First of all, some disclaimers, explanations of where I got part of my inspiration, and some theories:

I am NOT in any way affiliated with ABC, Disney, or the television show "Once Upon A Time." I claim no rights to any of their established characters or storylines. Originally, only Eliza/Paige Cygnus, her family, and her prince were my own creations, but as my story has progressed, I have created several additional original characters.

Eliza/Paige's story is taken from the Grimm fairy tale "The Six Swans." I have given it a "Once Upon A Time"-style twist, adding Rumpelstiltskin and his deal-making as elements in her story, and taking her to ABC's Storybrooke, where her happily ever after is also being ruined.

Her name in fairy-tale land, Eliza, is taken from a 1977 animated film called "The Wild Swans". It was made by the Toei Animation Company, with which I am also NOT affiliated. I loved this movie as a child, so since both characters were based on the same nameless maiden from the fairy tale, I wanted to give that movie homage by using this name, although I have changed the "s" to a "z."

There was also a Hans Christian Anderson version of the story, wherein the maiden was named Elisa, although she had 11 brothers. It was this story in which she had to gather nettles and knit them into shirts, as in the movie, but it was the archbishop who despised Elisa when his king brought the mute girl to become the queen. I am taking elements of both stories, so while Eliza will have to knit nettles into shirts, it will be Mike's mother who is so taken against Paige in my story, just as in the Grimm version of the tale.

Also, I DO NOT KNOW what ABC's intentions, aims, and/or goals are, nor do I claim to know anything about the nature of the curse itself. However, I do deal with the nature of the curse a bit in my story, and have based all my information regarding that and other topics on my personal theories:

~First of all, for the purposes of my story, one of the essential "clauses" of the curse is that, whenever time should start again, every situation in Storybrooke must mirror as closely as possible the situations in fairy-tale land. For instance, Ashley/Cinderella must be mere days away from delivering her child, and she must have absolutely no contact with Shawn/Prince Thomas. Also, she must have some form of agreement or contract to give her baby to Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin. For that matter, the position in which Regina/The Evil Queen finds herself can be said to be similar. While she may no longer be capable of fully loving someone, she has shown that she does care for Henry, as much as she can. So, just as The Evil Queen was still keenly feeling the loss of Daniel, now Regina is feeling threatened by Emma's presence, fearing that she is losing Henry. Now, this is important because, based on this theory, why isn't Mr. Gold incarcerated when the clock starts up again? This story will answer that question.

~Also, there is some debate as to the Storybrooke history of the characters. Some people think that they've been living their false back stories for the past 28 years, while others disagree, saying that they're just kind of wandering around Storybrooke not knowing their past. Even Henry, in the second episode, said that they don't remember their pasts, and that if you ask them anything, it's all just a haze to them. However, the show has proven to us that they at least know some things, things that explain their current situation. For instance, Ashley knows that a deal has been brokered for Mr. Gold to take her baby, though the circumstances are, of course, different in Storybrooke. I feel that Henry certainly should have noticed if nothing ever changed, nobody ever grew any older. It would cement his fairy tale theory. Also, given that he has clearly aged in Storybrooke, he definitely would have noticed if he was the only kid in school who ever progressed to the next grade at the end of the school year. It may be that they all have only vague memories from further back (possibly anything before the past ten years is vague!) But Paige and Mike know at least certain things about their respective (false) pasts, because those things have some bearing on their current situation.

Now, on to the story itself!

Please enjoy!

In a large and well-appointed palace garden, a young woman sat playing a noisy card game with her six younger brothers. She was a plump yet pretty 23-year-old, with a simple silver tiara perched on her red hair. Her brothers ranged in age from 7 to 16, but only the 14-year-old twins shared her fiery locks. The rest had hair of a rich chestnut color, which matched the hair of one of the two men watching them through a window, though his hair was going to grey beneath his golden crown.

"Such a lovely little family," smirked the king's guest. "Six strapping boys and a pretty little girl. What more could a king ask for," he queried, an almost oily tone underlying the cheerfulness.

"Just keep watching," the king replied tersely as a clock began to strike the hour. Being in the same room with Rumpelstiltskin made his stomach clench, but even the Blue Fairy had been unable to lift the curse. Since he already knew was about to happen, the king stepped away from the window. His heart was old and broken, and he could not bear to watch this time.

"What indeed," murmured Rumpelstiltskin to himself as he turned back to the window, smiling greedily.

The card game seemed to have ended, and even though the window was too high up to catch more than a muted sound of conversation, it was clear that the princess was very sad. She was embracing each of her brothers in turn, while the others stood close by, reaching out to pat her shoulder or her hair comfortingly. Then, upon the sixth and final stroke of the clock, the six princes sprang up into the air while large white feathers fluttered about. When the air cleared, six swans were flying south, and the princess, now alone in the garden, fell to the ground weeping.

"Yes," mused Rumpelstiltskin, "I see your problem."

"What must be done to lift this curse? Please," the word nearly stuck in the king's throat. "Please, I will do anything."

Rumpelstiltskin turned away from the window, his fingers steepled together in front of him. "There is nothing you can do to save them." He paused a moment to watch the king's face fall. "But she can." Though he tilted his head to indicate the window he had just left, his eyes remained on the king's face.

"How? What must she do?"

"I can help you find your solution – for a price."

"I understand." His daughter's face flashed into his mind. "But I want to be the one to pay the price, not her."

"Well, since all I can do for you is to give you a spell to call the one who can help her, I think that seems fair. Besides, you will be the one who has to perform the spell, so it is only fitting that you should pay. However," Rumpelstiltskin cautioned, "once the spell takes effect, I cannot guarantee the girl's safety."

"What is the price for your information?" The king wanted nothing more than to conclude this deal quickly and get this distasteful little man out of his castle.

"Oho, so quick to make a deal that could very well lead to your daughter's gruesome death! Are you so eager to get your sons back that you would throw the girl's life away?" Rumpelstiltskin chuckled, a sound full of malicious merriment. "For let me tell you this, o king. If your daughter dies, it will be because she has failed. And if she fails," Rumpelstiltskin said with an exaggerated shrug, "why, then, all of your children would be lost to you." In a sing-songy tone, Rumpelstiltskin taunted, "Lost, lost, for all of time!"

The king sank down on his throne, pressing his hands to his face. "I don't want to lose her too! But at least if she died I could bury her and move on with my life. That's the worst part of this curse, for three years I've had only one hour each day with my sons, and that only until they must migrate for the year." The king made a strangled sound as he tried to choke back a sob. "If there is any hope, even the remotest chance, I must explore it! I could no sooner turn my back on my sons than I could plunge a dagger into my daughter's heart. As long as that is not the price, I will pay it."

"The price, o king, is total separation. Never knowing how they fare, if they are cold or hungry, warm or joyful, or if they even still live. Uncertainty – that is the price you must pay."

The king's face went ashen. "My sons," he croaked, his eyes wide and filling with horrified tears. "Oh, my boys!"

"All of them," snapped Rumpelstiltskin triumphantly, "the girl as well!"

"No!" cried the king in despair. "All of them? For how long?"

"Until the curse is broken. Or forever, should the girl fail."

"You mean die," moaned the king. His heart, already broken, seemed to be shattering into dust.

"No, no, no. You weren't listening," admonished Rumpelstiltskin, shaking his finger at the king. "You see, there is a magical place in the woods yonder, a large copse of trees with three great nails at its center. Your daughter must be chained to those nails and left there alone, whilst you return to the stone alter you will pass along the path to the copse. Not to worry, o king, you will be within shouting distance of the girl. You will perform the spell I give you, following my exact instructions, and poof! The only one who can help her lift this curse shall appear! Then it will be up to her whether she lives or dies. And while her death will mean her failure, dying is not the only way to fail."

Sensing a frail thread of hope, the king leaned forward eagerly. "What do you mean?"

"She may survive her encounter with the one you will summon and learn what must be done to release her brothers, but she may yet prove unable to meet the requirements, in which case she will still be alive, but still – a – failure."

The king sat for a moment with a haunted expression on his face, staring at nothing. Then he looked up at his strange guest. "Will I at least know if she survives this… encounter?"

"Hmm." Rumpelstiltskin pondered for a moment. "That much can be arranged," he said finally. "But after that, you will never again hear anything of your children unless the girl succeeds."

"Then I agree. I'll sign." The king stared expectantly at Rumpelstiltskin.

"Not so fast, o king. There's no point in making this deal if the girl refuses to comply. Why don't you send for her," Rumpelstiltskin suggested, an all-too-knowing gleam in his eye.

The king hesitated. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid. He was ashamed to have his daughter know that he had stooped this low, that he had gone to the one person he had sworn he would never seek out for help. But he knew, deep down, that he could never live with himself if he let his pride stand in the way.

"Well, if there's no deal to be made, I'll just be on my way, then," Rumpelstiltskin threatened gaily, turning to walk away.

"No! Wait!" But his impish guest kept moving toward the throne room's massive double doors as if he hadn't heard. The king ran, passing Rumpelstiltskin and tearing open one of the heavy doors. "Send for my daughter immediately," he cried to the soldiers, pages, and other attendants who had been made to wait in the corridor during the king's audience with Rumpelstiltskin. Then he stood in front of the door, letting it fall shut behind him as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I've sent for her, please don't go."

A long moment passed before Rumpelstiltskin finally replied, "Very well," shrugging as if it were of no consequence whether or not he made this deal. He leisurely strolled back to the window and looked out, where already a page was urgently trying to pull the princess to her feet.

A lovely old jewelry box cradled in his free arm, Mr. Gold limped out of his office in the back of his pawn shop. He was leaning rather heavily on his cane; he knew he had over-exerted himself today. As he reached the counter and set the jewelry box down, a young woman of 24 maneuvered herself and a large, rather heavy box through the door to the back room. She was little on the heavy side herself, but still pretty. As his only employee, Mr. Gold insisted that she dress nicely, in black dress slacks and a button-down dress shirt. Today's shirt had three-quarter-length sleeves and was a dark shade of green that complimented her red hair nicely.

"Ah, Paige," he said, "just set that box on the table in that corner there." He raised his hand, indicating the proper corner.

Paige placed the box on the table and took the lid off. Before she could remove the item list taped to the inside of the box lid, Mr. Gold interrupted her. "That's alright, Paige. Actually, I'd like to send you home a bit early today." He smiled. "Inventory seems like a lot of work for what little result it yields. And besides," he added, indicating his bad leg, "you've certainly done the lion's share of the work."

Oh, are you sure? Mr. Gold noted that Paige's hands were still a little uncertain at times, but she was actually getting quite good at sign language. The clock chimed for the half hour – half past three to be exact, which meant there was still an hour and a half left in her usual shift.

"Ah, don't worry," joked Mr. Gold, "there'll be plenty more inventory for tomorrow. You go ahead home."

Thank you, Paige signed, still seeming a bit uncertain. She stepped into Mr. Gold's office to collect her purse and jacket. While she was gone, Mr. Gold opened the cash register and took out a twenty dollar bill, taking care to note its removal in his ledger.

When Paige reappeared, he offered her the money and a folded slip of paper that he removed from the breast pocket of his suit. "Paige, on the way home, be a dove, won't you, and pick up these cleaning supplies? I noticed we're running low."

Can't you just call the store and have these things delivered here? Paige asked before taking the list and the money.

"Normally I would, but with you leaving early, I thought you might like an excuse to surprise your young man at work." Mr. Gold glanced at the clock. "You should have time to make it there before his shift is over." Without giving Paige a chance to respond, he said, "Have a good afternoon, then. I'll see you in the morning."

As soon as Paige had signed her goodbye and left the pawn shop, Mr. Gold opened the jewelry box. The smaller trays that lifted out on hinges were empty, but in the larger space at the bottom of the box sat a silver tiara with a sapphire suspended in a diamond-studded heart. Mr. Gold smiled as he marked it down on his inventory sheet.

"This is nice," Mike said. "We should do this more often."

Well, we can't exactly expect Mr. Gold to let me leave early all the time, replied Paige, her hands moving flawlessly through the signs.

"I know. But you don't work for him every day."

"Here you go," exclaimed the waitress, arriving with their pie. "One slice of apple a la mode," which she placed in front of Mike, "and one slice of blueberry with whipped cream." Her smile faltered a bit as Paige made the sign to thank her.

"She says 'Thank you'," Mike explained.

"Oh, you're welcome hon!" Her composure regained, the waitress made sure to direct that comment to Paige. Then she asked both of them, "Is there anything else I can get for you two? Refills on your hot chocolate maybe?"

Paige signed something to Mike.

"Ah, no refills, thanks, but could she get a glass of water, please?"

"Oh, that'll be no trouble at all. Back in a tick!" The waitress walked away, stopping for a moment to check on the only other customer in the diner at this hour before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Paige," Mike asked. "You seem kind of down today."

Oh, I'm just tired, I guess," she signed, faltering slightly. Inventory seems to mean a lot of heavy lifting, and I guess I'm just not used to that much physical labor.

The waitress had returned with Paige's water. Mike smiled and thanked her, reassuring her that there was really nothing else they needed just now. She smiled and walked away.

Mike turned back to Paige. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Yeah, I mean, usually I'm just cleaning, you know? Tidying, dusting, sweeping and mopping. Today was just a lot more strenuous, that's all.

"Well, maybe this pie will cheer you up. I know how much you love blueberries."

They each took a heaping forkful of pie.

This is so good! Paige exclaimed, putting down her fork to sign. Her mouth was still full of pie. I haven't had blueberry pie this good in forever!

"Yeah, they sure know how to make pie here, don't they," Mike replied.

Paige started to sign something else when a voice cut into their conversation.

"Well, if it isn't Michael Cochran," Ruby exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in a while!" Her face turned to Paige. "Oh, you have a girlfriend now? You were so shy and reserved in high school!" She spoke to Paige now, her voice slightly lowered in a mock confession. "You know, every girl in my freshman class had a crush on him. He was a senior, good looking, wasn't a jerk like the rest of the senior boys. But he was way too shy to talk to girls back then, even freshman girls!" Ruby laughed. "Ashley and I had a bet going on. Guess I've got to pay up, now, 'cause my bet was that he would never work up the guts to ask a girl out, and that he'd end up an old bachelor!" She glanced teasingly at Mike, who looked rather embarrassed, before telling Paige, "You sure are a lucky girl… I'm sorry, what's your name?"

Mike answered, "Oh, sorry, I should have introduced you. Ruby, this is Paige. Paige, Ruby."

"So nice to meet you, Paige!"

Nice to meet you, signed Paige.

Ruby looked confused, but just as Mike started translating, she gasped and said, "Oh! You're the girl who can't speak, right? We had to do a project about an old news story in my junior history class, and I got yours!" Suddenly she realized what she had just said. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have blurted it out like that. I didn't mean to be so rude."

Oh, that's ok, signed Paige, even though Ruby had upset her a bit. I get that kind of thing all the time.

Mike translated for Ruby, who could see that Paige was bothered.

"I still shouldn't have said it. I always get upset when people make stupid comments to my friend Ashley. See, she's pregnant, and her boyfriend just dropped her like a hot potato when he found out. She's only 19, and, you know, I really hate when people judge her. I'm really, really sorry."

No, Paige signed, smiling now. Don't worry about it. Seriously. I know you didn't mean anything by it.

At Mike's translation, Ruby smiled, still feeling like a complete jerk. "Well, if there's ever anything I can do for you, just let me know, ok?"

Paige nodded.

"Alright, well, I should go, my shift's about to start. See you guys later!" Ruby turned to walk into the kitchen. "Oh, and enjoy your pie," she called over her shoulder.

"She seems like a nice girl, but I don't really remember her that well," said Mike. "At least I remembered her name, though."

Well, she did say you were a senior and she was a freshman. Paige thought for a moment. I'm not sure the math on that works out, though. I mean, I assume she's 19 like her friend Ashley, and you're 25… So you guys couldn't have been in high school at the same time, could you?

Mike shrugged, a little embarrassed to admit this. "Actually, I got held back twice. When I was in second grade, my dad died, and my mom just kind of… stopped caring about anything for a while. My brother was in his first year of high school, and it was just too much for him to handle, trying to take care of both me and our mom. He didn't go to school, and he didn't like to leave Mom alone to walk me to school."

I had no idea, I'm so sorry. Paige took his hand in a reassuring gesture.

"It's ok, my mom pulled herself together, started seeing Dr. Hopper. She got better. Better than she had been, anyway. And, yeah, we both had to repeat that year, but we were just happy to have our mom back." He paused for a moment to collect himself. "Then when I was a senior the first time around, I got mono and missed a lot of school. I tried studying on my own, but I didn't score high enough on the tests, so I had to repeat the year. It was really awkward, I felt like some old man or something. I didn't really have any friends, they all graduated the year before."

Well, you certainly made an impression on Ruby and this friend of hers, Ashley, signed Paige, trying to lighten the mood.

Mike laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?"

As they went up to the counter to pay their bill, Dr. Hopper rushed in. When he saw the sheriff, who was the only other patron at the diner at 4:30 on a weekday afternoon, he hurried over, calling, "Sheriff!"

"What's up, Archie," Graham asked.

"The mayor needs to see you, right away. She tried calling your cell phone, but you weren't answering, and she's really upset right now…" Archie would have continued babbling if Graham hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Hold on, Archie, just calm down. I left my phone in the car while I came in for some pie. Now, what happened to upset the mayor?"

"It's Henry. He never showed up for our session this afternoon, and he didn't go home, either. No one knows where he's at."

"Alright, let me just pay up, and I'll be on my way. Where's Regina?"

"She's at her house. She thought that maybe he'd show up there eventually."

The sheriff walked up to the counter, reaching it just as Mike finished paying.

As the waitress took the sheriff's money, Mike said, "Hey, I hope you find him, Sheriff."

"Thanks," Graham answered, handing back his change as the tip. "But honestly, it's not even dinner time yet. You know how mothers get. Henry may have just forgotten the time."

"That's not like him at all," Archie asserted.

"Well, he hasn't been gone very long yet, so I wouldn't worry too much. Maybe they had an argument, and he's just trying to punish her. If he doesn't come home by dark, that's when we'll start to worry." Graham smiled reassuringly, but there was a hint of concern on his face as he left the diner.

I hope he's right, Paige signed, but Mike and Dr. Hopper were staring after the sheriff and didn't see it.

"And once the contract is signed, I will give your father the details of the spell," Rumpelstiltskin finished, a cunning smile on his face.

Without addressing herself to her father's guest, the princess said, "Sign it, Father. I will do what is necessary."

Rumpelstiltskin produced the contract with a delighted flourish, along with a quill dyed the exact same purplish hue of his shirt. He handed his quill to the king, but before he spread out the contract, a thought seemed to occur to him. "Ah, one tiny little detail, I must've overlooked it," he said, leering at the king's daughter. "When the girl is chained to the nails, she must be naked."

"You filthy little wretch," cried the king, throwing the quill at his guest. He started to rage at Rumpelstiltskin, making unkind implications as to Rumpelstiltskin's parentage.

"It is an essential part of the spell. If the girl is clothed, the spell can not be enacted," the little man sneered contemptuously.

"Father!" cried the girl, taking hold of the king's arm. "Calm yourself." She turned to Rumpelstiltskin, saying, "And you can guarantee that this is the only way to discover how I might save my brothers?"

"That's right, dearie,"

"Your word, Rumpelstiltskin," she insisted. "You thrive on your deals, and although everyone fears and despises you, all know that you keep your word, else no one would ever again sign your contracts."

Rumpelstiltskin gave her an obsequious smile, bowing slightly as he replied, "I give you my solemn word, princess. If any other way existed, your father would surely have found it by now."

"Then I will do it." At her father's distressed face, she said, "Father, I know how hard this is going to be for you, but you had already decided to pay his price. If you can sacrifice so much, how could I do any less and still be able to face you?"

"Very well," replied the king, cupping his precious daughter's face in one hand, looking into her eyes. Then he turned to Rumpelstiltskin, who had retrieved his quill while the princess was convincing her father. "I will sign," the king said tightly.

"So touching," remarked the little man dryly, grimacing. Then, with a grandiose flourish, he spread the contract across an ornate table along a wall of the throne room. "Here you go," he said, handing his quill back to the king, who stood for a moment, trembling, before bending down to sign. "Ah!" Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed delightedly, watching the ink glisten wetly as it flowed from the quill.

"There," said the king, handing the quill back to the vile little man, whose ecstatic expression sickened the king. "Now tell me what I have to do."

"Such touching hospitality you show, o king," Rumpelstiltskin said, a hint of hostility showing through. "Come aside, there is no need for the girl to hear the details." As they walked away, Eliza could hear Rumpelstiltskin telling her father, "Now remember, this spell is quite powerful. It will pull your only hope from a cruel imprisonment, so everything must be exact!"

While the king was receiving his instruction, the princess spoke to a page, who nodded several times as he listened, then darted swiftly away. It was several minutes before the page returned, handing the princess a small flask of the kind which always seems to contain some potent liqueur.

Tucking the flask into her belt pouch, the princess settled herself down on a well-crafted chair that sat beside the throne, still on the king's dais, but designed to hold its occupant lower than the king himself. As the minutes stretched on, the princess rearranged herself, more lounging than sitting. Although she tried, she felt anything but patient.

Finally, the king and his guest returned to where the princess hastily stood up and tried to arrange her skirts and hair so that it didn't look as though she had been unable to sit still. Her father's eyes were full of sorrow, and her heart went out to him, but she did not want to fling herself into his arms and cry with him until Rumpelstiltskin was gone.

The impish man stood expectantly, but as the moments continued to pass, he queried, "It is the dinner hour, is it not? It would be quite impolite not to invite a guest to dine with you, especially when you specifically asked him to arrive practically at supper-time."

The king closed his eyes, frustrated and annoyed by the little man's constant jibes. He was spared answering, though, when his daughter spoke up.

"There will be no meal in this castle until tomorrow's supper. It has become our custom to eat a light meal before my brothers arrive for their last visit of the year, and then to fast for a day." She took the flask out of her belt pouch. "Instead, I would offer you this."

"Eliza!" cried the king. "That isn't our –"

"Yes, Father," she interrupted. "But he is a guest in our house, at your invitation." She felt it was cruel to remind her father of that; he was already in enough pain. But it was too late to take back the words, and besides, she knew her father would regret it if he gave his undesirable guest any excuse to cast aspersions on their family. "Unless you would rather invite him to stay until tomorrow's supper?" She saw exactly what she had expected in her father's eyes. "I thought not. Besides, I'm sure Rumpelstiltskin has better things to do than to laze about our castle for a whole day." She held the flask out to the little man, holding it by one edge so he wouldn't have any excuse to touch her.

Taking the flask gingerly, a crafty smile came over Rumpelstiltskin's face. "Seems like such a small token. And how do I know it's not been poisoned?"

"I will not have you impugn my daughter's honor in my very household," cried the king.

Eliza put a hand on his arm, once again forestalling his anger. "Father," she said gently, before turning back to Rumpelstiltskin. "You should know better than anyone that appearances can be deceiving. That flask is enchanted, so that it will never weigh more than a full flask of that size ever should, and yet it carries a full barrel of our kingdom's celebrated blueberry brandy. To be more specific, that is the last cask of our very best year. It is a gift beyond value, to show our gratitude for your assistance. And I will prove that it is pure and untainted," she finished, hold out her hand.

Rumpelstiltskin reached out his free hand, cupping it underneath Eliza's waiting hand before returning the flask, caressing her hand tenderly before letting her take her hand back. His eyes remained on her face, watching her suppress the revulsion and strive to maintain her composure. To her credit, her face only twitched slightly, but Rumpelstiltskin's devious smile deepened as he witnessed her discomfort.

Eliza uncapped the flask and took a long swallow of the brandy, savoring not just its taste, but the potency that would, if she drank enough brandy, drown out her disgust with this whole situation. Instead of continuing to drink, however, she replaced the cap, comforting herself with the knowledge that Rumpelstiltskin would soon be gone, and she would never again have to feel the weight of his leering eyes.

"Here," she said, handing the flask back to the smirking little man. His smirk deepened into a mocking smile as she jerked her hand back quickly to prevent him from catching hold of it again. He opened the cap, ostentatiously licking the outside of the flask's neck. His eyes were locked onto Eliza's, who couldn't help but realize that her lips had just been touching that part of the flask.

"Yummy," he said, his voice full of insinuations. He giggled maniacally as she stepped away from him, repulsed. After taking his own long swig of the brandy, Rumpelstiltskin merrily announced, "Well, I must be on my way, then; duty calls. So many unfortunate souls, with no one else to turn to!" And with a flourish and a bow, Rumpelstiltskin set off to answer the plea of a king whose brave "son" would no longer be slaying any dragons…

"I know you're in there, you trollop! You can't hide from me!" The woman's eyes were crazed, and her hair, half in rollers, was sticking out wildly in spots. She was only in her fifties, but looked older. "Michael," she shrieked. "Michael Eugene Cochran! You get that witch off my property before I disown you!" She listened for a moment, but when no response was made, she hammered even harder at the door. "Michael! If you're in there consorting with that Jezebel, I'll see you burn in Hell for it!"

Inside, Paige was in the upstairs hallway of her half of Michael's duplex, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Mike knelt in front of her, wiping away her tears.

What have I ever to done to deserve this?

"Nothing. You haven't done anything, Paige. My mom just…hasn't been the same since Dad died. I wish I knew why she was so against you, but I swear to you, you've done nothing wrong."

It just hurts so much to hear her screaming those things. Even Paige's sobs were nearly silent, with no more sound than that of her ragged breathing. But you should go. Take her home, calm her down. I'll be okay, I promise.

"I can't leave you here overnight. That's part of the agreement for you to live here, that I'm only just through that wall at night."

You can't just leave her out there all night.

"And if I have to sit with her all night? Or even for a few days? What then? If the council ever found out, they might revoke their permission for you to live on your own, and I know how hard you worked for that. So did Mr. Gold. Is that how you would repay his kindness, by breaking the deal he made for you?" A sudden thought occurred to Mike. "That's it! When Mr. Gold addressed the council on your behalf, he said that if there was ever any reason I couldn't be here for you, he could come and stay in your guest room!"

Oh, no, signed Paige, but Mike, shifting so he could get his cell phone out of his pocket without falling over, didn't see it.

"I'll find out if he can stay with you tonight."

Paige tapped Mike's hand to get his attention before he could open his phone. I don't think we should bother him with this. I mean, I know I'm beat from inventory, and with his bad leg, he's probably feeling even worse.

"Don't be silly. After all he's done for you, how can you think he'd leave you alone at a time like this?" Mike stroked Paige's cheek gently. "Don't worry about a thing."

Mike stepped into the back bedroom to make the call. Paige could hear him explaining the situation to Mr. Gold. She wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing as silently as ever. She could still hear Mrs. Cochran ranting at her front door.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," came the dire scream. "If you've hurt that little boy, the mayor will see to it that you rot in jail until Satan comes to claim your filthy soul!" The sound faded a bit and the pounding stopped, as if Mrs. Cochran had turned away from the door. "Sheriff! If you're looking for the mayor's boy, he's in there! That witch is going to kill him for some evil spell!" Then the volume rose a bit as she turned back to pound on the door again. "You devil-spawn, release that boy, and release my son, as well! I won't let you have either of them, you Delilah! You wicked temptress!" Paige's mantle clock chimed nine o'clock, but even that sound wasn't enough to drown out Mrs. Cochran's mad accusations.

Paige jumped when Mike put a hand on her shoulder. "Mr. Gold is on his way. Listen, you're okay with this, right? I mean, it kind of feels like I'm abandoning you.

Paige looked up at Mike, her face tearstained. You're so good to me, she signed, smiling. How could I not be okay with this? You always take care of me, but right now, you've got your mother to worry about. I'll be fine.

Mike knelt down again and pulled Paige into a hug. "You deserve so much more than this."

When he had pulled back, Paige signed, I wish you liked girls. That would be just about perfect.

"I know. And listen, I'm really sorry I didn't correct Ruby this afternoon. When she called you my girlfriend? I was just – surprised, and kind of embarrassed at the things she was saying. I just kind of panicked."

Don't apologize for that. Everyone makes that assumption. Even Mr. Gold. He called you my 'young man' today. I didn't correct him, either. She paused for a moment, looking down. You know, Mike, if you want me to be your cover… I mean, I know you don't want anyone to know until you're one hundred percent sure, so, until then, if you just want to keep letting people think that we're…a couple – I'd be okay with that.

Mike hugged her again, so hard she wondered how she could still breathe. "Paige," he whispered in her ear, getting emotional, "you're the best friend a guy could have. I don't know how I got so lucky." He pulled back so he could look her in the eyes. "But I know you have feelings for me. Don't shake your head at me, I can tell. So promise me something: if it ever becomes too much for you, if it hurts too much to pretend? Just tell me. We'll figure something out, okay?"

Paige nodded, and Mike settled down on the floor next to her, holding her as she wept, and as his mother continued pounding on the door and screaming.

Mr. Gold strode up the steps onto the porch. Mrs. Cochran turned, exclaiming, "Oh, praise be, someone finally heard me. Please, Mr. Gold, you have got to stop her!"

"Don't worry about a thing, Mrs. Cochran, I'll take care of it."

"Send my boy out, before that Jezebel twists his mind."

"I'll send him out straightaway, dear, not to worry." Mr. Gold smiled reassuringly.

"And I hope it's not too late for the mayor's little boy. I hope you find him." Mrs. Cochran seemed comforted by Mr. Gold's presence, as if she expected him to solve the problem.

"The mayor's – you mean Henry?" Mr. Gold was a bit taken aback; Mike hadn't taken the time to explain what exactly his mother believed of Paige this time. Everyone knew Mrs. Cochran hated Paige and believed her to be a witch, but this was the first time she had accused the mute young woman of kidnapping.

"That's right. She's going to kill him so she can summon the devil himself. Wants to consort with the leader of the demons now, I wouldn't doubt it." Mrs. Cochran folded her arms across her chest and glared up at the house.

"If I find young Henry in there, I'll send him home to his mother." With an effort, Mr. Gold managed to keep a straight face when he said that.

"Where he belongs! Now, get on with you, you've got a witch to face." She watched as Mr. Gold pulled his keys from his pocket and, selecting the correct one, unlocked the door. "Maybe I should come with you. I'll get my boy out, and you'll be able to focus on the witch and that poor child."

Mr. Gold put out his hand to stop her from coming closer to the door. "Don't you worry yourself about me. I can handle this. It's better if you stay here; I'll send Michael out before you know it."

Hearing a key in the lock, Mike went down to meet Mr. Gold. "Thank you so much for coming, sir. Paige told me you were doing inventory today. I hope your leg isn't bothering you too much."

"What, this old thing," joked Mr. Gold, indicating his leg. "Just like with anything else, some days are better than others." In a more serious tone, he continued, "I'll be fine. I'm glad to stay with Paige for you. I know that your mother behaving like this can't be easy for you. You go on, I'll take good care of Paige."

Paige listened as Mike left, his mother crying in relief. She could hear Mr. Gold moving around in her kitchen. A small part of her wondered what he could be doing, but mostly she was too emotionally drained to really care. Then she heard him limping carefully up the steps.

"Oh, you poor thing," he said when he saw her sitting in the hallway, a few last tears running down her face. With an obvious effort, he maneuvered himself down to sit by her, setting his cane and something else aside to pull out his handkerchief. "There, now. What a lot of nonsense," he said softly, wiping her tears. When he was done, he picked up the bowl of chocolate ice cream he had brought up the stairs. "I thought you might need this. I didn't know if you had any in your freezer, so I picked it up on my way here."

Looking at Mr. Gold almost distrustfully, Paige began mechanically spooning ice cream into her mouth. By the time she was finished, she did feel a little better.

I should take this downstairs and wash it, she signed, standing up. And then I think I'll go to bed early.

"Help me up, first, dear," said Mr. Gold, shifting his weight and reaching for his cane. Paige reluctantly set aside the empty bowl. Getting him back on his feet proved to be a difficult task, and ended with them standing face to face, practically in each other's arms. Paige stepped hurriedly away, looking uncomfortable as she snatched up the bowl and practically ran down the stairs.

As Paige washed the bowl and spoon, placing them in the drainer with the ice cream scoop, Mr. Gold stood in the hallway and smiled, a sly, cunning expression fit to send chills down the spine.

It had taken over a year for the king to acquire everything he needed for the spell; Eliza was now 24. He had left everything at the stone alter to accompany his daughter to the copse. The great nails rose nearly seven feet into the air, with no way to be sure how deeply they were driven into the ground. A chain was attached to each nail, two ending with one manacle, and the other with a pair of manacles, of a slightly smaller size as they were meant for wrists. The nails formed an equilateral triangle. Eliza couldn't help but shudder as she saw how far apart her legs would be extended. She knew that just lying there in those chains would be painful.

"Are you sure you can do this," her father asked, seeing her expression.

"I'm so afraid, Father," she cried, flinging herself into his arms and burying her face in his doublet for a moment. Then, mastering her emotions, she lifted her head and looked her father in the eye. "But I can't let my fear come before my brothers. You didn't."

"Your mother would be so proud of you," the king said, trying not to cry.

Eliza clung to her father for what might be the last time. "Alright, Father, let's do this quickly. I can't bear to drag it out."

The king couldn't stop crying as he made his way back to the stone alter, carrying his daughter's garments with him. Fortunately, the path was clear and easy to follow, so he did not lose his way.

"Eliza?" he called in a rough voice, testing Rumpelstiltskin's claim that he would be within shouting distance.

Her voice came back to him, distant but still readily understandable. "I hear you, Father!" After a brief pause, he heard her shout, "Do the spell, Father. I'm ready."

He knew she could never really be ready to face whatever horror was in store for her, but he admired her bravery. She must get that from her mother¸ he thought, never once considering his own actions brave.

Following Rumpelstiltskin's instructions to the letter, he mixed ingredients and strewed the results across the altar in the prescribed manner. When he spoke the words given him, they seemed to blur his head, like standing next to a large bell as it tolled. He began to fear that he would lose his hearing. But when he was finished, and a bright light flashed in the copse of trees, the king could still hear the gentle sounds that a forest makes when some intrusion silences the wary animals.

A flash of blinding light forced Eliza to close her eyes. When it was over, she could hear the sound of footsteps, but upon opening her eyes, she found she couldn't see yet. She blinked rapidly, hoping it would help her eyes to adjust faster. When she could see again, she looked around fearfully.

"You!" she exclaimed, spying Rumpelstiltskin standing nearby. Her voice was thick with shock and a hint of anger.

Rumpelstiltskin extended his calf in an overly exquisite mockery of a courtly bow. "Me!" he cried delightedly.

"Where is the one who can help me? What about your word, you foul creature?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Rumpelstiltskin shook an admonishing finger at her. "I am the one that can help you. But I needed a way to ensure that the best part of me would be free at a certain… auspicious time. You see," he said, taking on an air of false sadness, "even this spell, powerful as it is, cannot entirely free me. My shadow is left languishing in a filthy, nasty cell." In more normal tones he continued. "But that matters not. As long as I am mostly free, it will translate in my favor." He smiled down at Eliza, who struggled in her chains. "But enough about me, dearie, let's talk about you."

"You have already made a mockery of my father, I will not let you do the same to me." Her face was a savage mask.

"Oh! Such a fierce little girl! And how do you intend to prevent me from doing anything? You're all chained up, princess!" he exclaimed, as if he were surprised to discover it.

She gave a sound that was half defiant scream, and half sob.

"Would you like me to tell you what you want to know?" Rumpelstiltskin's tone was self-congratulatory.

"Tell me."

"You have to say…please!"

Eliza gritted her teeth for a moment. "Please, tell me what must be done."

"If you want to save your brothers, princess, you have to gather nettles, and pound them until there's nothing left but fibers. These fibers must then be spun into yarn, which you must use to knit each of them a sweater. This is the only thing that will break the spell." Rumpelstiltskin laughed. "Oh, and, by the way, dearie, you have only six years to complete this task. And you must not make a sound until you're finished. Not a cry nor a laugh, and certainly not a single word."

Overwhelmed, Eliza gaped. Then a thought occurred to her. "What if I get sick? Catch a cold? That will be the end of my hope?"

"No, no, if you're sick, you can't control your coughing or sneezing, or clearing your throat. Those are considered…involuntary noises. It is intentional vocalizations that are forbidden. Includes things like, oh, screaming in pain, or laughing at a joke, that sort of thing. You must make no sound louder than that of a gentle wind whispering through the trees."

"So silence? That is the price I must pay?"

"Nonsense. That's no price, it's merely a part of releasing the spell." A huge creature with the head of a bull stepped into the copse. "The price is something far more cherished." Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Your maidenhead." At the sight of Eliza's horrified face, he laughed. He knelt next to her. "I ask for your purity, dearie. And you get to make a choice. The Minotaur," Rumpelstiltskin indicated the creature, "or me." He leaned in closer as if telling a secret. "By the way, there will be a child whomever you choose. That is, should you survive his attentions. I'm told he gets very hungry after sating his…other needs, and here you are, all trussed up and looking so…" here Rumpelstiltskin leaned down and gave her arm a long, slow lick before continuing, "tasty."

Eliza shuddered at the thought of either one of them touching her.

"And of course, if you fail in your task, you'll belong to me for the rest of your life. I can't have you wandering around where your father might get word of you." Eliza began to weep quietly. "Now, I know this is a lot to take in, princess, but you need to put some thought into – "

"You," Eliza said softly, the weeping already subsiding.

"What's that?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

"I choose you."

"A bit louder, if you please."

Eliza spoke louder. "I choose you."

"Say my name, dearie." An impish grin wreathed his face as he savored her discomfort.

"I choose you, Rumpelstiltskin." Anger darkened Eliza's cheeks as she watched the Minotaur turn and lope away. She knew Rumpelstiltskin was only doing this because she had sworn she wouldn't let him mock her. "Now let's get it over with so I can get started. I have a lot of work to do."

"There's just a bit more to it than that, dearie."

"What else could you possibly want?"

Placing a forefinger to his chin, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Well, let's see." He pretended to think for a minute, tapping his chin. "Ah! For the duration of our agreement, and in perpetuity should you fail, you may express no ill of me. To anyone. Not in writing, not by gesture, not in any way at all." He smiled, almost triumphantly.

Eliza considered for a moment. "No."

"No?" Rumpelstiltskin's voice held a note of warning. There was still a smile on his face, but it took on a decidedly sinister aspect.

"You've already got the better end of the deal. You get your result immediately, but I must labor for six years with no guarantee of mine." Her tone was determined, but the sudden quickening of her breath gave away her apprehension. So far as she knew, no one had ever said no to any part of their bargain with Rumpelstiltskin. His smile had become a tight snarl. Eliza could tell that he was unaccustomed to being defied like this.

"Well, if you won't sign the contract," he began, advancing toward her in a predatory manner.

Eliza cut him off. "I propose that we add something to my end of the bargain."

Rumpelstiltskin stopped, nearly close enough to bend down and touch her. "What is it you want, dearie?"

"The same thing you want. You can express no ill of me to anyone, by any means, for the duration of our contract. And," she paused to recall Rumpelstiltskin's wording as exactly as she could. "And in perpetuity if I should succeed."

Rumpelstiltskin's eyebrow lifted. He looked at Eliza as if she done something mildly interesting, but possibly also quite annoying. "Hmm," he mused. After a long pause he spoke again. "Very well, then. You shall have your…addition." Pulling out the parchment, all it took was a mere glance from him and the contract was amended.

Moving to where her hands were chained, he knelt on one knee and placed the contract across his thigh, then cocked his head and made an amused noise before turning it upside so Eliza would be able to sign, craning her neck to look between her shackled arms.

"Now remember, princess, not a sound," Rumpelstiltskin reminded Eliza, grinning wickedly.

Some time later, Eliza lay trying not to scream as she was violently molested. Bite marks covered her body, some bleeding slightly. Suddenly, Rumpelstiltskin raised his head and cackled gleefully. "The curse!" He shouted, still lying atop the princess' bound form.

Sunset was rapidly approaching. A narrow, advancing finger of some indefinable darkness swept over them as he reached his peak, and when it touched them, they disappeared.

The king had paced and waited, waited and paced, anxious to know what was happening. Right at the beginning, he thought he had heard a noise coming from the copse, almost a scream, but it was not repeated, and the phrase they had decided upon to mean that Eliza wanted her father to come rescue her never came. Finally, what seemed like days later, the foremost edge of the sun touched the horizon. Now, he could go back. As much as he wanted to see his daughter, to know that she was safe, he prayed the copse would be empty. That, Rumpelstiltskin had said, would be his sign.

Reaching the edge of the copse, he stopped, suddenly terrified. Then he rushed in so fast that he tripped and fell heavily to the ground. Without bothering to rise, he twisted his neck to look at the nails. No one was there! Relief mingled with sadness as a dark shadow that the king had been too preoccupied to notice rolled over him.

As Mr. Gold was locking up his pawnshop, his cell phone rang. The name that came up was Michael C. Mr. Gold smiled deviously as he answered. "Michael? Is everything alright?" He listed for a moment.

"No, no, that's no problem at all."

Mike spoke on the other end of the line.

"I understand."

Again he listened.

"Don't worry about a thing. I just have one little errand to run before I head over there. I can be with her in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes."

Mike spoke again.

"Oh, you're quite welcome. I enjoy Paige's company, and spending time with her at home reminds me of old times."

There was another pause while Mr. Gold listened to Mike.

"Well, you just focus on your mother. Make sure she understands that young Henry returned home quite late last night, unharmed."

Mr. Gold listened one last time.

"I will. Good night, Michael." Mr. Gold ended the call and made his way to Granny's Bed and Breakfast, where he was not entirely surprised to find a stranger asking for a room.

"Emma," he repeated, "what a lovely name."

Mr. Gold was getting out a towel and washcloth when he heard the clock in the square chime for the first time in memory. A sly smile slowly came across his face. He leaned into the tub and turned the shower on. It was a good night, a very good night, indeed.

Paige sat up against the head of her bed, wearing nothing but a sheet tucked under her armpits. She was staring at nothing, and though her eyes had filled with tears, none had yet fallen.

Suddenly, she realized that the clock in town was chiming. Her first reaction was a sharp intake of breath. She jumped when the shower started running in the next room, then put a hand to her stomach.

A few notes:

The flask Eliza gives Rumpelstiltskin is intended to be the same flask we see him drinking from when he goes to convince James to play the part of the dragon-slaying prince in "The Shepherd." It is also intended to be the flask he finishes up and tosses aside when he goes to meet Cinderella in "The Price of Gold" when she and Thomas have set the trap for him. **I do not know if ABC has any plans for tying the flask together with anything else. These intentions are mine and mine alone.**

**Also, I am uncertain as to ABC's exact timeline, but if we assume that Rumpelstiltskin goes off to kill the Fairy Godmother within a month after delivering James to the king, and we also assume that within about 2 months Cinderella and Thomas are married and expecting (let's face it, these things move pretty fast in fairy tales; look at Disney's Enchanted, where the prince, upon meeting Giselle, insists upon being married the very next morning), we can say that the span of time between Rumpelstiltskin receiving the flask and finishing it is a span of approximately 10-12 months. (For a whole keg of brandy? Not too shabby, since I can't see Rumpelstiltskin ever getting drunk – he would always want to be in complete control of his actions.) This, of course, is also assuming that Cinderella is about 7 months pregnant when she traps Rumpelstiltskin. Now, if you assume that Rumpelstiltskin has been imprisoned for about two months (since Cinderella is only days away from her delivery when The Curse is enacted), that puts our time frame for Eliza and her father at about 14 to 16 months between the king's deal and Eliza's.**

Finally, Rumpelstiltskin's line about "unfortunate souls" etc. is a deliberate slant quote from Ursula in Disney's The Little Mermaid. It really seemed to fit him, and of course, it fits the show, since we are getting a lot of Disney references already (hardly surprising, since, as I understand it, Disney owns ABC…)