Goodbyes are being said all around as the former Storybrookers gather around a bonfire, enjoying the venison that David and the dwarves spent the afternoon hunting and the fruit that the fairies plucked. They've returned safely to the Enchanted Forest, all of them except three of them, three of their own, three heroes whose lives will be honored in story, song and painting for generations. Snow and David will make certain of that, beginning with the first of the new generation.

"If it's a girl," Snow declares, "her name will be Eva Emma. If it's a boy, Henry Rumplestiltskin."

All heads nod at this vow, even Regina's. Bae has to clear his throat before he can reply. "Thank you."

Belle says nothing: she can't. Her voice has lost its power.

Plans are made, for, though most will join the Charmings in rebuilding their old village, some will split up, attempting to return to their own homes and occupations, and others will strike out new. Maurice drops down beside his daughter, his joints creaking as he sinks to the ground. "I'd like you to come home, Belle. We can start over."

"As if nothing of the last thirty years happened," Belle mutters. Maurice doesn't hear her–he never really did–but Bae, seated on her other side, does. "What about what I want, Papa?"

Again, Maurice doesn't hear. . . or doesn't listen. He squeezes his daughter's knee. "Come home and we'll be a family again. Come home, Belle; all is forgiven."

Belle leaps to her feet, fists clenched. Her lips pull back from her teeth in an expression so familiar that Bae gapes at her. "'Forgiven'?! 'All is for–'?! Papa, you are an arrogant jackass and I reject your offer of 'forgiveness.' Nothing I've done requires forgiveness."

Maurice tries to shush her. "I didn't mean it as it sounded. I simply meant I have no hard feelings about your disobedience in continuing your. . . relationship with the Dark One."

"I am proud of my relationship with Rumplestiltskin! When will you understand that? I'm proud to call him my beloved and I always will be, and until you can accept that, we can't be family. As for 'home,' my home is the Dark Castle, whatever condition it's in, and I'm going back to it." She turns to Bae. "That is, if the owner doesn't object."

Bae suddenly blinks, as if awakening from the nightmare that took all his loved ones away. His path becomes clear in the blink of his eye. "The Dark Castle is as much yours as mine. After all, you lived there; I never did. I'm happy to share it with you. He would've loved that."

Belle nods. "He would've wanted something else too: for us to share our memories. I've always wondered about his life before the Dark curse, and I have a multitude of stories of my own to share with you."

"It's a deal, then." Bae takes a deep breath, a cleansing breath. "There's something else I need, and you, and only you, can provide it: knowledge."

"About what, Bae?"

"You lived with him a long time, he said. You observed his work."

"That's true," Belle says softly. She fingers the wool scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, a scarf Rumple wove for her. In the years to come, it will become as precious to her as Bae's baby blanket and her chipped cup were to Rumple. She makes a quick decision, a remembrance vow of her own: she will learn to spin so she can remember him.

"He allowed you into his library and his lab," Bae continues. "You must've learned quite a lot, for a mortal, about magic."

"I did," she agrees. "With his books and his potions, I believe I learned enough to cast a few spells myself, though I never tried. Never wanted to."

Bae leans in, smiling slyly. "Could you want to?"

"What do you mean?"

"I want to find my family again, and that's going to take–"

Belle breaks in. "Magic."

"I will find them again," Bae vows. "I will learn magic to find them again."

Belle cocks her head. So they've come full circle, then: the son becomes the father. "I'll help you, Bae, just as I did him."

"Even if it involves going down many paths, some of them dark?"

Her mouth opens and closes wordlessly.

"I will do whatever it takes," Bae swears. "I will do nothing else, love nothing else, until I'm with them again. And Belle? If the only way is a curse–" He leaves the rest unsaid. From the steel in his backbone, he doesn't have to say more.

"He understands now, Rumple," Belle whispers to the wind after Bae has turned away. She watches him as he crouches in front of Snow, taking her hand earnestly as he shares his vow with her. In the flicker of firelight, Snow's eyes gleam with hope, even as her voice dutifully tries to persuade Bae not to risk himself.

"Ah, Rumple." Belle rubs her cheeks dry with the back of her hand. "We all understand now."