"I need you to go into town and fetch me more straw."

You looked up from the counter you were dusting. Your brows were pinched just like they always were when you were thinking a little too hard. "You trust me to come back?"

Rumple smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh no, dearie. I fully expect to never see you again."

There was a certain air of melancholy in his castle for the rest of the day. He'd never realized how quiet his private fortress was until you became his maid. You were always humming, singing, or just chatting his ear off.

Rumpelstiltskin used to complain about it. Always told you that a conversation wasn't part of the deal he made with your father. You were his maid in exchange for your father's army winning his little war. But now you were gone and he'd give anything for you to wander over and ask him some ridiculous question.

When clouds began to form and the sun was almost set, Rumple resigned himself to being right. You had seen the chance at freedom and taken it. He was just about to get ready for bed when movement outside his window made him freeze.

You were walking up the long gravel path, a basket of straw in hand. You had come back to him.

In his overwhelming fit of emotions, he forgot he could just snap his fingers and appear at the door. Rumple ran downstairs like a hellhound was at his heels, his half-unlaced boots clattering down the steps. Because for the first time in his long, miserable life, someone came back. Someone chose him.