A/N: I really have no excuse at this point. If you're still reading this, thanks so much for sticking with it even in spite of my abhorrent updating schedule. At this point, I think I'd just be fooling myself if I said I knew when my next update will be, but I do promise that I will finish this story eventually.

Also, I'm sorry for any errors! I was eager to get this posted, but I might go back and do another round of edits later.

Rumplestiltskin stood in an open field and gave an audible huff of frustration. He had been traveling all day and consulting his runes as to the location of the star. But they weren't making any sense; he wasn't being pointed in any direction. He had tried interpreting them in every way possible, but he just couldn't seem to get anything usable out of them.

There wasn't anything left to do. He really didn't want to use any further magic, but it couldn't be helped. As much as he loathed to admit it, he needed assistance.

He conjured up a small mirror. He rubbed it roughly with his palm. A few moments later, the faces of Ursula and Maleficent appeared before him.

"You're looking a little worse for the wear, Rumple," Maleficent said, gesturing toward his arms, which were now covered in scales all the way from his fingertips to his shoulders. You of all people should know magic always comes with a price. I would have thought that would deter you from using it carelessly."

"Of course I know the price magic comes with," he replied. "But I'm in need of counsel."

"I never thought I'd see the day when you admitted to needing help," Ursula said, chuckling deeply. "Not the powerful Rumplestiltskin."

"We don't have time for this," he spat out. He could feel his temper flaring to life, but he managed to keep it enough under control to calm his voice and say, in a very measured tone, "You know as well as I do that the more I use magic, which includes using this mirror, the more my appearance deteriorates. And I need to blend in to accomplish what I set out to do. Now, if you'd both be quiet and stop making jokes at my expense, maybe we could get down to the pressing matter at hand. Or do you want to wait another who knows how many years for another star to fall?"

That seemed to sober the two witches, whose faces immediately adopted twin looks of chastisement. Although, if he really thought about it, he could have sworn that he saw a twinkle of mirth in Maleficent's eye and a twitch at the corner of Ursula's mouth. He restrained himself from saying anything, but just barely. It wouldn't do to get angry now. As he'd said, he had something far more important to accomplish.

"Now that you've stopped being children," he said, "I need your opinion on these runes. They're not telling me to go anywhere. I think they may be faulty."

"Impossible!" Maleficent said. "Those runes have served us well for many years."

"See for yourself," he replied, tossing them in the air. When they hit the ground, he turned the mirror towards them so that the witches could see what they said.

"You see?" he asked, turning the mirror back to his own face. "They're not working."

"You imbecile," Ursula yelled. "I knew we shouldn't have sent you! The runes couldn't be simpler!"

"How, dearie?" he snapped back. "Where can I go if they're not telling me to go anywhere?"

"You're not supposed to go to the star," Ursula said. "How much more obvious could it be?"

"You're supposed to wait for him to come to you," said Maleficent.

That brought Rumplestiltskin up short. How could he have not seen it? It was such a simple explanation. As much as it pained him to admit, he really did deserve to be reprimanded for his oversight. But before Maleficent or Ursula had the chance to gloat any further, he banished the mirror. He didn't want to listen to them making a mockery of him.

He had preparations to make.

~/~

Killian felt like he had been riding all day. He knew that it had really only been a couple of hours at most, but he was exhausted, despite the fact that this was normally the time when he would be wide awake. His left hand hurt like crazy. He had tried to favor his right hand to stay balanced atop the unicorn, but since there were no reins, he was occasionally forced to use his left to grab ahold of the unicorn's neck to stay balanced.

He had thought about asking the unicorn to slow down, but he knew it wasn't a wise idea. He didn't want to sleep outside, where anyone could happen upon him. They needed to press on until he found somewhere safe to rest his head for the night. And the sooner they found a place, the better.

Almost as if the universe was listening to his thoughts, he and his companion came turned around a bend in the road and came upon a wooden building. Out front, there was a large green sign that had the word "Inn" printed on it in large letters. Killian sighed in relief. This was just what he needed: somewhere to rest before facing the next day and figuring out what he should do next.

He urged the unicorn toward the door of the building and dismounted.

"Wait right here," he said. "I'm going to see if I can get a room." Suddenly, a sinking feeling entered his stomach. "Although I'm not sure if they'll give me one since I don't have any money."

He felt a few raindrops fall from the sky and he glanced up. The light of the moon was still fairly bright, but he could see storm clouds gathering and blocking out the light from his siblings above.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "Hopefully they have a stable where you can stay out of the rain."

The unicorn huffed in acquiescence and lightly tapped his snout against Killian's head.

"Thanks for the reassurance," Killian said, giving the unicorn one last pat before striding toward the door and knocking.

He barely had to wait a moment before the door swung open, and he was met by the sight of a middle-aged man standing before him. He wore a long, heavy brown robe, with the hood pulled up over his head, and Killian noticed that his hands were covered by some thick black gloves.

"Yes, dearie?" he said as he opened the door. "How can I be of service?"

"I'm terribly sorry to trouble you," Killian said. "But I've been traveling for a while and I was just looking for somewhere to stop for the night."

"Of course, of course," said the innkeeper. "Please, come on in. We are an inn after all."

"Oh, but that's the problem, you see." Killian replied. "I don't have any money." He had thought about not mentioning his inability to pay until the morning, but he found himself losing his nerve. He couldn't do that to this man who was just trying to make a living and hadn't done anything to harm him.

But this was stupid. There was no reason this person, a complete stranger would let him stay here for free…

"Oh, no matter, no matter at all," the innkeeper replied, stepping back from the door and gesturing for Killian to come in. "It's looking like we've got a storm on the way. I can't in good conscience let you sleep outside in the rain."

Killian couldn't believe his luck.

"Oh, thank you!" he said, feeling his body sag with relief. "I can't tell you what this means to me."

He stepped over the threshold and the innkeeper closed the door behind him.

"Don't let it trouble you at all," the innkeeper replied. "You can help me with gathering firewood or something of the sort tomorrow and we'll call it even."

"That certainly sounds fair," Killian said. "More than fair actually."

"I like to do what I can," the innkeeper said, placing his hand on Killian's shoulder and gently guiding him toward the inside of the inn. It was a quaint little place: small and simply decorated but clean and cozy looking. There was a wooden bar off to one side and tables and chairs spread throughout the floor, clearly showing that it was meant to double as a small tavern as well. On the far wall was a fireplace, which already had a roaring fire inside it.

Killian hadn't realized how cold he had been. He felt his body start to warm up almost immediately.

"We can see to all of that in the morning, however," the innkeeper said, breaking Killian out of his thoughts. "For now, I think the most important thing is getting you some rest. Why don't you head upstairs," he continued, gesturing toward a flight of wooden stairs toward the back of the room, "and we can get a nice, hot bath drawn for you."

"Oh, but my ride," Killian said, thinking of the unicorn who had come to his rescue standing outside alone in the rain. "He needs to be taken to the stable."

"Oh, no need to worry, no need to worry. My wife can take care of that while we get you settled," the innkeeper said. "Dear!" he then called loudly. "Can you please get this young man's steed situated in the stable?"

Killian didn't see anyone else in the room, so he was expecting to see someone come down the stairs. Rather, a woman rose up from behind the bar. Instead of coming around the edge of the bar to get to the door, she jumped straight up onto the bar and stood there for a moment, just staring straight ahead. Killian noted that she looked…just a little bit…different from other humans he had seen. For the most part, she seemed like any normal person, but her curly brown hair was sticking up at somewhat odd angles, and her jaw was set strangely, almost as if she was jutting it out on purpose. There also seemed to be some kind of blankness or emptiness behind her eyes.

Before Killian had a chance to consider her any further, she had jumped off the bar and headed out the door. He had half a mind to ask the innkeeper if she was alright but thought better it. He had spent many years observing humanity and if there was one thing he had learned, it was that there were all kinds of people who behaved in all kinds of different ways. Best not to bring it up.

"Now that that's taken care of, I'll have my son show you to your room," the innkeeper said. "Son, could you come here?" he called.

Killian looked back toward the bar nervously, half expecting another person to jump up on top of it, but he didn't see anything. Rather he heard some heavy footfalls coming down the stairs. He looked up to see a man who appeared to be a few years older than himself walking down.

Killian was relieved to see that although he appeared perturbed at having been called downstairs at the late hour of the night, he didn't seem quite as strange as the innkeeper's wife had been.

"Yes?" the man who he assumed was the innkeeper's son asked, a note of annoyance clear in his voice.

"Please show our guest to his room and run him a hot bath," the innkeeper said. "I'll be up to assist in a moment."

"Of course," he replied. Then, directing his gaze toward Killian, "Right this way, sir."

Killian started up the stairs, relieved at the prospect of getting to rest. When he got to the foot of the stairs, he turned back.

"Wait," he said. "I never got your name. I'd like to be able to know it to be able to properly thank you for your kindness."

"Mr. Gold, dearie," the innkeeper replied. "You can call me Mr. Gold."

~/~

Rumplestiltskin let out a sigh of relief as he watched the star head up the stairs. For a moment, he had been sure that his plan was going to fail. Before the star's arrival, he had transformed the goat into a woman and had restored the goat's owner to his original human form. He had also put a spell on them to compel them to do anything he asked. He had thought that presenting the star with a picture of a loving family would make him more inclined to trust them and to stay.

Initially, it seemed as though his spellwork had been adequate. However, after the star had arrived, it became apparent that the goat was still very goatish, and that the goat's owner — whose name he hadn't bothered to learn — had still been able to show some discontentment with the situation he found himself in. He had half expected the star to sense something was wrong and run out the door and back onto his unicorn screaming.

However, it appeared that he needn't have worried. He knew that even though they had the ability to watch everything happening upon earth from the heavens, stars could be incredibly naive. He was glad that it had worked in his favor tonight. He was already having to cover himself up with his heavy robe and gloves to avoid displaying the scales that were taking over his body; he wasn't sure he could afford using any further magic to strengthen his spellwork.

But the spells had worked, and all that was left to do now was to make sure the star felt as comfortable as possible. The more content a star was when it died, the more powerful the magic its heart contained. He just needed to wait for the right moment.

Walking back behind the bar, Rumplestiltskin pulled out his weapon of choice: a large dagger with a black hilt and a jagged silver bade. A long-favorite possession of his, the blade of the dagger bore his name, which was carved straight down the middle.

This will do quite nicely when the time is right, he thought to himself as he slipped the dagger into the pocket of his robes and headed up the stairs.