In Shadow

By Betsybelle & ForzeOUAT

A/N Sorry, a little confusion over the title, but we're all good now. Enjoy. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

Chapter 1

Strength

"Mama….Mama, please don't go…!"

The little girl sobbed, running after the figure who had now passed over the hill and beyond her sight. She wanted to keep running, but her Papa would be upset. She was never entirely certain why he got so angry, but she knew it would come ...and she knew she did not want to be the person he centered on when it did. Her father's anger was best dealt with by older and stronger people than she.

Wiping the tears that were streaming down her face away with her arm, she turned around and trudged home, kicking rocks along the way, doing anything to keep from thinking about her mother. She would have to be brave now; strong ...she could not be seen weeping. She was all her Papa had left.

And yet, the child wanted ...something. Anything really. To hold onto; to hug, something that would make her stop sobbing inside, something that would lessen the pain. Reaching her Papa's stable, she went into the tack room and dug into the trunk that stood in the corner. She pulled out a ragged, half-rotted, doll with brown hair and blue eyes, dressed in a tattered gold dress. Her Mama had made it for her a few years ago and it had become her best friend. She'd had to hide it because her father was not fond of his daughter playing with dolls. With no son to inherit, he treated her like a boy – scolding her when she cried, educating her in the art of war –insisting that she was going to inherit his estate and, as such, she must prove worthy of it.

Hugging the doll tightly to her chest, she went into the lone empty stall and sat down on the straw. Giggling despite her sorrow, she started to lose herself in her imagination, the doll becoming suddenly animated in motion and voice.

"Shall we take a nap, dolly?" She had never given her friend a name; she didn't know why and it didn't really matter; she just knew she loved her. Her lids were drooping now and she was yawning. "Just for a few minutes, before Papa finds me."

Lying down on the straw, she closed her eyes. A few minutes later, she was sleeping, a slight smile on her face.

Watching all of this transpire, Rumplestiltskin shook his head in disgust. In his travels, he'd come across many scenes of pathos, of humor, of outright tragedy, even of happiness, but for some reason nothing had touched him like what he had just borne witness to.

This little girl had watched as her mother walked away from her, ignoring her pitiful pleas to stay, and yet instead of collapsing in a heap, she had sought comfort from her plaything and actually laughed. There was something about this child, who could not be more than 7 years- old, that reminded him of Baelfire. His son, too, had lost his mother at this age. Granted, Bae had believed his mother dead, but Rumplestiltskin many times wondered if it was better or worse? He had been a strong boy; unwilling to let his loss consume him, and in being that strength, he had given Rumplestiltskin hope for a future. A future he had given away, a child he had forsaken. It was his deepest regret.

His eyes drifted back to the child who lay sleeping. Long, chestnut colored hair was tousled with dirt from the road and straw from the stable where she lay. He had seen determination in her startling blue eyes. Yes, she was strong, that was it. Bae had been stronger than he and this girl, young as she was, was stronger than her mother and, he suspected, her father as well. It was nearly impossible to penetrate his heart. He had closed it off so many centuries ago he didn't remember what it felt like to care, but this child, this little girl who clearly had no one to turn to had managed to find her way inside. It was a strange and slightly painful sensation, caring, but he'd no idea how to stop it.

Gently walking over to her, almost floating on the straw so that she didn't wake, Rumplestiltskin gazed down upon her. She truly was a lovely child, it was clear that one day she would grow up into a beautiful woman. He was surprised at how moved by her plight he was; his intuition told him that she would find no comfort with her father and this saddened him. No child should want for the love of a parent. He above all else knew that.

As she started to stir, kicking around the straw and clutching her doll even closer to her, Rumplestiltskin came to a decision. He would be her protector and her guardian. If he could do anything right in this world, it was to ensure that this little girl would never feel abandoned, that she would know that someone cared about her even if the people who were supposed to feel that way did not. Bending down to her, he placed his hand on her forehead. "Rest well, brave little one", he whispered. "You will be fine," he paused for barely a minute and then added, "I promise."