Baelfire arrives in this new world, cold and afraid and utterly alone.
He barely survives those first few years in this strange and unfamiliar land, and looking back, he doesn't know how he managed even that.
But survive he does. He finds a place in this new land, grows into a man, learns to blend in, and in time, he almost feels like he actually belongs there. There are whispers and reminders of the old world, stories and dreams of magic even in this world which does not have any.
Tales of magic always make him think of his father. For a time, he felt betrayed and angry. After a while, the reality of what happened no longer surprised him. It was almost inevitable. His father was always a coward, and if this world has taught him anything, it's that a coward who manages to gain power and might fears nothing more than losing it again. And perhaps even the curse itself was to blame – perhaps such powerful magic was almost a living thing with a will of its own, and fought against being taken to a world where it would be instantly destroyed. He knows his father loved him dearly before the curse. He hopes that when it consumed him, it didn't deaden his heart and drive away his capacity to love as well. He likes to think that his father regretted losing him, that he loved him, that he tried to find a way to follow him to this world.
But whether his father loves him or not makes little difference. It doesn't change the fact that he is in this world alone. He tries not to dwell.
… …
This world is a strange one, and for all the years he has spent here by now, little things still confuse him from time to time. A custom, an object, how what they call science can bear such resemblance to what he once knew as magic. There is a phrase he has heard for years now, and though he has deduced the general sentiment behind him, he never could figure out the origin of it.
"Where is that from?" he asks one day. "I've never understood it."
"What?" his friend asks. "That you'll owe someone your first born child?"
"Yeah. Where did that saying come from?"
"It's from Rumpelstiltskin."
Baelfire nearly falls out of his chair. He stares at his companion, slack-jawed, dumbfounded, and wide-eyed. "Wh… what?"
"Rumpelstiltskin. The fairy tale. You know, spins straw into gold in exchange for the queen's baby. She has to guess his name so he'll let her out of the deal… You must know the story."
"Oh. Right. Of course."
The moment his friend is gone, he heads straight for the nearest library.
… …
It should be a coincidence. He wants so desperately for it not to be true, but there is too much to be chance. The name, the spinning wheel, the powerful magic. It is far, far too much to be a coincidence.
Somehow, this world knows of his father.
He sits in the library, reading the passage in the book of children's tales over and over and over again, until the lights go out and the librarian tells him to leave. He wanders the streets slowly, aimlessly, until he finally makes it back to his apartment in the dead of night. He sprawls on the bed in the dark, not even bothering to take off his coat or shoes.
He doesn't know how this world knows of his father, if the tale came through with him or some other way. It doesn't matter. The story just plays itself again and again in his mind.
There is no mention of a son or a life before the magic. Only a twisted, selfish, heartless little man, twisted and mad with magic and trying to take another person's child as his own. Did his father even try to follow him, try to find him and get him back? Did he care at all? Or did he simply give up and try to find another child to replace the old? Was it the curse that deadened his heart, or did he just give up and stop caring?
Baelfire finally falls asleep in the early hours of the morning, feeling betrayed and utterly unloved.