Chapter Ten—"A Stain on the Soul"

When he appeared an hour later, he found Charming and his officers gathered in a dirty, crumbling room on the second floor of the fort, staring at one another in confusion. Every one of them looked haggard and run down, and the dirt covering the dozen or so faces often made it hard to tell the men apart from the few women. One of the officers was trying to explain:

"—suddenly stopped. Then a giant wall of fire just sprang up out of nowhere and started burning them. The ogres kept trying to advance through the flames, but they just…"

"Burned, I daresay," he interjected, wandering straight into this conversation the way he'd wandered into so many others.

Everyone whirled to stare at him, and it was almost like he'd stepped backwards in time to before the Dark Curse. For a moment, he had to fight back the urge to look down at his hands and see if they were suddenly golden-grayish again, with scales and black claws that called themselves fingernails. He'd waltzed into this sort of situation half a hundred times, all sharp edges and nasty giggles, demanding what he wanted, playing with people, and then leaving on his own terms. He'd been a force of nature, then, feared by all…and no matter how much he told himself that he enjoyed the games, after the first hundred years or so, the dance had lost its luster. Oh, there had been moments he appreciated, but often the smiles had all been part of the act.

No longer. This was different, and although Rumplestiltskin wasn't entirely comfortable with the role the war had forced him into—or at least temporarily assigned him—he didn't have to go back to what he'd been, either. For the first time in centuries, he had a genuine choice. And that's why I'm here. Still smiling, he turned his mind back to the confused group of soldiers.

"I understand you have an ogre problem. Or had one, to be more accurate."

"That was your doing?" Charming's jaw dropped, but Rumplestiltskin's attention was drawn by a second voice. He'd known Baelfire was with Charming's army, but hadn't seen his son in the crowd; he'd been the one still looking out the narrow window, with his back to the others. But now Baelfire had turned, his face white and whisper tentative:

"Papa?"

"Hello, Bae." It was a woefully inadequate response, but was apparently enough, because his son crossed the room in three long strides and hugged him tight. Rumplestiltskin returned the embrace , letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

He'd been so certain that he'd never see his son again, so certain that his sacrifice would be worth it because his death would give Bae a chance at a happy life, the kind of life he'd never truly be able to have with the Dark One as his father. The kind of life he'd taken from his son all those years ago when he'd stolen the dagger, making a deal that he hadn't understood the price of. Knowing that Bae and Belle would live had given him the strength to kill Pan, to kill himself, and this was a moment he had never even dared imagine. Even knowing his son was alive during the last five days—had it really been so few?—had made their reunion hard to visualize. He hadn't exactly thought that Bae would be angry, but there was no way to know for sure.

"I thought you were dead," Baelfire said, his voice choked and muffled against Rumplestiltskin's shoulder.

He chuckled softly, ignoring the lump in his own throat. "Apparently, I'm not very good at killing myself."

Belle would have yelled at him for making a joke about it, but Rumplestiltskin could feel Bae smile, and a quiet laugh escaped his son before Bae pulled back to look at him. "But how…?"

"Pan's dead," he reassured his son, and then explained: "But there's a very old magic tied to self-sacrifice. That magic can save you, but not if you expect it to. And only if you do it for the right reasons."

"You really didn't think it would."

"Of course not. There was far too much darkness in me for something like that to work," Rumplestiltskin answered honestly, watching his son's face carefully. Baelfire had always been a bright boy, and although everyone else in the room was still stuck on the Rumplestiltskin-killed-the-ogres part of the conversation, Bae did not disappoint.

"You said 'was'," his son said almost immediately. "And you look—"

"Indeed I do." Now he could smile, a real smile, one that reminded him of being a father three centuries ago, before darkness had so ruined his soul. "I seem to have broken my curse in the process."

"Oh." Bae's face split into a grin, and suddenly, he laughed. "Well if that's all it took, why didn't you come up with that solution earlier? It would have saved us both an awful lot of heartache."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. Well, he is my son. And Rumplestiltskin's somewhat crooked sense of humor had not been something he'd inherited along with the Dark One's curse, either. "The next time I pick up some ancient life-altering curse, I'll be sure to have you remind me of that," he retorted dryly, but couldn't keep the slight smile off his own face.

"Damn straight." Then Bae's voice turned soft. "It's good to have you back, Papa."

"It's good to be back."

Rumplestiltskin really wished he could have these reunions in private, because the next question was one he had expected but had not yet figured out how to completely avoid. Fortunately, his son was more circumspect than Regina had been, though in retrospect, he supposed it really didn't matter who knew that he'd not had magic before the curse. Obviously he still did, much though he couldn't explain where it came from. He really did want to avoid that round of questions from anyone other than Bae, though. If he didn't tell Bae, Belle would, and he'd rather not earn both of their ire over his habit of keeping secrets from them, so Rumplestiltskin would just tell his son the truth. But not in front of everyone else.

"You…killed the ogres?" Bae approached the topic of his magic obliquely.

"That I did." Squeezing his son's shoulder, Rumplestiltskin added softly: "More on that later."

Bae nodded. His eyes were full of curiosity, but he would wait. So Rumplestiltskin turned to face Charming and the others, flipping his right hand up in a swirly motion so very reminiscent of his own past. Hm. Apparently the flamboyant mannerisms became mine as much as the imp's.

"However, that may not be the end of your problem."

"What do you mean?" Charming asked immediately.

"I mean that although these ogres are dead—and burned, so that their bodies can't be reanimated and sent after you again—they weren't acting normally. Did you notice that they seemed…smarter than usual?"

Interestingly enough, Charming exchanged a look with Rumplestiltskin's son. The prince grimaced. "Yeah…"

"I told you so," Bae put in mildly, and the knowing twitch of his eyebrows made Rumplestiltskin swallow back a snort of amusement.

"Then it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that those ogres were being controlled by someone. Or something," he explained. "The first thing I tried was to turn them away with magic. It's the simplest way to be rid of ogres; you convince them to go home. Ogres aren't very bright creatures, for all their strength and capacity for violence, and if you can make them believe that the territory they have is as good as the territory they wish to gain, they'll leave. But these didn't. Even when faced with fire."

"So, the Witch is controlling them. That makes sense." Charming shrugged. "But it doesn't change much."

"You're not listening."

More than a few of Charming's people jerked up short when Rumplestiltskin called him out like that, but at least Bae wasn't one of them. And to give Charming credit, the prince only smiled, not offended in the slightest. "Okay. So what aren't I seeing?"

"Ogres fear fire more than just about anything," Bae answered, and Rumplestiltskin swallowed back another smile, unspeakably proud of his son. "The Witch can't make them run through it as if it weren't there, can she?"

"She could, but your reasoning is sound. She'd have to be here to do so. The amount of magic it takes to force ogres to act against their natures is profound. Bastinda could manage it, but not from a distance. No, I suspect she's using something else."

"Some sort of talisman?" Charming was starting to get it.

"Some sort, yes."

"Are you going to tell us what that is, or do I have to make some sort of deal with you?" Charming asked next, and Rumplestiltskin laughed.

"I think we're a bit beyond that point, don't you?" he asked lightly, mostly just to watch the befuddled expression cross the prince's face. Oh, he still wasn't the type to do magic for free—after all, he'd never been lying about the cost of magic; one of the most fundamental rules of magic was that every spell ever cast had an associated reaction of sorts, but that price was something he'd learned to manage expertly over the years. But information Rumplestiltskin could volunteer for without charge, and needed to, particularly since they were fighting a war for control of their very world.

Charming shot him a dubious look. "Are we?"

"I don't know what the Witch is using," Rumplestiltskin chose to answer the important question rather than address Charming's doubts. "Though I do have my suspicions. If I had to guess, I'd say she's using the Janus Stone."

"The what?" Bae asked.

"Legend calls it the Heart of the Ogre King, because it's most often been used to control ogres. But it can do much more, and if the Witch does have the Janus Stone, we could very well be in trouble." Much though it went against his baser nature, Rumplestiltskin intentionally included himself in his assessment of who the Witch could cause trouble for…because whether or not he liked it, this was his fight.

Later, he would realize that it had never once occurred to him that he might make a deal with the Witch for the safety of those he cared about, and part of Rumplestiltskin would wonder why.

"So how do we find this heart?" Charming asked.

Correcting the prince wasn't worth the effort, so Rumplestiltskin just drew a vial out of an inner pocket of his coat, channeling magic into it as he did so. The new power leapt to do his bidding far more quickly than the old darkness had, and by the time he spoke, the potion was ready, complicated though it was. "I can help with that. Do you have a map?"

One of the other soldiers handed a rolled up map to Bae immediately, who tossed it onto the only low table in the ramshackle room. Rumplestiltskin leaned over to study the map briefly as his son asked: "Will this work?"

"Well enough." Thankfully, it was a small scale map, featuring most of the Enchanted Forest as if from a great distance. A larger scale map would have been serviceable as well, but would have made the magic a little more complex. Given that the four different spells Rumplestiltskin had in mind—separate from the one he'd already put in the vial; that was just for the map, not for the locating part of this equation—were already quite convoluted enough, he was happy to use a map that removed one possible variable.

Weaving the strands together in his mind—faster than he would have thought possible a year earlier—Rumplestiltskin lifted the vial over the map, swirling it slightly to make sure that the potion came together just so. Slowly, moving from the left side of the map to the right (or to west, which was important for this magic), he poured the liquid out drop by drop. However, the potion never made it to the parchment. Instead, the liquid hovered in midair over the map, forming a bumpy line of murky blue droplets about an inch off of the parchment. He repeated the same motion moving from up to down, or north to south, until a cross of water droplets formed just over the center of the map.

A flick of his wrist banished the vial back to his pocket, and Rumplestiltskin swept his right hand, palm down, slowly over the parchment, again from east to west. The droplets disappeared as his hand moved, forming a very thin sheen that continued to over hover the map, translucent blue and glowing ever so slightly. He studied it for a moment, and then flicked his fingers downwards so that the potion settled onto the map. It hit with a sizzle, and blue smoke immediately rose off the parchment, completely obscuring the map's features. That bit of magic done, Rumplestiltskin's left hand came up to join his right, bringing with it two spells he had finished weaving. Letting out a breath, he turned that hand palm down to the map as well.

Magic tingled in all ten fingers as he completed the final two spells. Slowly, he spread his hands apart, still holding them over the parchment. Power tingled up his spine, the spells arched invisibly out of his palms—and then it was done. The blue fog sank into the map, absorbed by the parchment itself and the spells he'd cast, and the features on the map reappeared in sharper and greater detail than before, colored as vividly and realistically as a photograph.

Bae and Charming both stepped up next to him as small pockets of color started to glow on the map, ranging from pale yellow to a brighter red.

"What are those?" Charming asked quietly, gesturing at one of the thrumming red dots.

"Magic," he replied. "The darker it shows on the map, the more powerful the source. Yellow you can ignore. Orange as well. Anything red you will have to investigate. The Janus Stone is one of the oldest magical items in existence and is extremely powerful. It should show up as dark red, but it could be shielded somewhat."

"How do we tell where everything is? It's kind of hard to tell from a distance," Charming pointed out.

"Just tap the map and it will give you a closer view." Rumplestiltskin did so, tapping a random place to demonstrate. "Then tap a corner and it will return to normal."

"Damn. That's pretty cool," Bae remarked. "Just like Google maps."

Charming made an amused noise of agreement as Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes, saying dryly: "Thanks, Bae."

"No problem, Pop," was his son's cheeky response.

Meanwhile, the prince-turned-general tested his own control of the map out, tapping the area near the fort they were still sheltered in. As he did so, a dark red dot grew larger. Charming glanced over at Rumplestiltskin.

"You said this displays all sorts of magic? Does that mean objects or people? Or both?"

"And people always try to say that your wife is the brains in your relationship," Rumplestiltskin couldn't resist teasing him, and Charming grinned back. "It shows both."

Truth be told, if he'd dared key the map to only show magical objects, he would have. Tracking magical users or magical beings was much more difficult, but the Janus Stone was so old that it might well have acquired a personality of its own after all these years. So, Rumplestiltskin had no choice but to use the spells that would show people as well as objects, even if he didn't like the idea very much. At least the fourth spell had been a duplication spell; an identical map was now sitting in his workroom back at the Dark Castle. If he was going to work this kind of magic and leave it in others' hands, Rumplestiltskin was going to do the same for himself at the very least.

But there was really no immediate need. He'd already spotted the two bright red dots—one glowing more powerfully than the other—centered on the Forbidden Fortress, along with the one flickering orange dot headed away from the Dark Castle and in that direction. That sight told him he'd been right about where Regina was, and that Emma had already disregarded his advice to stay out of Regina and Maleficent's spat. No, the Charmings' daughter had to go play Savior again, even when she really should stay out of it. And of course she was still trying to ignore her own magic. Would she ever learn? Just thinking about Emma Swan was enough to give Rumplestiltskin a headache. Unfortunately, the girl's father was just as perceptive as she was.

"So, either there's a really powerful object nearby, or that dark red dot is you," Charming said bluntly.

He smiled thinly. "Well, it's not the Janus Stone, dearie."

Bae shot him an interesting look, but Rumplestiltskin refused to say more.

Snow wasn't surprised when the Blue Fairy came to visit, even if she did show up unannounced. The Blue Fairy didn't much like the Dark Castle, of course—when they'd taken up residence there, Blue had said that it stank of evil and was almost poisonous to one such as her—so Snow was grateful that Blue would brave the discomfort. They settled into comfortable chairs in Snow's chambers after Blue came through the window, with the fairy having put her wings away and assumed her larger form.

"I am glad to hear that the war is going better," Blue said after they'd exchanged pleasantries. "But I am…concerned to hear that Rumplestiltskin has returned."

"I agree that it's…unexpected," Snow said slowly. She'd always known that Blue and Rumplestiltskin did not get along—how could they, when he was the Dark One?—but Regina's had confirmed that Rumplestiltskin's curse had been broken, and he did seem to be trying. Even back in Storybrooke, he'd often been more willing to help than the fairies had been able to, and Snow felt they had to give him a chance. "But with his curse broken…"

She trailed off, only to watch Blue grimace. "I would not count on that mattering, child."

"Why not?" Snow blinked.

"Rumplestiltskin has been a creature of darkness for centuries. One good act—if it was not a trick to shield something darker—cannot erase that," the most powerful of all fairies pointed out gravely. "Whatever kind of man he was before becoming the Dark One has been forever changed by that curse. He may help you, but he will only do it on his terms. And he cannot be trusted."

"I'm not sure we have a choice," Snow replied. "We need all the help we can get. Besides, he does really seem to be trying to be better for Belle. And for Baelfire."

Blue shook her head. "Do not trust that. Darkness leaves a stain, Snow. Even if he wants to change, he may not have a choice. No one does. Not after embracing evil for so long."

"Regina's been fighting on our side for the last year, and you said she couldn't change." Snow wasn't sure why Blue's motherly tone was getting on her nerves, but Blue had said something rather like this about Regina, not long after they'd returned to the Enchanted Forest. And she'd said the same back in Storybrooke, back when Regina had initially started trying to be better. Blue had been wrong about Regina; Snow was certain of that, now. Was she also wrong about Rumplestiltskin?

Rumplestiltskin had never been so obvious or honest about his desire to be better—Regina had flat out said it, whereas Rumplestiltskin had simply looked at the message David had sent and said he'd take care of the problem. Of course, that was right on the heels of his argument with Emma about Regina being able to save herself, which had mostly consisted of Emma shouting and Rumplestiltskin calling her a fool, but that was certainly no different than anything they'd experienced before. When Snow thought about it, even back before the Curse, Rumplestiltskin had helped her and Charming more times that he hadn't. He'd actually helped them more times than Blue had…and that really was an interesting thought.

"It appears I was wrong about Regina. I hope I was, child," Blue said softly, sadly.

"Tink thinks you were." And somehow, Tink's opinion had started to matter to Snow a lot more than Blue's had. Maybe that was because Tink was fighting by her side and Blue had been gone, doing whatever she was doing.

"Tinker Bell learned a great deal during her time in Neverland," the senior fairy replied easily. "I am glad you trust her."

"So am I."

Blue sighed again. "No one is perfect, Snow, even me. And I know that you wish I were more open with you about what the fairies have been preparing. All I can promise you is that we are on the right side. We will do everything in our power to keep darkness from conquering the Enchanted Forest."

"I know you will." Suddenly, Snow felt horribly guilty for doubting Blue at all. "It's just… It's just been hard. That's all."

"And you are with child, which does not make things easier." Blue smiled and took Snow's hand. "Not to worry. He'll be born soon, and safely."

"He?" Snow squeaked.

"He." Another squeeze of her hand, and then without warning Blue was small again, flying above the chair she'd been seated in only moments before. "Good luck to you, Your Majesty. We will be watching you."

With that farewell, the Blue Fairy flew out the window of the Dark Castle, leaving Snow to place a hand on her stomach. She hadn't wanted to ask Tink if she was carrying a boy or a girl, and her own instincts had been less than helpful on that front. Snow hadn't really cared, so long as her child was born healthy, but she knew that David really did want a boy this time. Come home soon, David, she thought with a smile. Your son wants to meet you. Soon.

"You know, I take back everything I ever said as a kid about wanting to fight ogres. They suck."

Rumplestiltskin chuckled softly. "They aren't much more fun to deal with using magic, either."

"I'm gathering that, yeah," Bae replied with a wry smile. They'd stepped outside while Charming started sending messengers to the other army outposts. It didn't give father and son much of a chance to talk as they would have liked, but at least they were away from prying eyes and curious eavesdroppers.

As they walked, Rumplestiltskin flicked his fingers, throwing magic out along their path and searching for threats—not just for ogres. If his suspicions were correct and the Witch did have the Janus Stone, at some point she'd discover that she could control other fell beasts and prove even more dangerous. For the moment, however, the immediate area seemed clear. Perhaps more importantly, if the Stone had been nearby, Rumplestiltskin was certain that he would have felt it. He was still growing accustomed to the depth of this new power; the feedback it provided threatened to overwhelm his senses at times. Eventually, Rumplestiltskin thought he might not need the kind of map he'd just given Charming. If he could wrap his thoughts around the power properly, the possibility existed that he could track magic and its users inside his own head. If. The most interesting thing about this new power as that it was trapped inside a fragile human body. He'd not really been human as the Dark One, and hadn't had the associated weaknesses of humanity, either. Now, however, Rumplestiltskin was human again, and it made the power…different.

"So." Bae stepped over a burned out tree and then stopped. Rumplestiltskin followed suit, trying not to tense as he guessed what questions were coming. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on? If your curse is broken…"

"I shouldn't have magic, I know."

He let out a breath, staring briefly into the distance before turning to meet his son's gaze. Baelfire's brown eyes, identical to his own, watched him quizzically, and not accusingly as he'd feared. Rumplestiltskin had been terrified that his son would want him to be free of magic once and for all now that the curse was broken, that Bae's childhood desire for Rumplestiltskin to go back to the way he had been would win out. But Bae seemed curious rather than angry.

"I didn't expect to," Rumplestiltskin explained after a moment. "I pointed out to Regina that I did study magic for three hundred years, and that therefore I obviously should still be able to use magic. I'm not certain she believed me. Either way, it's not the truth."

"What is?" his son asked quietly.

"I don't know where this power comes from," he answered quietly. "It's unlike anything I have experienced before. Under the curse, I had access to an almost bottomless well of darkness. This…this is an ocean of power. I've yet to find its limits. It's almost like the power was somehow masked by the Dark One's curse, narrowed down into only darkness, and then was left behind when the curse broke."

"Is it the same power?"

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "Yes. No. Some of it is. Much of it isn't."

"That doesn't make any sense," Bae replied after a moment, making his father laugh.

"You're telling me? I assumed that living meant I would no longer be able to use magic. I spent a year being tortured by the fae thinking that, only to find out that I was so very wrong. I am no stranger to power, Bae, but this—this can be terrifying. Even to me."

"Wait a minute—you what? Belle didn't say anything about—"

He cut Bae off with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't matter now." He was determined that it wouldn't, anyway, and if Rumplestiltskin told himself that enough times, it would have to be true. Nevermind his own nightmares. Belle helped with those.

"Papa, I—" Baelfire looked horrified. And guilty. Guilty?

"You didn't know," he interrupted quickly, aghast at the idea that his son would feel guilty for not saving him. "You had no wayof knowing, Bae. No one did. I don't blame anyone for what happened, aside from those responsible."

Baelfire's voice was very gruff when he asked: "You said the fae. I thought they were just legends."

"Not so much as one might hope."

The words came out a little sing-songy, a little harsher than Rumplestiltskin intended. But he supposed that he only had himself to blame; speaking of it made the memories rise, made him think of a whisper in his ear, dark and evil magic, and a hand on the back of his neck. His hands shook slightly before he could clench them into fists, and he could feel the skin on his face grow tight as he grimaced. Looking away from his son until he could regulate his emotions, Rumplestiltskin sucked in a deep breath. He would not let that year rule his life, not when there were three hundred-plus other ones that had been at least more under his control, if not outright better than the one that just passed. He was alive. He had a second chance with his family. That made the pain more than worth it.

All magic comes with a price. He suspected that there was more than one to his, to this sweeping power he had somehow gained, and that the year he'd suffered for was a part of what he'd have to pay. No matter. He'd pay that a thousand times to see Bae and Belle again.

Bae's whisper broke through his thoughts. "You okay, Papa?"

"That's a complicated question, son," Rumplestiltskin answered, forcing himself to shrug, still staring into the trees. He wasn't, of course—Belle had finally pounded it into his head that he shouldn't be all right—but he needed to be. Rumplestiltskin had become as much a legend as the fae, even to his own allies. Strange though it was to use that term to apply to anyone, he was in this war up to his neck, and that meant he had a part to play. And yet…that thought came as an odd comfort. He'd been a loner for so long that he hardly knew how to be anything else, but something in him wanted to learn how.

"Are you going to answer it?" Bae asked.

Not unless I have to. His smile turned crooked. "Let's just say that I've had to do a lot of soul-searching recently, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that I still have one. A soul, I mean."

"Papa, don't."

"I know what I was, Bae," Rumplestiltskin forced himself to say honestly. Baelfire deserved to hear this from him in a way that no one else did, even Belle. "What I'm not sure about is what I am now. But I will try to be better, for your sake, and for Belle's. That's all I can promise."

"I can't ask for more than that," his son replied immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder again. Rumplestiltskin turned to look at him, a little hesitantly, and Bae smiled. "I was wrong, too. And I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance in the beginning. I was too used to running."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Bae. Nothing at all. You had every reason to run. I wasn't exactly…myself when I let you go."

And who was he now? Now Rumplestiltskin was certainly closer to that simple spinner than he'd been in over three centuries, but time had changed him as much as it had his son. A great evil no longer ruled his soul, yet he wasn't who he'd been, either. Whoever he was, he hoped it would be enough for Baelfire. His son deserved so much better than what Rumplestiltskin had given him before.

"Well, now we've got a second chance, right?" Bae asked, his crooked smile matching Rumplestiltskin's. "And hell, we're even at home for it."

"I guess we do."

Suddenly, Bae's face split in to a grin. "Does this mean I have to give the castle back?"

Rumplestiltskin could only laugh.

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews following the last chapter! Hearing from readers always makes me smile. Questions for this chapter: Do you think that Blue is right about Rumplestiltskin? Is he irrevocably stained by darkness, or will he be able to be who he wants to be?

Stay tuned for Chapter 11: "Counting the Cost", in which Emma and Company head towards the Forbidden Fortress, the Fae get out and about, and Snow and Rumplestiltskin have a little heart to heart. In the meantime, please let me know what you think about this chapter!