[Gold is silent until they reach the bar, and even then only speaks to order. once the whiskey is in front of him, he takes an overzealous swig of it, and then turns to his son.]
So you and Emma Swan? [he's so... bewildered.] The world's full of wonderful coincidences, isn't it?
[whoops. just because it is for me doesn't mean it's like that for everybody. dammit dw.]
Oh of course. Some eleven years ago, I would think. Give or take a few years being here in this world. [he grimaces, realizing that he sounds bitter as fuck and corrects himself.] I'm sorry. It's... a lot to process. Mayor Mills' adopted son- Emma Swan's actual son... Is my grandson.
[Neal's used to his dad being dramatic and self absorbed- it's cool. He just shrugs and shakes his head, not to disagree with what his father is saying, but just still finding it difficult to have this conversation all over again.]
Yeah, he is. You think it might be easier to have these conversations the second time around, but it's just weirder.
As frustrating as that may be, it's a problem I wish I had. Though it seems as if I'm better off not remembering... most things.
[not that he had a son, of course. not that he had a family at all, really, but the darker parts. but forgetting them doesn't erase the stain they've left on him.]
You know, had you said that a year ago, I might have had a dozen or so.
[he stares down at his glass.] If Belle and I were really together... if all of that really happened before we met again here. Was any of it real? Or did I simply enthrall her and everything between us here is just what's left over from that?
[He's quiet, just observing the man sitting across from him. It's hard not to wonder just how sincere he is. It's a reflex. But he clears his throat after a moment.]
It may be a year too late, but... from what I saw? You two really cared about each other.
It's not too late if I can give her the peace of mind to know that Gaston lied. I wasn't entirely certain I could ever approach the man again without knowing for certain. [not that he can... really approach him now that he seems to know the truth. it's going to be that much harder to bite his tongue.] Thank you, Neal.
Don't mention it. But if you want some unsolicited advice? Don't approach him. Tell her what I said. Or hell, I'll tell her for you if you want. But let her tell him if she wants to. It's her choice what she believes. Whatever he's told her isn't your problem. All you can do is present the truth and let her do with it what she wants to.
The last time you tried to confront a romantic rival? Well, that's how my mother ended up dead.
There's a reason I've taken so long to reconcile this whole... "Rumplestiltskin" business. Up until recently, I've been quite content to believe I'm a pawnbroker from Maine.
But you were a pawnbroker in Maine. Everyone has multiple identities. Our were just a little more...literal. Being something else as well doesn't negate that.
Well. [baaw snow] I appreciate that, Ms. Blanchard. And... for what it's worth, I do hope things begin to look up for you. I understand how difficult it can be in this world when everything you know is familiar is disrupted. You don't deserve any of what you've been handed.
As she has a tendency to do. Strange how very few others from our world seem to recall our alleged misdeeds, yet Ms. Swan remembers them all with perfect clarity.
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neal and gold } the bar
So you and Emma Swan? [he's so... bewildered.] The world's full of wonderful coincidences, isn't it?
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Neal has a beer, but he's not drinking it, just staring into it and wondering how much he should say.]
It was a long time ago.
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Oh of course. Some eleven years ago, I would think. Give or take a few years being here in this world. [he grimaces, realizing that he sounds bitter as fuck and corrects himself.] I'm sorry. It's... a lot to process. Mayor Mills' adopted son- Emma Swan's actual son... Is my grandson.
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Yeah, he is. You think it might be easier to have these conversations the second time around, but it's just weirder.
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[not that he had a son, of course. not that he had a family at all, really, but the darker parts. but forgetting them doesn't erase the stain they've left on him.]
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[he stares down at his glass.] If Belle and I were really together... if all of that really happened before we met again here. Was any of it real? Or did I simply enthrall her and everything between us here is just what's left over from that?
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It may be a year too late, but... from what I saw? You two really cared about each other.
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Don't mention it. But if you want some unsolicited advice? Don't approach him. Tell her what I said. Or hell, I'll tell her for you if you want. But let her tell him if she wants to. It's her choice what she believes. Whatever he's told her isn't your problem. All you can do is present the truth and let her do with it what she wants to.
The last time you tried to confront a romantic rival? Well, that's how my mother ended up dead.
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the most horrified look because man he almost DID kill Gaston and WANTED to and... Yikes. Dodged a bullet there.]
...I'll keep that in mind.
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snow and gold }
he hesitates for a moment.]
... Are you aware of the...ah, connection between our families, Ms. Blanchard?
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I wasn't entirely sure how to approach the subject. It's a complicated one, as I'm sure you know by now. Not to mention my memories are very strange.
[Awkward. Unsure. This is fine.]
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[Gold is more fucking screwed than anyone in this department. all the memories he has are MOSTLY FAKE.]
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[l o l]
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But you were a pawnbroker in Maine. Everyone has multiple identities. Our were just a little more...literal. Being something else as well doesn't negate that.
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that makes so much sense. WHY DOES THAT MAKE SENSE????]
That would explain Snow White and Mary Margaret Blanchard, then.
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[lol gold neither of your selves are wonderful. you are garbage in every version.]
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[She smiles quietly.]
For what it's worth, I believe you are a good person, too.
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I should go and change for now. [She reaches out to touch his forearm.] Again, welcome home. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon.
regina and gold }
As she has a tendency to do. Strange how very few others from our world seem to recall our alleged misdeeds, yet Ms. Swan remembers them all with perfect clarity.