something like that to another man, another father. I saw what you did for Baelfire and—”

“Bae,” Gold interrupted. His voice hoarse and rasping. He felt Jefferson’s fingers tighten around his own, and he took a breath. “If I had the power,” he said, “to undo what she did.”

“No!” Jefferson sounded alarmed, almost terrified, then went on more calmly, “No. Not until we can be together. Not until I can be sure she won’t hate me for abandoning her. She can’t know.” His voice cracked as he went on. “Cloe’s her mother here. She knows nothing about a foolish man who made a promise and then broke it; who abandoned her to ignominy and hardship.”

“Jefferson…”

The other man blanched, and releasing his grip on Gold held up both hands in surrender, as if he thought he’d just delivered some kind of terrible insult.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Gold murmured quietly.

“Then whose?” Jefferson shook his head; argued. “I can recite a whole litany of ‘if I hadn’ts’ going all the way back to before we first met. Who else’s fault can it be?”

Gold fixed him with a level, uncompromising look.

“No,” Jefferson said firmly. “You are not responsible for all the ills of every realm.”

Gold was silent for a long time. He knew Jefferson well enough to understand that when he had his mind fixed on something - especially something self-deprecating - there could be no moving him; not until he saw the truth of it for himself.

Both men sighed, almost at the same time, and that made Gold chuckle just a little, with a good deal of his own self-deprecation, before he said, “And that… that, my good man, is why you are the Dark One’s only true friend.”

Jefferson let out another sigh, then offered Gold a smile through half-pursed lips, and then started to push himself up off the ground where they had both fallen.

“I’ll find her,” he promised softly. “Make sure she’s safe and gets home all right. We can fix this. We’ll find a way.”

“Ever the optimist, Jefferson.”

“Hardly,” the Hatter said dryly, before turning, ready to begin his descent from the hill. He stopped after just a few steps, and turned back. “Rumplestiltskin?”

Gold looked up, his head tipped to one side. “Hmm?”

“How long?”

Gold looked skyward, as if the position of the stars could give him the answer to Jefferson’s question, and they might well have - had time not been motionless in Storybrooke these past… He shook his head. He knew the answer. It was written into the fabric of the Dark Curse, into the single drop of ‘True Love’ he had dripped onto the parchment; The single drop that would herald the arrival of The Savior.

“Twenty-eight years,” he answered quietly. “Twenty-eight years.”

#rumbelle #cursed storybrooke #angst #romance #eventual smut #the pawn shop on main street #the library beneath the clock tower #i will always write jefferson

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