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[i]Many, many years ago…

Dawn came, but Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t slept a wink. How could he when he knew the fate of his wife and child, never to see them again? They were dead, claimed by the sea in its roiling wake. There had to be a way to get them back, somehow. He was The Dark One, anything was possible, right? He couldn’t think of that now, not when he was about to receive vengeance for the death of his family.

Rumpelstiltskin sat atop an archway adjoining two roofs, awaiting the pirate Killian Jones to arrive just as he had set it up the night before. His bloodshot eyes scanned the streets until finally, the pirate made himself known. From his spot on the archway, Rumpelstiltskin tossed down an old, rusty sword at Killian’s feet, causing the pirate to pause and look up at the monster.

“Pick it up dearie, and let’s begin!” Rumpelstiltskin shouted down to the pirate.

“There’s no need.” Killian replied, keeping his eyes on Rumpelstiltskin as he moved his hand to grab at his own sword, but forced to look at the sheath as his hand found it empty.

“Sorry…” Rumpelstiltskin’s voice came from directly behind Killian, catching the pirate off guard. “…but killing a man with his own sword is just [b]too[/b] delicious to pass up.”

Killian turned to see his very own sword in the hand of Rumpelstiltskin, and was then forced to pick up the older sword that the monster had thrown at his feet earlier. He took a moment to test the blades weight, and suddenly lashed out at Rumpelstiltskin with a powerful swing down of the sword, aiming to get this duel over and done with as soon as possible.

Rumpelstiltskin showed no inexperience with the pirates sword, as each strike was so easily parried by The Dark One that he even took it a step further and rested his free hand behind his back. They continued to strike their blades together, time and time again until Killian was sure that he had him and swung indefinitely, however The Dark One was no longer there; vanished into nothing but air.

“Ships that pass in the night?” Rumpelstiltskin asked from behind Killian. “Well…at least one ship…”

Killian went at Rumpelstiltskin once more, making Rumpelstiltskin take a step back with each blow until once more he was sure he had him until Rumpelstiltskin caught his sword with his own and forced Killian forward, knocking over a stack of barrels and falling to the stone ground. He quickly got up, refusing to give up the fight and attacked the monster again with a shout of anger that echoed into the night.

Rumpelstiltskin, again blocked each blow, using his foot to kick Killian back a few paces once and when the pirate returned, used his free hand for the first time to punch the pirate in the face, again causing the pirate to stagger back. Killian went back at him blindly, swinging his sword with fury and lunging to catch even just the reptilian clothing of the beast but Rumpelstiltskin slapped his sword down, and kicked him down onto his chest with his boot.

Killian got back onto his feet, only stopping when he was on a single knee to see that his own sword was pointed directly at him, Rumpelstiltskin had won the duel; it was over.

“Go on, I’m ready for the sword.” Killian said bravely, looking up into the monster’s eyes that glared down upon him. Rumpelstiltskin raised the tip of the sword to Killian’s neck and studied his face carefully.

“No…” Rumpelstiltskin said through his gnashing teeth. He bent down at the torso a bit, getting on a closer level to Killian’s face though keeping the sword tip at the pirates throat. “Do you know what it’s like-” He asked. “-to have your family stolen from you? To feel powerless to stop it? It feels as if your heart has been ripped from your chest.”

Rumpelstiltskin straightened up and lowered the sword.

“Actually, let me show you…” He plunged his hand forward, and Killian found the hand of the monster slide into his chest as if he were made of Jell-o. A sharp pain came from the pirates throat as he suddenly felt Rumpelstiltskin’s hand close around his heart and squeezed down hard.

“NO! STOP!”

Rumpelstiltskin, with his hand deep in the chest of the man who had stolen Milah and Baelfire, turned his head to see…a ghost?

“Milah?” Rumpelstiltskin’s dark eyes widened, unbelieving of what he was seeing. It was Milah alright, done with the tattered and worn dresses he was able to provide for her and instead donned the apparel of a pirate. She hadn’t run away after all, she [b]left[/b] him.[/i]

Against his better judgment, Mr. Gold closed up shop early that day. He really wasn’t one for traditions, and the pointless one belonging to the town only known as Miners Day; a made-up holiday simply to bring the town together in some bullshit attempt at ‘togetherness.’ As Mr. Gold locked up his shop, he couldn’t help but to sneer as two children chased each other, a race to see who could get to Granny’s bakery booth first. One of them was bound to trip over their untied shoelaces and bust up their knee pretty badly, and then he would be stuck hearing their snot-nosed whimpers of pain.
 
Before that could even become a possibility, he took hold of his cane and limped down the street in the opposite direction. It would be a longer route to get to the heart of Storybrooke, but it was also a route that would be less populated, and he wasn’t much in the mood for striking any new deals today. He did, however, need to make a short stop to visit his dear friend Mother Superior.

“You’re raising the rent again?” Mother Superior, despite her quiet and pristine manner, couldn’t help but to vocalize her worries at a steadily louder volume than deemed appropriate coming from a nun. Thankfully, everyone else was at Miners Day already and none to overhear them.

“You were twenty-three minutes late on last months; did you sincerely think that wouldn’t come with its consequences?” Mr. Gold asked in an almost pleasant tone.

“But…but it’s Miners Day! The nuns, we’ve all put in what we had left for our preparations. We’d have to sell every candle to be able to afford double rent!”

“That…” Mr. Gold said twisting his cane around a bit to keep his hands occupied with something. “…is not my problem. I’ll be by later tonight to collect.”

Without another word, Mr. Gold made his way off of the porch and back onto the street, whistling a merry tune to himself that sounded much like ‘hi-ho’ from the Disney version of Snow White.