3

Lessons Learned

"What happened next, Papa?" Davina asked, interrupting his narrative briefly.

"You'll see, if you'll hush and let me finish," Bae said, hiding a smirk. He supposed he was lucky she had been still for as long as she had. Most children her age had the attention spans of mayflies. "This next part I learned from Grandpa, he told me what had gone on while I was up in his study, waiting . . ."

Rumplestiltskin surveyed the damage done to the foyer and what appeared to be the kitchen also while still clutching the blue hat in one hand. He could hardly believe his eyes when he'd opened the door and found not only a flood inside his home, but Baelfire wearing the blue hat and conjuring up mischief with it. He would have expected Finn to get into trouble like that, or even Ivy, who had a curious streak about ten miles wide, but not Bae, who was normally an obedient and responsible boy.

He floated into the kitchen, and found Ivy and Finn crouched atop the table. "Are you two all right?" he asked.

"Papa! There was a flood and . . . umm . . ." Ivy began, and Rumple could tell she was trying to cover up Bae's mistake.

"The mops kept washing the floor," Finn interjected.

"Because your brother touched what didn't belong to him," Rumple finished. "Come here, dearies. I can take you all upstairs while I deal with your brother and this mess down here."

Finn and Ivy exchanged uneasy glances and Finn hissed, "Uh oh. I'll bet he ain't gonna be able to sit down till tomorrow morning."

Ivy looked upset. "Papa, he didn't know . . . about magic's price. What . . . what are you going to do to him?"

Rumple frowned. "That's between me and Bae, dearie." He held out his arms and his two younger children ran across the table and hugged him.

As soon as he was touching them, Rumple transported them all upstairs, where there was no flood, and told them to go and play or read quietly in the library while he went dealt with his eldest.

Ivy took Finn's hand and they headed into the library. Rumple wasn't surprised. Whenever Ivy was upset, she sought solace there, among her books and magazines. Finn would most likely play his flute to cheer her up.

The sorcerer turned and walked the opposite way towards his study, heaving a vast sigh of disappointment as he did so. He paused outside the study door, struggling, for the first time in a very long time, to control his temper.

He took several deep breaths, reminding himself that he had vowed long ago, after Milah had left with Hook, to never punish his children in anger. That was not the way a good father behaved, and Rumplestiltskin wanted to be the kind of father his children looked up to, and not one that ruled by intimidation and fear, the way his own had, or Milah had done with Bae as a toddler.

But he was so angry! Baelfire knew better, he wasn't a baby, and Rumple had stressed to each of his children more than once that magic was not something to be played around with. Not only that, but they all knew to never touch the collection of objects in his study without his permission, which he rarely gave.

He gazed down at the blue hat with its silver stars and moons, an object made by the il'Shennara, who called such things Hats of Wonder or Conjure, and considered such a thing commonplace, which it was for a race steeped in magic. Rumple had acquired this one through a trader who made his living peddling exotic magical items, he'd gotten the hat from a wood elf youngster, trading some magic beans for it. Rumple had traded a deck of magical Tarot cards for it, since he used fire and water to scry and had no real use for the deck. The trader hadn't known much about the blue hat, just the command word to make the hat stop whatever it was doing and the fact that anyone who used the hat had to pay a price.

Rumple recalled telling Baelfire that very thing awhile ago. I should have known then that the hat might prove too great a temptation and locked it up, a part of him thought regretfully. But another part, the part that was still furious, thought He's old enough to know better, he's twelve, not two! He could have gotten himself and Finn and Ivy killed by fooling around like that. I ought to spank the living daylights out of him.

The sorcerer scowled, thoroughly disgusted at his son and upset that he had to punish the boy, but he knew better than to let Bae get away with such disobedience. He hadn't laid a hand on his son in years, the last time had been when Bae was four and he'd caught him playing with his carving knife. Then he'd given the boy two swats and made him stand in the corner for eight minutes. Now though . . . his son's transgression was much worse and therefore so would the consequences be as well.

Satisfied that he'd mastered his temper, Rumple turned the doorknob and went inside the study, not minded to make Baelfire suffer the agony of waiting any longer for his punishment.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

"An' what happened next, Papa?" Davina asked. "Did Granpa spank you?"

Bae opened his mouth to continue with the story when Rennie said, "You can find out after dinner, little minx."

"Is it suppertime already?" her husband asked, looking up at the clock on the mantle.

"Aww, but Mama!" Davina groaned. "Papa was just gettin' to the really good part!"

"The really good part's when I'm in trouble?" Bae chuckled.

"Yup!" Davina stated. "Jus' like me!"

"Then that's a good place to stop," Rennie said firmly. "Now come on, you two, come eat your supper before it gets cold."

"You heard your mom, Davina," Bae told his daughter. "I'll finish after supper."

"Before I go to bed?"

"Yes."

"Pwomise?"

"I promise. Now let's eat that wonderful ham and bean and bread your mom made."

"I helped!" his daughter declared. "I got Mama the salt n' the 'lasses."

"The 'lasses?" Bae repeated.

"She means molasses," Rennie translated.

"You put molasses in that stew?" her husband wrinkled his nose.

"No, silly! I put molasses in the cookies I made for dessert," his wife laughed, "and a pinch of salt in the bread before I kneaded it."

"You made cookies? You didn't tell me that," Bae said, going over to sit at his place at the table.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Rennie sighed.

"Oops! I forgot!" Davina blurted.

"It's okay. I ought to know better than to try and keep a secret around a two-year-old. Like your Grammy always says little pitchers have big ears," Rennie said ruefully, and helped Davina to sit on her chair, which had a pillow on it so she could reach the table.

Once they had all eaten the delicious stew, bread with butter, and some molasses cookies with goat's milk, Bae washed the dishes while Rennie fed Gabe the leftovers and took the puppy out for the night. As the dishes dried on a towel, he led his intrepid child down the hall to her bedroom, with its pale pink walls decorated with rosebuds and teasets, and soft white curtains framed a small round window. Dolls of all kinds shared space with wooden animals on a shelf above a bookcase filled with picture books, while a teaset that mirrored her grandmother's white porcelain with blue flowers sat on a table beside some crayons and paper.

There he helped Davina get changed into her rosebud nightgown, little ruffled cap, and fuzzy wool socks. "There you go! Snug as a bug in a rug!"

"Can I hear the rest of the 'tory now, Papa?" begged the little girl.

"All right. But first you need to get in bed," he told her.

Davina scurried across the floor and jumped onto her little daybed, which Bae had carved for her from white oak. The bed had a heart shaped headboard and vines with roses carved in the center of it. A pretty quilt with an Icy Star pattern in various colors and prints made by Rennie covered the bed, it had been stuffed with Sunny's hair, and was extra warm and cozy. A plump pillow of goosedown covered by a matching pillowcase waited for Davina to place her little head on it, while her green blankie and favorite stuffed unicorn, a gift from her Aunt Clary, sat sentry to one side of it. "I'm in bed, Papa!" the little imp sang, bouncing up and down and giggling.

"I don't think so," Bae said, and then he crawled on the floor, growling, "If a certain little girl doesn't get in bed right now . . . the big bad wolf is going to eat her all up!" He gave a rather realistic howl, learned from Ruby, and bared his teeth, saying gruffly, "And he'll start with her toes!"

"No!" Davina yelped, and pulled her feet up just before Bae pretended to bite them. "Go 'way big bad woof!" She yanked off her slippers and threw them at him.

But her aim was terrible and they missed him by a mile.

Bae continued growling, "If I can't get your toes, little girl, then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!" He started huffing and puffing.

"No! No! You ain't knockin' my house in!" Davina squealed. "I'll breaka you head!" Then she grabbed the pillow off her bed and smacked Bae over the head with it. "Take that! An'that! An' that!"

She whacked her father with the pillow several more times.

"Oh! I think I'm done for! It's all going dark!" he groaned and flopped over on the sheepskin rug before the bed.

"Yay!" Davina cheered. "The pwincess beated up the big bad woof again!" She looked up as Rennie came and stood by the door. "Mama, I won! I killed the big bad woof!"

"That's my brave girl!" Rennie praised. "But now it's time for all brave girls to go to sleep. Right, Papa?" She came in and put the pillow back where it belonged, and retrieved the little girl's slippers and put them neatly beside the dresser.

Bae rolled over and sat up. "Okay, my brave little soldier," he pulled back the quilt and the sheet beneath it, which smelled of lavender, and Davina crawled into bed. Then he tucked the covers snugly around the child and leaned on the edge of the bed.

"More 'tory, Papa! Please?"

"Okay, now hush," he ordered, and continued where he had left off.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Bae glanced up when his father entered the study, swallowing sharply. There was a lump in his throat as big as a marble and he blinked his eyes rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He was twelve years old, far too big to start bawling like a little kid just because he was in trouble. Even if it was the worst trouble he'd ever been in and he was sure his father was going to take him over his knee for breaking his word and touching his magic hat.

Rumple didn't speak to his son at first, instead removing a key from about his neck and going to the glass cabinet behind his desk and unlocking it. Inside the cabinet were some of his very powerful spellbooks, an obsidian dagger, and now he added the blue hat to the shelf. The sorcerer closed the cabinet, locked it, and put the key around his neck before turning around and giving his son a look that conveyed vast disappointment and reproof.

The look struck Bae like an arrow to the heart, and he hung his head and stared at the floor. He almost wished his father were the kind that yelled at him instead of giving him a look that made him turn into a lump of quivering guilt. But that had never been Rumplestiltskin's way. He could do more with a single glance than most people could with an entire lecture.

"Look at me, Baelfire."

Bae forced his gaze up.

Rumplestiltskin stood behind his desk, his arms crossed over his chest, the picture of parental disapproval.

"I'm sorry, Papa."

"What are you sorry for? The fact that you disobeyed me or the fact that I caught you?" he queried sharply.

"Both. I . . . I can explain."

"Then do so."

Bae licked his lips. Where to start? He sniffed sharply. Then he said, "I . . . I know it was wrong to touch the hat. But I . . . I just wanted to . . . to . . . pretend . . . for a little bit . . . that I had magic . . . like you do. That I was a great sorcerer."

Rumple's countenance softened slightly. "I see. Was that the only reason?"

Baelfire gulped. He could have lied and said yes, but he was not accustomed to doing so. His father had taught him better and he knew that any punishment he'd earned would become worse by lying. No, better to just own up to his mistakes and take his punishment like a man.

"No, sir," he admitted quietly. "I . . . I also thought I could . . . use the hat to do my chores so I could . . . get done quickly and do something fun, like practice with my sword."

"Baelfire, how many times have I told you that magic isn't to be played around with?"

"A lot."

"Why did I tell you that?"

"Because . . . magic can be dangerous. And . . . all magic comes with a price," he recited.

"Yes. And what price did the hat ask of you before you used it?"

"I . . . don't know. I just put it on and . . . it told me to command it."

"And that is why you should never touch magical objects without my permission, young man!" Rumple scolded. "Because you don't think about the consequences. You just react. You just think about what the magic can do for you, and not what it could demand of you in return. You've seen what magic's price demanded of me when I used the dagger without counting the cost of vengeance. I became a monster, I lost myself to anger and hate. That should have taught you a good lesson about thinking before you acted."

Bae dropped his eyes to the floor again. "I know, Papa. I . . . I was stupid."

"Yes, you were reckless and foolish," his father agreed. "By putting the hat on without knowing the price beforehand, you could have killed yourself. The hat is very old, lad, and in order to use it properly you need to be a master magic wielder." He reached out a hand and gently pulled his son's head up, frowning as he examined the boy's forehead, which had a faint red line across it. "Did the hat do that to you, Bae?"

"Huh?"

"This," he gently traced the red line with his finger.

Bae flinched. "Oww!"

"It burned you, son."

"I couldn't get it off, Papa. I tried . . . but it was like it was stuck on my head. And it grew hot when I touched it."

"Because you hadn't asked magic's price beforehand, it took it from you," Rumple murmured. "By siphoning off some of your energy. Gods, lad, you were lucky that's all it did." He shivered, suddenly cold to the marrow of his bones. Then he snapped, "You risked your neck to skive off washing a few dishes and scrubbing a floor! I cannot believe you were so foolish! I thought I taught you better than that."

Bae flinched, as the disappointment in his father's tone cut him worse than a whip. "You did. I just . . . thought . . ."

"You thought you could use magic to solve everything, like so many would-be magicians do," Rumple finished. "And like so many do, you found out the hard way it's not so."

Bae nodded. "Yes, sir." He looked hopefully at his father.

The Gold sorcerer snorted. "Quit looking at me like that. Giving me puppy dog eyes isn't going to get you out of a well-earned punishment. I ought to take you over my knee right now and wallop the daylights out of you for doing what you did . . . but I think you deserve something more than a spanking, Baelfire Gold. You've made a wreck out of our home and scared the blazes out of me and your brother and sister. And a mere spanking won't fix any of that. So . . . you're going to remove the rest of the water downstairs by hand . . . and scrub the floor for the next two weeks as well. "

"Two weeks?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No, Papa. But . . . how do I clean up all that water?"

"I'll vanish enough of it so you can do the rest with a mop and a bucket. That ought to take you a few hours . . . and make you think before you ever touch any of my magical objects again."

Bae groaned softly. But the punishment was fair, even if he hated it. He turned to leave, intending to start on it as soon as possible.

Rumple came around the desk then and put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, son. Let me put something on your head."

He sat Bae down in a chair and gently smoothed on some healing salve, watching in relief as the burn vanished after he did so. "How's that feel?"

"Better. I'm really sorry," Bae said, feeling compelled to apologize yet again.

"You ought to be," said his father . . . then he reached out and hugged his son to him. "But I forgive you, you silly sorcerer's apprentice! But the gods help you if you ever do something like this again."

Bae pressed his face into Rumple's tunic, inhaling the familiar scents of wool, mint, and spiced aftershave that always clung to his father. Those smells always represented safety and comfort to him. As did the feel of his father's sinewy arms about him, holding him close. Even knowing the wretched task that awaited him downstairs didn't lessen the feeling of comfort he always got from Rumple holding him, and the hug was even more welcome knowing his father forgave him for his disobedience.

After a few more moments, Bae drew away from Rumple and left the study, heading downstairs to begin removing the water from the floor. . .

" . . . it took me almost three hours to clean up the mess I'd made by trying to use the hat to finish what I should have done myself in the first place," Bae concluded. "By the time I was done I ached all over as if I'd been beaten black and blue, but I had learned my lesson. I never touched anything I wasn't supposed to again, especially not anything magical."

Davina looked up at him sleepily. "That was a good 'tory, Papa."

"And did it help you remember not to touch what doesn't belong to you?"

"Uh huh. I'm never touchin' nothin' of Granpa's ever!"

Rennie looked at Bae and started snickering.

"Uh . . . yeah, that's good, Davina . . ." Bae said, realizing that maybe he was expecting too much from a mere two-year-old. He smiled at his baby girl, whose eyes were slowly shutting. He bent and kissed her forehead, murmuring, "Sweet dreams, my pretty princess. I love you."

"Love you too," the little girl said, yawning. "Night night, Papa!" Then she looked about for Rennie as well. "Mama?"

"Here I am, little minx!" her mother said, then she bent and kissed the little cheek Davina presented to her, saying, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the goblins bite."

"Night, Mama. Love you." Davina's eyes were at half mast now, and she sucked a corner of her blankie.

"Love you too, baby girl," Rennie whispered tenderly. She waited until Davina's eyes had shut before she left the room.

Bae followed soon after, leaving a small night lamp glowing, just in case Davina woke during the night and needed to use the bathroom. He walked a few steps down the hallway to their bedroom, meeting up with Rennie inside of it.

Rennie laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you tried. And I think she got the gist of it . . . at least for now. But you'll probably have to repeat it again when she's older."

"But hopefully not after she touches my sword," her husband remarked.

"Gods forbid!" his wife muttered. She removed her apron and shoes, then turned to her husband and said, "Bae, love, would you unbutton my dress?"

He grinned and began undoing the row of buttons, knowing full well just what that would lead to, and looking forward to it with the same excitement he did a good sword fight.

Rennie stepped out of her dress, then turned to her husband, clad only in her chemise and stockings and murmured, "Have I told you lately how much I love you, my sorcerer's apprentice?"

"You have," he said, tugging his tunic over his head. "But you ought to know I never tire of hearing you say it, my lovely goose girl." His fingers flew down the buttons of his shirt until it too was shrugged off. Then he took his wife in his arms and kissed her passionately, showing her without words how she had captured his heart so long ago, and how she kept it still, safe and sound, next to her own.

He gently drew her towards their bed, for the night was young and they had hours yet till morning. They indulged themselves happily as the moon drifted high in the sky and their child slept, dreaming childish dreams of sugar cookies, princesses, and sorcerers wearing blue hats and making mops dance while the collie puppy slept curled on the rug beside her bed.