Summary: This story involves reincarnation. Before RumBelle existed, they were Reimund and Lucienne. RumBelle must find the happy ending that Reimund and Lucienne did not. The Storybrooke side of the story begins 17 days before Emma’s arrival. RumBelle’s cursed memories tell them that they are Gold and ‘tough as nails’ Izzy-B. Gold/Izzy-B have always had a crush on each other, but never pursued it…until the day, Izzy-B decides to make a change in the town that never changes. This story is rated T.
Author’s Note: The name Reimund means ‘wise protector’, and the name Lucienne means ‘light’.
This is written with great respect, love and gratitude for the talents of Robert Carlyle, Emilie de Ravin, and everyone involved in of Once Upon A Time. I do not own these characters, nor do I own the songs mentioned in this story.
All fictions here are written by me, Nicole Muench Seidel
Many centuries ago, on the same day in neighboring villages, two children, a boy and a girl, were born. The boy’s name was Reimund, and the girl’s name was Lucienne. Their early years were spent with no knowledge of the others’ existence. In their seventh year, Reimund’s mother died unexpectedly. Reimund became introverted and stopped talking more than a couple words at a time, if that. His father sought solace in mead. In the neighboring village, Lucienne, whose family was of modest means wanted for nothing. Her wants were simple; love of her family and time with the beauty of nature, She was grateful and humbled by her good fortune to have these wants met. Her parents, quite unusual for their day, encouraged Lucienne’s sense of adventure and fostered within their child the belief that she could do anything she wanted, if she tried hard enough.
One day, in their eighth year, Lucienne, having dutifully finished her chores, set out on her latest adventure to discover the wonders of the marshland that lay between the two villages. Her blue eyes burned with excitement, as she made her way through fields, and thickets and across a shallow creek with a rucksack slung over her petite shoulders. The bright sun glistened through her chestnut brown hair. As she came to a cove with high grass and a few trees, she saw a figure hunched over sitting on a large rock. She approached cautiously, intuitively sensing a somber aura around the figure. She stopped in her tracks about ten paces away from a boy with long, shaggy brown hair, who appeared to be approximately her age. She stood transfixed. Hearing a rustling behind him, Reimund looked up at the girl, and then went back to pondering the horizon. After his soulful dark brown eyes met her eyes of crystalline blue, Lucienne’s heart raced like a rabbit.
Unaccustomed to this feeling, Lucienne, the child who never ran from anything, ran as fast as she could back home. She barely spoke during dinner and laid awake much of that night. The next day, timing the completion of her chores to allow her to go back around the same time as the previous day, she set off to the previous day’s destination. She didn’t know if she would see the boy again or why it even mattered, but her eight year old heart burst with hope to see the dark eyed boy again. When she arrived, he was nowhere to be seen. She felt a wrenching pain in her chest. She stood there angry at herself for having run the previous day. Why had she run? Then she spotted him walking along the creek. Without knowing why, she darted behind a large tree, and watched him walk to ‘his’ rock and seat himself. Minute after minute ticked by with her crouched behind the tree, she was mesmerized by the boy with the dark eyes. Chastising herself for whatever power was making her cower, she straighten herself to her full height and quietly, somberly traveled to the rock, seating herself next to him. Lucienne and Reimund sat in silence, as the sun moved lower in the sky, and then as if communicating mentally, they both got up and went their separate ways home.
They continued in the same manner daily for a few weeks, until one day, Reimund spoke, “My momma died.” Lucienne replied simply and sweetly, “I’m so sorry.”, and then reached into her rucksack, pulling out a pear, she reverently asked, “Are you hungry?” When he nodded, she handed him the pear. The weeks stretched into months, as they shared snacks and talked more and more. They both knew what they were feeling, though they both knew that common sense dictated that they were too young to have such feelings. Regardless, they knew, though they never spoke of it, that they were in love.
A few days before their ninth birthday, they exchanged gifts that they made for each other. Lucienne had drawn Reimund a picture of their favorite place, and Reimund had made Lucienne a necklace of every kind of blue stone that he could find. In a moment of impulsiveness, Lucienne placed a feather light kiss upon Reimund’s lips. Lucienne and Reimund parted shyly, blinking at each other, as they shared a wisp of an awestruck smile. They agreed to try to meet the following day, since Lucienne’s family would be visiting kin on their birthday.
That night, Lucienne woke with a pain jolting her little body that made her sob. When she went to their meeting place the next day, Reimund was not there. She tried to convince herself that nothing was wrong. Feeling like a force was giving her body a mind of its own, she found herself absentmindedly walking to Reimund’s village. Lucienne’s heart shattered, when she learned that Reimund’s cottage had caught fire, and as the little boy fought with all his strength to save his drunken father, they both perished.
October 6, 2011 – Storybrooke, Maine
(Seventeen days before Henry Mills brings Emma Swan to Storybrooke)
Mr. Gold awakens drenched in sweat, coughing and gasping for air. After catching his breath, he rubs his weary dark eyes, looking around his opulent bedroom in a daze. Talking to himself, “What the Hell was that?” Raking his fingers through his longish brown hair that is starting to have a bit of gray, he tries to shake the dream from his mind. However questions pummel his mind. Why would he dream about two children that he never met? Why did the boy look just like him as a lad? That is not the typical kind of dream that leaves him sweating and breathless. The only blue eyed, brown haired female about whom he dreams, is definitely not a child. The unattainable Izzy-B French is absolutely all woman. Chastising himself, he thinks, “Wonderful! I had to start thinking about her again. Get over it, Gold! A woman like that has no interest in the monster of Storybrooke…Hell, she even mails her rent, just so she doesn’t have to see you.” While most things are attainable to the man who own most of Storybrooke, Izzy-B French is another matter entirely.
Izzy-B French, wearing a black pinstriped business blazer and matching skirt with a magenta silk blouse, nurses her coffee. She sits reading at the counter of Granny’s Diner, while the breakfast crowd shuffles in. She twirls a strand of her chestnut brown hair that has come loose from her bun, while her crystalline blue eyes hungrily devour the book in hand. Ruby Lucas, the waitress with long dark hair with unnatural red streaks, smirks while eyeing Izzy-B.
Ruby remarks, “You look so conservative today.” Izzy-B meets her gaze and replies tiredly, “Meetings with clients and suppliers today.” Ruby says knowingly, as she glances at Izzy-B’s legs and too high heels, “Let me guess…they’re all men.” Rolling her eyes, Izzy-B says, “In business, one must use all of one’s assets.” Ruby laughs, “I’ll bet. Speaking of assets, don’t forget you have a date tonight.” Izzy-B groans, “I don’t want a date. I just want to go home, play with my dogs, read and go to bed.” Sternly Ruby replies, “As cuddly as Moon Dancer may be, he can’t be your only man. Good God woman, you’re the queen of the one nights!” Nearly choking on her coffee, Izzy-B looks around to see who might have heard, and then exclaims in a sharp whisper, “Geeze, Ruby, would you like to rephrase that?!?” Ruby shakes her head, “You know what I mean! You go out with a guy and within the first ten minutes of the date, you’ve found a reason to never date the poor schmuck again. Mary Margret and I are worried about you.” A bit offended, Izzy-B says, “Why…because I don’t have a man? Mary Margret doesn’t have one either.” Ruby retorts, “Yeah, but she’s at least trying to find one.” Izzy-B sighs, “Look, I don’t need a man, just to have a man. I want someone whose mind excites me. I want something different than the average Storybrooke male. Besides, men mean complications. I don’t need that. The biggest complication that I have with Moonie is getting the undercoat rake through his fur.”
Ruby tilts her head and frowns, eyeing for the first time the cover of Izzy-B’s book. Smirking at the paperback with photo of two swans and maroon and blue lettering that says, “Only Love Is Real: A Story of Soulmates Reunited…Brian Weiss, M.D.”, and then exclaims, “Ha! What is Little-Miss-True-Love-Doesn’t-Exist doing reading that?!?” Getting uncomfortable, Izzy-B lies, “It was given to me as a gift a few years ago, and I thought I might as well read it.” Izzy-B had bought the book as a gift for herself. She takes another long drink of her coffee, and then adds truthfully, “A dream I had last night brought to mind the theory of past lives and twin-flames.” Leaning in Ruby says, “Dream? Flames? I’m all ears.” With a groan, Izzy-B says, “It wasn’t ‘that’ kind of dream. It was about this little boy and little girl who fell in love, but the boy died in a fire, and the girl was devastated. She never married and made an orphanage her life’s work. It was so tragic and felt so real….and the weird thing is, the girl looked like me.” Ruby says in frustration, “Good grief! You have the most depressing dreams. Don’t you ever have any fun ones…if you know what I mean?” Izzy-B takes another big gulp of coffee, trying futilely to hide a smile. Ruby smacks the counter excitedly, “I knew it! Who is it?!? Who are you having hot and sweaty dreams about?” Izzy-B frowns. Ruby ventures a guess, “Graham. It’s got to be Graham. Those eyes, that facial scruff and that body are enough to make any woman howl. Plus he’s nice.” Izzy-B chuckles, “Yes, Graham is nice, but no, it’s not him. Besides we know he and Regina have a thing. Ew!” Both women cringe at the thought. Ruby continues to guess, “Billy, the mechanic?”
“Archie! What about Archie?”
“I like his dog, Pongo, but no, not Archie either.”
Seeing Granny giving her the look of death, Ruby tosses out an absurd suggestion, “Oh I know…it’s Mr. Gold.”, and then she darts off chuckling as she goes to serve a customer without looking at Izzy-B. Izzy-B’s face reddens, as she takes an extra-long drink of her coffee with her hand tightly wrapped around the mug handle. She counts her blessings that Ruby did not see her reaction. She loves her friend, but knows a juicy piece of gossip, like her having ‘warm’ feelings for Mr. Gold would not stay just between the two of them.
Several minutes go by, and Ruby returns to refill Izzy-B’s coffee. Coming back to a previous topic, Ruby says with a whine, “Why can’t you try to get just a little excited about tonight?” Izzy-B gives her an annoyed glance, and then looks back at her book, “Because nothing ever changes in this town.” Ruby slams her hand down on the book, and says, “Oh, not this again!” Undeterred, Izzy-B presses on, “Oh come off it, Ruby! I know you feel it too. This place is suffocating. We all just walk around like zombies, doing the same thing day after freakin’ day.” Stubbornly Ruby says, “I admit to nothing.”
Lifting her chin and arching her eyebrow, Izzy-B issues a challenge, “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll close my eyes and tell you who the next customer is and what he’s ordering.” Intrigued, Ruby says, “Alright…I’ll bite. Let’s see you do it. Who’s about to come in right now?” Smugly, Izzy-B says, “Mr. Gold. Earl Grey Tea, and a slice of blueberry pie…but it has to be the slice that has the bubble in the crust.” Ruby watches Mr. Gold entering and having waited on him countless times, knows her friend’s order prediction is spot on correct. Izzy-B opens her eyes and smiles brightly. Though she did, indeed know based on the monotony of Storybrooke, that Mr. Gold would be coming in next, she also had confirmation of that knowledge when Archie opened the door to leave, just as Mr. Gold and his wonderfully intoxicating cologne approached the diner entrance. She also knew that her crush of many years always orders Earl Grey Tea, and a slice of blueberry pie with the bubble in the crust. Izzy-B says, “See! Nothing ever changes here.” Watching Mr. Gold in his expensive dark suit, purple shirt and bright blue tie, confidently amble to the pastry display case with his gold handled cane in hand, a sense of longing takes Izzy-B over. Her expression becomes mischievous as she says, “Nothing ever changes, but today it will.”
Izzy-B and her shapely legs dash across the diner faster than her high heels should allow her, cutting in front of Mr. Gold. Looking him directly in the eyes, holds a finger up in the air, she smiles and says, “Sorry, Mr. Gold. This won’t take a minute.”, and then confidently says, “Granny, I’m just dying for one of your gooey sweet cinnamon buns.” Mr. Gold shifts awkwardly. Nobody in Storybrooke has ever dared to act so brazenly as to cut in front of him in line, but this isn’t just anyone…it’s the woman of countless dreams; Izzy-B French. Granny, looking flustered, glances toward Mr. Gold. He clears his throat, “You heard the lady. Get her a cinnamon bun.” Quickly Granny obliges, handing Izzy-B a plate with the pastry. Izzy-B takes it, turns and looks into Mr. Gold’s dark eyes, and says, “Thank you for understanding. Sometimes when you want something…you just have to have it.”, and then she takes a bite of her bun. She breaks eye contact, closing her eyes only momentarily, to savor the flavor and the look that Mr. Gold is giving her. Mr. Gold chokes out with a raspy quality to his Scottish brogue, “That’s alright, Miss French, I understand.”, but truthfully, in the moment, he’s having difficulty understanding anything. The sight of her has him clinging to his cane for dear life, in order to not topple over. Then, opening her eyes to see that Mr. Gold is still indeed watching her, Izzy-B licks a bit of frosting off her lip and strolls slowly, purposefully back to her seat at the counter. Ruby gawks at her. Izzy-B hopes that Mr. Gold is still watching when she gets to her seat and looks over her shoulder. She decides this day has started splendidly as she realizes he is indeed still watching. Ruby then whispers excitedly, “What the… I don’t know whether to smack you or applaud!”, and Izzy-B grins broadly like the cat that ate the canary. Granny calls out, “Mr. Gold…Mr. Gold? I can take your order now.” He turns, trying to compose himself, “Oh yes, dear. I’d like a cup of Earl Grey Tea…”, and then pointing to a bubbled slice of pie, “and I want that piece of blueberry pie.”
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