Lost? That post made me want Werewolf!Graham Squared.
I wrote a fic a bit ago about what if Grey was in FTL, An AU of that is they way I could figure to make this work, so Grey (called Graham since the huntsman doesn't have the name yet) is a court jester.
II
The cells below the castle rarely housed a living soul. King Stephan was a benevolent man and a peaceful king. His visitor, however, was a royal of a different stripe. Someone was down there.
Queen Regina's guards had gone down to the cells after dinner, and when they came back one was not with them. Despite the night they'd spent together Graham did not know his name, but he knew he had to find out what had happened to him. It was an hour before Graham could follow. They hadn't bothered leaving anyone behind to watch the door.
"I brought a blanket and a tankard of mead. It's cold down here once the walls loose the heat from the sun." He creeped down the stairs and gasped when he found that the first cell held not a man, but a creature. A wolf, larger than he'd ever seen, paced the small space.
"She brought no animals with her." He'd heard stories of men who turned to wolves when the full moon rose. Like tonight. He'd told tales of such a thing happening, his intent to send shivers down the spine of his audience. It was he that shook now.
"If I stay here until morning what will I find?" Graham wrapped the blanket around himself and sat on the floor with the tankard. He would find out.
rumpledillo needed some cheering up. This is based on a prompt she sent me. After the last ep, not AU yet but it will be after the next ep I'm sure.
II
“Something’s wrong.” She’d never worried before, that things might come to a breaking point. She worried now. Rumple was gone, and then Neal. She couldn’t trust her father and though Grumpy was a good friend he was worried about his missing brothers. She’d been alone for days, and each breath she took felt like it was one closer to another loss.
She dreamt of her room in the tower every night when she was alone in her bed. Rumple’s bed.
“You found Neal.” She could barely breathe, her hands resting hard against the glass case to hold herself up. Rumple’s son, the brave man that had stood by her. She had so wanted him to be family. He already felt like it, and she had been so proud to know him.
“No.” David shook his head, and Belle’s legs felt weak. “We found something else.”
“My father?” She had mourned the man that she had thought her father was, and was reticent to allow herself to spend time with him, but he was her father. She didn’t want anything to happen to him. She should have insisted he stay closer until they learned what was going on.
“No one else is missing, not since Little John. But we found a farm out at the edge of town. There’s a basement, and what looks to be a cell.”
“Someone’s been kept locked up?” A basement, cold and dark. Isolated and alone. Belle looked to the door, but resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and see that a second escape was clear as well. Her basement room, like the tower, only had one exit and that was always guarded.
“I really think you should sit d…”
“Tell me. Please. Whatever it is I can handle it.” It was the not knowing that always made things harder. She needed answers.
“No one was inside, but there was straw all over the floor and a spinning wheel.” He was looking at her so intently, waiting. For a moment she didn’t understand why.
A spinning wheel and straw. “Someone’s trying to play us. But why? Who has anything to gain if we think…”
“There were gold threads, Belle. Emma found a piece of straw that was half transformed.” His hand was on her shoulder, though she didn’t remember him moving close enough to touch.
“Rumple?” She’d never heard of anyone turning straw into gold, no one other than Rumpelstiltskin. He’d bragged to her once, back when she was his maid and still nervous around him, that it was a trick of his own devising and no one else could do it unless he showed them. He’d confessed to her, much more recently, that he’d only taught one other person. Cora was dead. Rumple was gone, but they’d never seen his body or the dagger. Her Rumpelstiltskin might not be dead.
“We know the Wicked Witch’s powers are strong. If she found a way to…”
“We have to find him, David. He’ll know what’s happening. He’ll know how to find Neal and turn Little John and the others back into humans.” And that mattered, but it mattered just as much that he was alive. She wanted him to be alive. She wanted him.
“We combed the area, the house and the forest around it. There weren’t any signs. If he’s out there somewhere…”
“He is.” She had hope, for the first time in days. Maybe the first time in a year, though she hated to think she’d spent the last year without hope. Her coat was in the back room. She stepped away from David’s light hold, intent on getting it and starting the search.
A crashing in the back shop stopped her.
“Stay here.” From under his jacket David pulled a gun, holding it in his hand. Belle winced, but didn’t let herself step back.
“Put that away.” She’d never seen a gun help a situation. Anyone with magic, like the Wicked Witch, would laugh at a gun and anyone else deserved a chance to speak first.
“Belle…”
“Not in this shop, David, not as long as it’s still in my care. I won’t have guns here.” If she had her way she’d never see another gun.
“May I borrow a sword?” Belle had to smile a little, and nodded her head. Swords spoke of chivalry and a code. It was a weapon that defended, a good weapon for a good man. Guns could not protect except through threats and fear. “At least stay behind me.”
Belle agreed to that much, staying behind him as they entered the back room. The door to the outside was open, broken at the lock. The doors to the cabinet in the far corner were open as well. Nothing else in the room seemed off, not until the singing started.
“Feed the madness and it feeds on you. Feed the madness and it…”
“Rumple.” He was crouched in the corner, behind the desk and between two bookcases. One hand was gesturing wildly, the other held a cup. Their cup.
“Feed the madness…”
“He really is alive.” Belle didn’t look over her shoulder, but heard the note of shock in her companion’s voice. Despite what he’d tried to tell her he hadn’t really believed.
“...feed on you. Feed…”
“I need you to leave, David. Go tell Emma’s what’s happened.” Or anything, as long as he wasn’t standing watching them. She needed to get through to Rumple and she wasn’t going to do that with an audience, no matter how well meaning. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t trust many people, and she needed him to know that he was safe.
“I’m not going anywhere yet,” David insisted. “We don’t know what he might do.”
“Run home, shephard, and protect your lamb from slaughter.” Rumpelstiltskin giggled as he looked up from the cup.
“See, this is what I mean. How do you expect me to leave you with…”
“So brave, to protect one but leave so many others vulnerable to the wolf. Did you ever have a mother sheep wander too far from the flock? Nasty business.” Rumple clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Mary had a little lamb its fleece was white as Snow.”
“What do you know?” David made a lunge for him, but Belle pushed him back, daring to look away from Rumple for a moment even as she feared that he would be gone when she looked back.
“Go home and check on your wife. We’ll either be here or at the house.” She didn’t know if Rumple was in a state to be able to travel, but she would feel safer there. She always felt safer in Rumple’s homes.
“You have my cell number,” he said resignedly.
“And you have my sword,” Belle muttered once he was gone, taking the weapon with him. It didn’t matter. She’d give away every sword in the shop and anything else beside if it meant time with her love. “I’ve missed you Rumpelstiltskin.”
“Feed the madness and it feeds on you.” He half whispered the song to the cup, almost as if it was a lullaby.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” She reached for him, but he pulled the cup in closer to his chest and refused to look at her.
“...the madness and it…”
“You’re not mad, Rumple, and nothing is going to feed on you.” Their cup had been through so much, just like their love. But it was just an object, and they were so much more. Belle linked her finger through the handle and gently tried to tug it away.
“Have to fix it. Weak. So weak. Have to find the cracks, fill them up, make them strong. Broken. It’s all broken.”
“It’s chipped, not broken. You fixed it for us, but you left the chip because that’s the way it’s supposed to be, Rumple. Not perfect, but special.” She ran her finger over the chipped rim, brushing against his hand. Even the tiny touch was like being able to breathe deeply for the first time. He was real. He was alive. “Sometimes things that have been repaired are stronger than they were in the beginning. You told me that I make you strong, but I didn’t get to tell you that you make me strong too.”
“Belle.” The cup fell from his hand as his face twisted into a sob. Belle caught it and set it aside. More importantly she caught him, wrapping her arms around him and feeling her own face dampen with tears.
“We’re home, Rumple.” It didn’t matter what world they were in or what danger they faced; home was being together.
II
Author's note: The prompt was "Rumple finds a familiar cup after escaping Zelena's cage. Meanwhile, Charming tells Belle of their discovery."
I want to be all over Dark!Bae, but that open makes it iffy if Rumple is welcome. (I still wanna do an AU where Bae becomes Dark One instead of his Papa).
(outoffire; Well, he’s spent all this time convinced his Papa’s dead, no one ever said he actually was ;D I currently already have a thread where Neal becomes the Dark One, so that’s why I chose this verse in stead.)
Probably the only thing at this point that would make me leave is if Bobby left.
I would not be happy, especially if they used Neal's death to make a easy path for Hook/Emma because I'm really uncomfortable with that relationship. And it makes no sense to me, because there's so much to explore with Neal. it would piss me off.
I really hate that they released this "someone's going to die" spoiler. It's caused more conflict between groups in the fandom and it takes away from the show.
The Good Wife is an example of the right way to do things. There was a character death last night and he had me sobbing for more than an hour because the emotional impact hadn't been sucked out of it by spoilers.
This is why I avoid spoilers. If I know everything then the show stops emotionally resonating and then I lose interest.
I keep reading your Fairy Remix and dying. I want the next chapter /so much/.
I'm glad you're enjoying it! On account that I'm celebrating the fact that I'm writing again (haven't for a week or so) I'll be amenable to receiving prompts regarding that 'verse.
