Chapter 50: Epilogue
Five Months Later
Rumplestiltskin walked down the busy street blending in easily for the first time in his life. He nodded politely to a few gentlemen who passed, and received an equally civil tip of the hat in return. He was one of them, he thought idly. Like them, he was dressed impeccably, adopting the stylish fashion of the new world: wool trousers, vest, shirt and tie. He had forgone a jacket on this day, the weather surprisingly warm for the first time since their arrival in the strange land called London.
It was strange, Rumple admitted as he made his way down the street, his old peasant's staff long since exchanged for a gold tipped cane. London held many similarities to the old world, and yet was distinctly different. It was odd that the land could be both, but it was. There was no magic, and therefore no magical creatures or Dark Ones to prey upon the rest of the magic-less populous, but there were other forms of monstrosity, which had existed in the old world as well as this one.
The divide between peasants and the wealthy was polarizing and evident. The poor starved and suffered while the wealthy passed by, noses in the air, on their way to a fancy dinner or gala event. Rumple, who had the rare experience of living on both ends of the spectrum, turned his own nose up at the rich elite who seemed eager to make his acquaintance, but made certain to not neglect those who reached out helplessly, begging for anything to let them survive another day.
In the short time since they'd arrived, Rumplestiltskin – known in this land as the foreign and wealthy businessman Wallace Gold who was on an extended honeymoon with his young bride – had endeared himself to the poor, knowing all too well the struggle, though he never made mention of it when questioned by anyone for the reason of his kindness. Instead he merely said it was the 'Christian thing to do', a term of which he only had a vague understanding, but it appeased those around him, and he left the explanation at that.
Pulling out the watch from his breast pocket, Rumple scowled at the time. He was due to collect Belle in five minutes, but at this rate, he would be late. He smirked as he thought of the inevitable scenario: Belle would be standing on the stoop of their mid-town London home, foot tapping impatiently. That was one thing Rumplestiltskin was glad hadn't changed: his wife's name. He'd never been fond of his own name, but Belle's name was lovely, and he couldn't imagine her going by something else. Nothing else suited his wife. She had protested him changing his own name, but he'd insisted, claiming Rumplestiltskin was a little too different and might raise questions. He'd seen the name he ended up taking on a sign near the place where they'd taken residence. The documents needed to rent a home had been easy enough to forge, and within two weeks of arriving in the new world, they'd settled in a small townhouse, claiming they would remain until the desire to travel once more struck their fancy.
The fact that they were really looking for their long lost son was not mentioned and of no concern to anyone but himself and Belle.
"Mr. Gold, you are late, sir!"
Rumple looked up to see Belle, standing exactly where and how he'd imagined her, arms crossed and a scowl struggling to remain on her lips. Bowing low at the foot of the steps, Rumple smirked. "My apologies, my lady. I hope I've not kept you waiting too long?"
"Not that long," Belle admitted, descending the stairs until she stood one step above her husband, "Though just because I'm willing to wait for you forever, doesn't mean you actually have to keep me waiting!" She winked at him, a playful smile on her lips. Rumplestiltskin reached out to take her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
"Allow me to make it up to you?"
Belle smiled at him, and lifted her other hand to brush his hair out of his face. It was strange to once again see her husband as an ordinary man. For so long she'd been used to scaled, greenish-gold skin and wild, curly hair. She found herself longing for that old version of him sometimes, but recalled the blackened teeth and nails and decided that, while she'd loved her husband dearly as the Dark One, perhaps this form better suited him. But no matter what form he took, human with skin that was beginning to wrinkle around the eyes and greying hair, or scaled skin and a wicked, impish laugh, she loved him completely and was grateful that they'd overcome all odds to arrive in the land without magic.
Rumple caught Belle's other hand and, after pressing another kiss to it, he gently tugged her down from the step onto the sidewalk and tucked her arm through his. They stood for a moment in contemplation, then Belle pulled Rumple gently and they set off down the path opposite of where Rumple had come.
It was a tradition, one they'd started the moment they'd arrived in London. Every day, first thing in the morning and every evening near dusk, they would walk the streets of London, hoping that at some point along the way, they might find their son. The residents of their street had asked them one day, about a month into their stay, why they insisted on walking everywhere. Belle had quickly explained that she wanted to see all that London had to offer, and the only proper way to do that was to walk. Some of the ladies they'd become acquainted with sneered, while the gentlemen silently congratulated Gold on having the least pretentious wife on the continent.
Having come out of the portal in the countryside just outside London's gate, they had agreed to search the city thoroughly before deciding where to go next. They'd had no idea where the portal might lead them when they stepped through, but they both firmly believed that it would not lead them astray. So far they'd had no luck, but Belle refused to lose her optimism and as a result, Rumple held fast to his own as well.
Turning down the first street on the right, Rumple and Belle walked leisurely, appearing to be a normal couple out for their regular evening stroll. Despite the slow pace, Rumple felt the beginnings of a painful ache in his leg. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, trying to keep Belle unaware of his discomfort. She would want to turn back if she realized his condition, and he would not stand for that. He'd pressed through many a painful walk without her knowing, and he intended to do so tonight, even though the pain was a little sharper than usual.
"We should go this way," Belle said, pointing to a road they'd not taken in months. Rumple nodded.
"Whatever you wish, my dear."
If Belle noticed the slight grit in his tone, she made no comment and they turned their path to the left, walking toward one of the lower-class neighborhoods.
"He has to be here," Belle whispered as they walked.
"We're going to find him, Belle," Rumple swore as if he had control over the situation.
"I know," Belle agreed, "I just….it's almost been six months."
They'd agreed the night they sat down in their newly rented townhouse that if, after six months had passed, and they hadn't found Baelfire, they would move on to another place. It had been an easy agreement, but the longer they'd stayed, the more certain Belle began to feel that he was here.
"You don't want to go."
"Of course I do!" Belle exclaimed, ducking her head when several eyes turned to regard her. "I just….I know he's here. It's silly, maybe mother's intuition, but I just know he's here somewhere."
"I believe you," Rumple told her, "We can stay a little longer if your certain. Or I could go elsewhere for a month or so and-"
"We are not separating," Belle snapped, then squeezed her husband's arm in apology, "I'm already in a strange land. I don't want to be without you."
"Then I shall stay, and we shall tear this city apart."
Satisfied with that, Belle halted their steps and turned to face her husband. "Let's head back for the night," she said softly, running her hand down Rumple's arm. "Your leg is bothering you."
Rumplestiltskin started, "How did you-"
"Let's call it 'wife intuition'," she said with a smirk, "You're in pain, and you need to rest."
He wanted to argue, but the throbbing was persistent now. He would be no good for the next day if he continued on, and it was nearing dusk. They wouldn't be able to search for Bae in the dark.
"Very well," he sighed, "We shall continue our search tomorrow."
"In the slums," Belle said as she guided them down the road and toward their home.
"If you wish."
Belle had pointed out once that their son had come to this world with no money, no knowledge of the land, and only the clothes upon his back. The chances of him being amongst the poor were greater than anywhere else, and though it broke Rumple's heart to think of his son starving on the streets of London because of his mistake, he kept his guilt shut away. There would be time to beg forgiveness. They searched the slums on occasion, hoping that a loaf of bread or a few coins offered in the name of charity might also loosen lips, but so far none of the poor souls they visited had heard of Baelfire.
"He's got to be here somewhere," Belle insisted, "And we're going to figure out where."
~000~
Once they arrived home, Belle assisted Rumplestiltskin up the stairs to their bedroom, where he collapsed ungracefully onto the bed. Belle handed him his night clothes, then went to her dresser to pull out her own nightgown. Rumple watched admiringly as Belle began to change. Clothing was one of the few similarities of the two worlds. The fashion itself may have been slightly different, but the concepts were the same: petticoats, corsets, and the like were still the norm here. Belle had admitted that the fashion being similar enough was a comfort, because it was one less thing to adjust to. Rumple could appreciate the sentiment. There was enough to adjust to. And the latest fashions were the last thing he cared about. He wore them, thinking he might get farther if he appeared to have wealth – which he did – but more people would be inclined to help a man in a suit than a man in rags. It was a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. So they'd invested in fine clothes and a fine house, all in the hopes that it would be enough to pass muster so they could focus on their task.
Once they were changed, Belle sat at the edge of the bed and lifted Rumple's leg onto her lap. Silently she rolled up his pant leg with care, then reached out for the bottle of Agda's salve Rumple was holding for her. She poured out a small amount, frowning after a moment.
"We're getting low."
"Best to use it sparingly, then," Rumple said, wincing as Belle touched her hand to his leg. It was red, the skin knotted and hard, Belle shook her head.
"You've really outdone yourself this time," she chided as she worked the small amount of salve into his leg. She'd brought the book Agda had given her once long ago, but was no master of the craft. Relucantly, Belle wished she'd become the older woman's apprentice, but such wishes were worthless now. She would have to do the best with what she had and hope she could find a suitable alternative when the time came. Agda had been a master, and Belle was highly skeptical of the skill of the doctors of this world. She began to carefully press and massage the muscles, wincing when Rumple hissed again.
"Maybe we should take tomorrow off," Belle mused as she stood, wiping her hands on a small towel. Rumplestiltskin didn't move, but his eyes followed her as she bustled about the room, his brow creased.
"No."
Belle turned back to give Rumple an annoyed look as he purposely sat up and rolled his pants leg back down. When he finished he reclined against the headboard once more and stubbornly refused to look at her. Rolling her eyes, Belle joined her husband on the bed, curling up next to him closely. The bed wasn't as soft or as large as the one they'd shared in the Dark Castle, but like everything else in this world, it was as good as they could manage. Nothing would ever compare to the comforts of the Dark Castle.
Annoyed that he seemed to be ignoring her suggesting, Belle pressed herself closer to her husband and stared at him hard, willing him to acknowledge her. Finally Rumplestiltskin sighed and turned his head so that he was facing his wife, who was watching him expectantly.
"Belle-" his tone was full of warning.
"Don't you 'Belle' me, Rumplestiltskin," she chided, moving so that she was leaning over him. "You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop overdoing it."
"I'm not overdoing- OW!"
He glanced down to see Belle's finger where it rested against his knee. "I barely touched you." Her brow raised in a manner that dared him to argue, and he sighed in defeat and pulled Belle so that she was resting against his chest.
"We'll see how I feel in the morning," he said at last.
Opening her mouth to protest, Belle was startled when Rumple leaned over and covered her lips with his own. "Deal?" He asked and Belle relented with a sigh.
"Fine." Belle settled against him, her arm coming to rest on his chest where she idly rubbed her husband. "I just don't want you to overdo it," she murmured, "I can tell you're practically in agony."
"Don't worry about me, sweetheart," Rumple said, pressing a kiss to her temple, "I know my limits, and I've not quite reached them yet."
Belle scoffed. "This coming from the man who forgot to eat."
"I was busy."
"Rumple."
He sighed. "Fine. I will rest. But the moment my leg feels better, we are going out."
"That's not going to help the problem."
"I can rest when our son is sleeping in that second bedroom you insisted on."
"He's going to need a place to sleep, Rumple." She retorted matter of fact.
Offering her a sad smile, Rumple raked his fingers through Belle's hair affectionately. "I know."
Seemingly satisfied, Belle lowered her head to rest against him. Content for the moment, Rumple let his hand trail down her back, enjoying the feel of his wife curled up against him. He relished moments like this; these were the moments he lived for, his wife fussing over him while they lounged in bed. He wondered if Belle knew just how grateful he was to have her in his life. He'd not been the best at showing his appreciation of her, he thought grimly. So much time stolen by power and magic. Time better spent adoring the love of his life had been used up trying to correct his most grievous mistake. When we find Bae, he thought to himself, his fingers tangling in Belle's curls, I'm going to dedicate my life to making sure my family knows they're treasured.
Overwhelmed with the need to start that promise now, Rumple kissed Belle's hair and whispered, "Thank you for caring about me."
"I'm your wife," she murmured against him, clearly sedate and unwilling to move lest she disrupt his ministrations, "I vowed to take care of you forever."
"And you've done an incredible job, sweetheart. I don't know where I'd be without you."
~000~
The next morning, Rumplestiltskin dressed in a grey suit with white shirt and blue tie, then limped his way downstairs. His leg was still sore, but the pain was manageable, and if he could fake his way through breakfast, he thought perhaps he might be able to convince Belle to take a stroll with him to the slums.
He found his darling wife in the kitchen, pouring porridge in a bowl. She looked up with a large, beaming smile at her husband and bounced over to greet him with a kiss.
"Good morning," she whispered against his lips. Growling in delight, Rumple pulled the pot out of her hand and placed it on the table, then wrapped his arms around his wife, dipping her back for a heated kiss.
When he released her, she giggled as she stumbled out of his grasp. "Someone feels better this morning."
"Indeed," he said as he sat down at the head of the table. The porridge in the bowl looked only somewhat appetizing this morning, but it dawned on Rumple that there was nearly half the amount there usually was.
"We're low on food," Belle admitted as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him. The drink was strange and bitter, and Belle had sworn off the stuff after the first sip. Rumple had taken a liking to the drink, though he would always consider himself a tea man. He took a sip of the warm beverage and laughing when Belle cringed.
"Do we need to make a trip to the market?"
Belle nodded, taking a bite of her breakfast. "Probably for the best."
"Then shall we go after breakfast?" Rumple asked. Belle nodded.
"I would be delighted, good sir," Belle said with a giggle, mimicking the manner of speech that was prevalent in the new world. Smiling at her, Rumple took another sip of coffee, and willed his leg to obey.
Once they were finished, Rumple cleaned up – a notion that would leave all the gentlemen he'd come in contact with in his time here scandalized – while Belle made a small list. When they were finished, Rumple wrapped Belle in a shawl, taking a moment to kiss her cheek, and then guided her out the door. A few steps into their journey, Rumple's foot turned and he grunted in pain. Belle paused to look at him in concern.
"Are you all right, Mr. Gold?" Belle asked, careful to use the correct name now they were out in public. Grunting, Rumple straightened himself and gripped his cane.
"Fine, my dear," he insisted, "Let us go on?"
Belle gave him an annoyed look, but Rumple took her arm in his and moved them forward. "I'm all right, I promise."
Belle rolled her eyes and held out her arm. "What you are is a stubborn ass."
That remark caused Rumple great delight. "That's not a very nice thing to call your husband," he laughed as they made their way toward the market. As they walked, Belle talked about how she'd been introduced to their new neighbor the day before while he'd been out on 'business'. Neither Belle nor Rumple were social people, a trait that caused the elite of London to regard them curiously. The fashions and social customs of the new world held little interest to them both, though Belle was more interested in learning the ways of the world than Rumple was. She found, to her dismay that it was as superficial as the world they'd left.
The same could be said about the woman Belle was currently telling Rumple about. She was an upper-class woman, several years younger than Belle, who'd been married off to a rich aristocrat who bore quite the name and wealth. Belle pitied the poor girl who'd been practically sold off; the idea of being forced to marry someone was outrageous, and it was a practice she longed to see done away with. Her new acquaintance agreed, though her reasons were entirely selfish.
"Louise is so vain, and so depressing!" Belle declared, careful of Rumple's leg. "I understand her strife at being practically sold off, but I've met her husband, and he's as mad about her as you are about me."
Rumplestiltskin smirked, "That's saying something."
Belle nodded and carried on, "He's positively besotted with her, but she's too busy complaining about him to notice. He brought her the loveliest bouquet of flowers yesterday when I was visiting, and she complained that she didn't like the color. How ungrateful!"
"Seems she only takes pleasure in complaining," Rumple commented, already disliking the woman who he would no doubt be forced into meeting due to the social demands of the society he'd planted themselves in.
"Indeed!" Belle agreed, "I spoke with her for about an hour, and in that time, she complained about the tea, London, the flowers, her husband's grey hairs, corsets – though that complaint was entirely valid- and goodness knows what else! I eventually stopped listening and just nodded on occasion."
"Did you tell her about your own husbands grey hairs? I wouldn't blame you if you complained as well," he teased.
"Of course not!" Belle declared, stopping long enough to run her fingers through his hair. "I find your grey hairs quite appealing."
They shared a brief kiss and continued to tease each other as they walked, catching the scathing eyes of those who passed by. It wasn't proper to be so public with their affections but Belle hardly cared that the rest of the world wasn't as happily married as she. She loved Rumplestiltskin, all incarnations of him, and she wasn't going to hide that fact because society seemed to think it impolite to be so publicly happy.
They reached the market and, hoisting the basket Belle had brought with her, began to pick out some fresh vegetables while Rumplestiltskin retrieved some bread and fish. Once more they received strange looks, for what wealthy woman did her own shopping, let alone with her husband? Belle ignored the looks as she picked up some apples and tossed them into the basket.
Rumple returned a moment later and produced the amount owed, paying the small girl who was running the stand for her mother, who was currently nursing another child. Satisfied with their purchases, they turned to head home, but on a whim Rumple tugged on her arm and led her down a different route. Belle made no comment on the spur of the moment decision, knowing she would be unable to convince Rumple to rest his leg. She bit her lip, trying to repress her growing smile while thinking of a few ways she might convince her husband to remain in bed.
As they ventured from one street to the next, Belle heard the sound of a dog barking happily. She glanced over to the source of the sound, watching with interest as a small group of children kicked a ball around. The dog ran happily around each child, which made the group, three boys and a girl, all laugh gaily as they played keep away from their pet.
Belle stopped walking, and Rumple followed suit, following her gaze to the children. He recognized the expression on Belle's face as he looked back at her. She was remembering a time when Bae had played a similar game with Moraine and Anna. She has a wistful smile on her face, and Rumple couldn't bear the thought of ushering her along. The clouds hovering overhead signaled that rain was coming and soon, but Belle was watching the children, reminiscing on their own son, and he couldn't bear to tear her away from that memory.
The dog barked again, managing to knock the ball away from the tallest boy whose back was to them.
"Nana, you silly girl!" The boy called as the ball bounced away and toward Rumple and Belle. The boy turned, his eyes cast downward as he ran, but both Rumple and Belle tensed the moment they saw him. Belle gripped Rumplestiltskin's arm tightly and before she could contain herself, she was crying out her son's name.
"Baelfire?"
The boy looked up, the smile on his face slowly slipping to a slack-jawed expression of shock. Belle felt her knees go weak, and Rumple found it hard to breathe. He wrapped an arm around Belle's waist in an effort to support her and keep himself from collapsing.
"Mama?" the boy asked in disbelief, taking a hesitant step closer. "Papa?"
"Oh gods, Bae!"
Dropping the basket, Belle pulled herself away from Rumple and raced forward, crashing into the boy, who wound his arms around her tightly. They sank to the ground, clutching each other as Belle began to cry. Bae clung to his mother, oblivious to the other children behind them. After a moment, Bae turned his head, his tear-filled eyes lifting to meet his father's, who had yet to move from his spot at the edge of the alley. Rumple stood, dumbstruck, at the sight of his son.
Bae tensed slightly at the sight of his father, the memory of the last time they'd been together at the forefront of his mind. Belle seemed to sense her son's reaction, and she let go just enough to turn back and motion her husband forward. Snapping out of his shock, Rumple stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane. He didn't miss Bae's reaction to seeing him back to his old self. He just hoped his boy would find it in his heart to forgive him.
When Rumple reached them, Belle stood, pulling Bae up with her and wrapping her arm around his waist as a comfort to both. As much as he desired it, Rumple didn't reach for his son, afraid if he moved too fast Baelfire might disappear again and this would all be a horrible dream. It wouldn't be the first time such a dream had happened, and so he held his breath, waiting for the inevitable crash that pulled him into reality and left him broken and pained anew.
But then Bae stepped forward, just as hesitantly as Rumple had moved a moment ago, and with trembling arms, his collapsed into him, his sobs echoing throughout the alley. Rumple stumbled from the weight, his leg finally giving out with a painful pop and they fell ungracefully to the ground. Bae hardly seemed to notice, choosing to grip his father tighter as he wept into his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Rumple wound his arms around his son, squeezing tightly as he repeated over and over, "I'm so sorry, Bae. I'm so sorry."
When Bae collected himself, he sat back on his legs, allowing Rumple to sit up as well. Bae regarded him studiously for a moment, then whispered half in awe, "You're human."
"I am," Rumple said, running a hand through his hair.
"But that means you gave up your magic."
Rumple nodded. "I made you a deal, son," Rumple said, "And I never go back on my word. I'm just sorry it took me this long to finally hold up my end."
Eyes full of tears, Bae said, "You let me go."
"A mistake I fully intend to spend the rest of my life making up to you," Rumple said earnestly, "If you'll permit me, I'll explain everything. There are no excuses, but there's so much you should have been told."
Bae sniffed and nodded, then looked up at his mother, who was crying openly at the sight of him. "Mama," he whispered, leaning over to rest his head against her hip. She clutched him tightly and wrapped her hands around his shoulders. "My boy," she replied, kneeling down and pressing her head against his. "You're home."
"Bae?"
Baelfire pulled back slightly, and glanced over his shoulder to see the girl and two other boys standing side by side, watching the scene with confusion. Next to them, Nana sat, eyes fixed on the intruders, looking ready to attack if given the word.
Standing up, Bae wiped his eyes, then gestured to his parents. "These are my parents," he said at length, sounding proud of the fact. "Mama, Papa. This is Wendy, John, and Michael Darling. They're my….brothers and sister."
"But you said your parents were dead," young Michael said innocently, and Bae winced, feeling his parent's eyes fall on him. He'd told them as much, an angry and confused young boy who'd been convinced that he would never see his parents again.
"I was….wrong," Bae admitted sheepishly. "I never thought I'd see them again."
Belle and Rumple shared a pained look, then Belle stood, wiping the dirt off her dress and stepped toward the other children. Wendy looked at her nervously, but Belle offered her a gentle smile. "Maybe someday Baelfire can tell you everything," she told the young girl, "But for now, I think it's time he came home."
Wendy nodded in understanding. "Can we see him again?"
"Of course!" Belle said, telling the girl the address where they were staying. "We owe you and your family our deepest gratitude. You took care of our son. That is not something we will take lightly."
"He's family," John shrugged, "You take care of family. That's what Papa always says."
"Your papa is a smart man," Belle replied. "Now, if you'll excuse us…"
Belle turned, watching as Bae helped his father to stand. His suit was dusty and wrinkled, and his face red from crying, but in that moment he'd never looked so content.
Belle returned to their side and helped support Rumple, while nodding for Bae to go speak to his friends. Stepping forward slowly, Bae looked at Wendy apologetically. Despite wanting to go with his parents, he'd made a family with the Darling children, and though he knew his mother and father would welcome the children with open arms, he felt a pang of sorrow at having to leave them behind. Wendy saw the look on Bae's face and, perceptive sister as she was, offered him an encouraging smile. "Go on, Bae," she said softly, "We'll see you soon."
"Promise?"
Wendy nodded, then hugged Bae tightly. "You'll always be our brother," she said, "But now you don't have to share a room anymore."
Bae laughed, and the sorrowful tension melted. He hugged the boys, and ruffled Nana's fur, then stepped back toward his parents. "I'll see you guys soon."
Wendy wrapped her arms around her youngest brother, who had started to tear up at Bae's departure. "Don't worry, Michael," she soothed as she watched Bae retreat, "He hasn't seen the last of us."
Bae stood before his parents and smiled. "Come on," he said, as he took his mother's hand. "Take me home."
~000~
Baelfire sat in the small sitting room, fidgeting with the tea cup as he stared at his father nervously. Belle had insisted they have time to themselves to talk, but neither seemed to know what to say to the other. She'd always been the mediator, and though it had been a long time since he'd spoken with his father, he suddenly wished his mother was there to be the go-between for them. But she'd insisted that Rumple face his son without her presence, and so Baelfire sat in a wingback chair, sipping fresh black tea and waiting for his father to finally start speaking.
His father was staring at him, which was unsurprising. It had been a few years since they'd last seen each other, but Bae was beginning to feel a bit weary of his father's scrutiny. He couldn't blame him entirely, for wanting to soak up the image. Bae found himself astounded by his father's appearance. He remembered the man before the monster, but so many of his nightmares had been centered on the man with green skin, not the man with the cane and graying hair before him. It was hard to reconcile the two images into the same person, and for the first time Bae wondered just what his parents had sacrificed to get to him. Feeling strange, Bae looked away, and thought not for the first time that he was grateful to have something in his hands with which he could occupy himself.
Taking a sip of tea, Baelfire realized that his father was probably as uncertain what to say as he was. Baelfire had often dreamed of a day when he was reunited with his family, and had rehearsed what he would say thousands of times. But now that he was faced with his father, none of the intricately thought out words seemed to be good enough. He'd planned speeches in which he dismissed his family in favor of the Darlings; he'd planned speeches in which he begged to know why he was let go and what took them so long. Now he wasn't sure what to say or what to think.
He lifted his eyes to his father's once more, and Rumple gripped his tea cup tighter in response. His eyes were pained, and Bae glanced down to where his father's leg was propped up, and not for the first time Bae wondered just what had caused his father's condition. Before he realized what he was doing, he spoke.
"How badly does it hurt?"
Rumple blinked, and his eyes focused more clearly on his son. "Pardon?"
Bae nodded downward. "Your leg."
"Oh," Rumple paused. "Like hell."
"You know, you never told me what happened," Bae mused aloud, "I've heard the stories and rumors, and Mama gave me some vague reason too, but you've never actually told me what you did."
Rumple looked from Bae to his leg and back again. "It's not a pretty tale."
Bae shrugged, "I'm not looking for a bedtime story. I want the truth."
It was a truth long overdue. With a nod, Rumple leaned forward and rolled up the leg of his pants. Bae winced involuntarily at the sight of the damaged leg, his stomach flipping as he tried not to look away in disgust.
"I was told by a seer while I was away at the Ogre Wars that I would be a father," Rumple began, "And that my actions on the battlefield would leave my child fatherless. At first I didn't believe her, but then she said some other things that eventually came true. At that, I began to believe that I would die. I was so afraid; I couldn't abandon you, your mother. So, the night before the largest battle, I…" Rumple paused, steeling himself. Bae watched his father relive the memories, biting his lip nervously as Rumplestiltskin shivered.
"I crushed my leg so I would be dismissed. So I could come home to you."
Bae stared with wide eyes at his father. "You did that to yourself!"
Rumple nodded.
"For…me?"
Again, Rumple nodded, his eyes falling away, not able to look at his son.
"Why?"
Rumplestiltskin's head shot up, looking at Bae with a pained expression in his eyes. "Why?" He asked, aghast, "Because I love you, son."
Baelfire felt tears beginning to fall, but he vigorously ignored them. Instead he swallowed and asked the one thing he'd longed to know since he landed on the other side of the portal. "Then how could you let me go?"
Despite the obvious amount of pain he was in, Rumple stood long enough to kneel in front of Baelfire, his leg stretched out so as to alleviate some of the pain. He laid his hand on Bae's, which was still gripping the cup in a white-knuckled hold.
"Because the last time I went through a portal like that, I learned that my father didn't love me."
Then it all came spilling out, and Bae sat in mute shock as he listened to the tale of his father's wretched life. None of the things Rumple spoke of had ever been mentioned before, and Bae was astounded at just how little he knew his father. He listened as Rumple spoke of the man who used a little boy's hope at a new life and then abandoned him for eternal youth. He listened to Rumple's life with the spinsters, shunned by the village for being the son of such a man. He listened as Rumple explained how seeing his son beg him for a second chance by going through a portal had brought back too many painful memories he hadn't been able to express, and that his fear of ending up like his own father had caused him to do the very thing of which he'd been so utterly afraid.
It didn't excuse Rumplestiltskin's behavior in the least, but it certainly explained it.
"So that's why you didn't want to use the bean," Bae sighed when his father's explanation was done, "It wasn't about your magic, it was about what happened with your father."
Rumplestiltskin's whole body shook, the relief of finally telling the truth a heavy weight lifted. But there was still more to tell, and now that he had the chance, he wasn't going to squander it. "I won't lie and say it wasn't about the magic. I didn't want to let go of it. I finally had power to protect my family, and I let that corrupt everything. Instead of trusting in us, I put my trust in magic, and let it take over. But I made you a deal!" He added quickly, wanting to make sure his son understood, "Had it been anything else, I would have done it. But that portal….I just….I couldn't. I'm sorry, son."
Bae sat for a long time, reflecting on his father's words. He believed him, but it didn't change the fact that he was still hurt. Knowing his father was sorry didn't take away half a year of starvation and living on the streets. But it did prove that his father was a good man. His mother had always believed that, and now he did too.
"I'm still angry," Bae whispered at length, "And I'm going to be angry for a while."
"I understand son."
His father's easy acceptance of his anger shocked him, causing him to add, "But I can't lie and say I'm not really happy you're here."
"I'll spend my life making it up to you, Bae," Rumple pledged, "I'll do whatever it takes, I promise."
Shaking his head, Baelfire moved his hands away from his father and placed the tea cup on the table. "I don't want more promises and lifetimes of apologies," Bae said, "I just….I just want to know that you've changed, and that we can be together."
"I have. I know it'll take time for that to be proven, but I have changed. And I'll be here for as long as you want me. The same applies to your mother, I'm sure."
Bae nodded. "That's all I ever wanted."
Looking down, Bae met his father's eyes, which were filled with such fear and hope that Bae couldn't resist the urge to comfort his father. For all that had happened, his Papa had only ever done the things he'd done out of love, and while Bae was angry, he was equally grateful for the man his father was. They had a long way to go; there was a lot that was yet to be said; but now Bae had a foundation on which to rebuild a solid relationship with his father. And he wasn't going to let that opportunity go to waste.
~000~
A week after his reunion with his parents, Baelfire found himself in the sitting room staring out the window at the night sky. It was nearly two in the morning, but Bae found himself unable to sleep. Ever since his talk with his father, things had been good in the house; there were still moments of hesitancy, and both his parents seemed intent to never leave him alone. Not that he blamed them. It was strange to suddenly look up and see the familiar face of his mother or father there, instead of the kind but foreign face of one of the Darling adults. They'd been kind to him, but they'd never quite felt like family, not the way Wendy, John, and Michael had. He missed them, despite their coming over for supper earlier that day. It had been a nice evening, but now Bae was feeling restless.
He missed the sounds of the nursery; Michael shaking Wendy awake when he had a nightmare, Wendy soothing his fears with a silly story or song. Nana's breathing and tail thumbing against the floor like a drumbeat. It had become a place of sanctuary, and Baelfire missed it terribly.
He had no desire to go back, not really. He was happy to be with his parents, but he felt that, no matter how good things were between them, that they would never be the same again. How could they? They were in a new world with no magic, and no one familiar save the Darlings. But not even they knew the whole story. Of course the children believed in magic, but Bae had been reluctant to tell them just how justified their belief was. He'd let it go, but he had no one to talk to about what he'd endured, and it reminded him of the deep chasm of loneliness he felt that separated him from the rest of the world. He could only tell his parents so much. He wished he could confide in someone who understood.
"Can't sleep either?"
Bae looked up to see his mother standing at the doorway, two steaming mugs in her hand. She joined him on the sofa and handed one to him. One sniff told him it was hot cocoa, and he smiled appreciatively at his mother.
"Thanks."
They drank in silence, then, placing her cup on the table, Belle pulled something out of the pocket of her robe.
"I am ashamed to say I nearly forgot about these until a few minutes ago. I'm glad I caught you up. I should have given them to you the moment you stepped into this house."
She held out the items, and Bae took them, surprised to see they were letters. He glanced up at his mother who pointed to the top one. "Read that one last."
Confused by her request, he let that one fall to his lap, then proceeded to open the other letter. After struggling for a moment, he put his own drink down and broke the seal, unfolding it to see the scribbles of-
"Anna!"
Belle giggled. "Yes."
Bae paused. "That means the other one's from-"
"Yes."
Bae looked away for a moment, then composed himself, and lifted the letter to the moonlight to read. While he did, Belle stood and lit a few candles to make the task easier. While she moved, Bae laughed at something in the letter. She sat back down across from Bae just as he finished, and he smiled at her toothily. "I miss her," he said shaking his head. Anna had always made him laugh, and reading her letter had given him the lift he needed.
He looked down to his lap, where Moraine's letter lay. With a shaking hand he picked it up, opening the letter and reading it slowly.
Bae,
I don't have a lot of time and there is so much I want to say. But your father is leaving soon so I must be brief.
I miss you. There is an emptiness in my heart that your absence has left, and I can only hope that one day I will see you again, and this ache will go away. I hope that doesn't sound selfish. I don't want to be selfish, but I wish for nothing as much as I wish to see you again.
I should have told you sooner, but I love you. And I know you feel – or at least felt – the same. And that brings me a small comfort. But I wanted you to know, once your parents find you again as I know they will, that I love you very much.
I have so much else I want to say, but I will wait until the day when I see you again. Because I refuse to believe otherwise. Please be well, and stay safe, Baelfire. Know you are loved.
-Moraine
Bae looked up from the letter to see Belle watching him, a knowing smile on her face.
"You were right," Bae sighed, glancing down at the letter, "I should have told her."
"She knew."
"It's not the same."
"No," Belle said, moving closer and pulling Bae to lean against her, "But at least she knows. And who knows, maybe one day we'll figure out a way to go back."
"I thought that was impossible?"
Belle shrugged, "We thought getting to you was impossible. And yet, here we are."
"You and Papa haven't told me how you got here."
"We've been catching up with you. And your father didn't want to rush things. He wanted you to ask in your own time."
"Can you tell me now?"
"Some," she agreed, "But I think this is a conversation best left for all of us."
"No time like the present, then."
Belle and Bae looked up to see Rumple dressed in his nightgown and robe, cane in one hand, candle in the other. He stepped forward and Bae moved over to give his father some room. He took the proffered seat, leaving Bae sandwiched between mother and father. He seemed content though, and watched his father in the dim light.
"It all started with a curse," Rumple began. Bae's eyes widened.
"A curse!"
Belle pressed her finger over Bae's lips, playfully shushing him. "Your father's telling a story," she whispered, "Let's listen."
Bae did listen. And the story his father told him left him amazed.
"So what happened to the curse?" He asked when at last the tale was finished.
"Destroyed," Rumple told him, "No one will ever be able to use it."
Bae let out a sigh of relief. "Good." After a moment, he said, "I'm glad you found another way."
"Thank your mother, son," Rumple smirked, "We wouldn't be here if not for her."
"You didn't have to use it though," Bae said, "You chose the better path."
"I'm trying to be a better man," Rumple admitted, "Though I may be working on that for a long time."
Bae leaned forward, out of his mother's embrace, and hugged his father. "I think you've made a decent start," he said before standing and yawning.
"I think I'm finally tired," he said. "I'm going to go to bed."
His parents agreed, and after several hugs and kisses, Baelfire went back to his quiet room where he let his thoughts wander to the Enchanted Forest and Moraine. He wondered if he could ask his father about finding a way back to see her, even if it was temporary. It couldn't hurt to try.
Rolling onto his side, Bae went to sleep, Moraine's letter clutched in his hand. He didn't feel so lonely anymore.
~000~
Once they were tucked into their own bed, Belle sighed. "I've missed this."
Rumple, for his part, was only half asleep. "Missed what?"
"Having our whole family together."
"It is quite a wondrous feeling to know our son is only a room away," Rumple agreed.
"He's grown so much," Belle mused, "He's practically a man now."
"A man we're both quite proud of, I think."
Belle hummed in agreement. "It's quite amazing, how far we've all come."
Rumplestiltskin allowed himself to dwell on that thought. He recalled a day many years ago when he'd awoke feeling helpless and hopeless. He'd been alone and despised, having nothing to look forward to in life. Then Belle had swept in, bringing with her life, light, and love. Then she'd given him a son, whom his whole world revolved around. For so long, Rumplestiltskin couldn't imagine life without his boy. Then he'd lived through that very nightmare.
Now they were reunited. Despite everything, against all the odds, Rumplestiltskin had overcome every obstacle, including himself, and now had everything he could ever want. Living in London wasn't ideal, but it was a much better life than that of a reviled peasant's son or an all-feared Dark One. Here, he could be just a man, with a lovely wife and handsome son, and a respectable reputation. He realized then he would need to do something to occupy his time now, and thought of several business opportunities that might be of merit. He'd run them by his family in the morning, and see what they thought. He would do things right this time around, he decided firmly. He would be a man his family could be proud of.
He would be a man he could be proud of. And he knew, as he wrapped his arms around his wife, that no matter what path he chose to walk, whatever mountains he climbed or valleys he traversed, his family –his whole family - would be by his side.
"Yes," he answered quietly, "It's quite amazing, indeed."
The End
Author's Notes:
And that's it…
Thank you everyone who took the time to read this story! I'm extremely honored and grateful for your support and your kind words. This has been an incredible journey, and while I'm sad to see it end, I'm also proud to say I've completed my second novel-length work. :-D
Now for some housekeeping:
For a long time I debated on what I would do after The Valley came to an end. Do I step away and work on some original ideas? Do I just take a break? After some internal debating, I can happily share with you that I am beginning work on a new Rumbelle fic, which is currently untitled. It will be another FTL AU, full of political intrigue. I look forward to sharing it with you. However, November is a busy month for me (my birthday, thanksgiving, my father's birthday, the Rumbelle Secret Santa on Tumblr, and continued remodeling of my house) so I can't guarantee when posting will start.
So keep an eye out here for that. I've got the whole thing worked out, it's just a matter of sitting down to actually write it. (And it's only 18 chapters – MUCH shorter than my two other multi-chapter fics!)
Additionally, I have an ongoing series on my Tumblr page, for those who are interested in more from me until the new fic begins. It's called Tales from the Driver's Seat, a prompt series which focuses on the lives of stage and screen actor John Gold and his personal driver, Belle French. I will be posting the series on here at some point, I just haven't gotten around to it yet. So far there are 20+ installments, so feel free to check that out and leave a prompt if you wish! My tumblr name is the same as this one, so I shouldn't be too hard to find.
That's all for now. Again, thank you everyone for sharing this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's hard to say goodbye to The Valley, as it's very dear to my heart, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
Until next time, dears.
-Woubazoid
Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or its characters. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.