VII

Welcome to Camden, Maine

Population: 5,200

Rumpelstiltskin blinked owlishly at the large green sign near the side of the roadway, surprise alight in his deep sable eyes. For a moment, he wanted to blame the feeble moonlight for having read it wrong. Squinting at the sign once more, he frowned. Even Longborne and Stratfordshire couldn't boast of so much citizenry.

The wealth of knowledge still filtering through his mind tried to tell him the settlement was relatively small compared to other parts of the new land they were in, but it was a bit unbelievable to say the least.

Baelfire searched the horizon where the first streaks of lavender painted the sky, almost too faint to see amidst the artificial light dotting the town. His feet hurt, his stomach growled, and his eyes were heavy, but he refused to complain. His father had traveled miles at his side on his bad ankle and hadn't even stopped to rest. Were the boy allowed to sit down, he doubted his mind would allow him to sleep. Excited for a new adventure, and free of Pan, his mind was a whirl. He just wished they could find shelter so his papa could answer the questions troubling him.

One question couldn't be put off any longer, however. "Papa, what are we going to do about papers? These things in my head … we're going to need some form of identification. And what about money? How are we going to pay for a hotel or food or -"

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled softly and patted the leather bag hanging against his side. "As I said before, I refused to leave anything to chance as I prepared to come and fetch you."

Bae's forehead furrowed as one dark brow quirked in confusion. "Papa, are you saying you brought magic to a land without? How's that gonna work exactly?"

His father shot him a wry grin, biting back the giggle he would have shown to anyone else. "Much like the bracelet you have on your wrist, son. This land has no magic of its own. It could very well be that belief died off centuries past or was forced out by religious fanatics. However, there is no rule saying magic cannot exist within an object brought into this world." At Baelfire's crestfallen expression, Rumpelstiltskin rested a hand on his son's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing I've brought with me will ever harm a living soul. The tools in this bag will help us find a strong foothold in this world, but it will never hurt anyone. I promise you this."

"So … no dark magic?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "I'm not the same man I was, Bae. Just as the bracelets will give us knowledge, my bag will give us what we need to survive. It will transform the gold I brought with me to the currency needed in this land, identification - though I'm not certain what identity the magic will choose for us - and anything else we might need."

The teen rubbed his belly as it emitted a fearsome growl. "You wouldn't happen to have something to eat in there, would you, Papa?" he grumbled.

A wide grin split Rumpelstiltskin's face. "I promise we'll get you something filling when we find shelter."

"I can't wait!" Baelfire cried softly with a new burst of energy. "And I'm not forgetting you owe me a story."

*.*.*

Rain lashed the Dark Castle, and fierce winds rattled the windows, a fitting tumult to match the emotions running amok in its mistress. Belle pounded the dough she was kneading, a myriad of baked goods littering the long workbench in her kitchen as she worked through her frustrations. Baking had always been something which soothed her, even before she'd made her deal with Rumpelstiltskin. She might not have been able to cook very well before coming to live at the Dark Castle, but she'd always had a love of baking.

Another tear slid from the corner of her eye, and she brushed it away with an irritated hand, leaving behind another streak of flour on her cheek. Her father had kissed her goodnight and wished her pleasant dreams, but she'd not been able to find peace among the familiar surroundings of her childhood bedroom. It should have brought her comfort. Instead, she'd tossed and turned for hours, her mind filled with her master, her love. Where was he? Was he safe? Had the bean taken him to his lost son? And the most prevalent question of all … was he coming back?

With a huff, she'd pulled her dress back on and gave a twist of the bracelet Rumpelstiltskin had placed on her wrist. The magic had stolen her breath as it had transported her home to the Dark Castle. A wave of relief had settled upon her as soon as the smoke had cleared. It had worked just as he'd promised.

Belle punched the dough with more force than necessary and continued on with her self-appointed task. Being home should have made her happy, but it wasn't the same without her master. She tried to convince herself he was just off on one of his deals and would be home any day, any moment, but she was smart enough to know when she was deluding herself.

The breath hitched painfully in her chest. Despite her plea for him to return to her, there was no guarantee he would, even should he find his son. Perhaps the boy didn't want to return to the Enchanted Forest. She may never see her beloved sorcerer again. A sob forced its way past her lips before she could bite it back, and she inwardly scolded herself for overreacting and jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

Belle transferred the dough to a bowl and covered it with a clean piece of cheesecloth, setting it above the mantel of the hearth to rise. She flopped down onto her stool at the workbench and surveyed the loaves of date and nut bread her father adored along with the tea cakes and peach tarts which always brought a smile to her master's face.

She would wrap up the bread and place it in the basket she would be bringing with her to Avonlea when she returned in the morning. She hadn't forgotten her promise to her father. She would do what she could to help her cousin Gabriel until Rumpelstiltskin returned. He was a smart lad, a scholar like herself. With the right instruction, he'd make a fine heir to succeed Maurice as king.

As she wrapped the last loaf, a wave of magic assailed her, a warning emanating from her mother's pendant containing the protective charms Rumpelstiltskin had insisted upon before he'd left. Instinctively, she knew the wards had been breached. She'd felt the sensation too many times not to recognize it now.

Belle stopped herself from bolting from the room. What if it wasn't Rumpelstiltskin returning? How was she supposed to fend off anyone bent on doing her harm. She wasn't about to stand aside and let some thief loot their home. She squared her shoulders and reached for the fireplace poker in its stand next to the hearth, weighing it in her hand. It wasn't a sword, but it would do in a pinch. It wasn't as if she had a trove of weapons stashed in the food locker.

Her ears pricked, attuned to any sound as she crept up the stairs to the main floor of the castle. She tried to keep her breathing steady as she moved down the hallway leading to the great room, but it was difficult as fear coated the very back of her tongue. Could someone have possibly discovered Rumpelstiltskin's absence?

Belle continued to trek forward, weapon in hand, as the lengthening shadows concealed her presence. As many times as she'd spied on her master and his visitors to the castle, she had a large number of hiding spots. The one she chose now allowed her to peek around the open doors of the great hall and see clearly whoever had breached their home.

She wasn't expecting … fairies?

Belle's nose wrinkled as her brow knit in confusion. How had fairies gained entrance to the castle when the magic protecting the fortress would incinerate them on sight? Something was definitely fishy, and it wasn't the lovely trout Mrs Potts had served for dinner at her father's table.

Confident the enchantment in her pendant would protect her, Belle stepped away from her hiding place and cleared her throat to gain their attention. "I don't mean to interrupt, but would it be too much of an inconvenience to tell me why you've broken into my home? I can assure you, the Dark One doesn't abide fairies in his castle."

The two swung around to face her - abandoning their perusal of a rack of fairy wands atop a pedestal - seemingly startled by the presence of the Dark One's maid, but the brunette fairy recovered quickly and pasted a benign smile on her face.

Belle's eyes narrowed, hoping they weren't going to try their hand at goodness and light. She was all too aware that fairies never wanted to lift a finger to help unless it was offering some well-meaning advice. When Belle had sought Rheul Ghorm's help when ogres were knocking down the front gate, the queen fairy had told her to pray and have faith the gods would answer her prayers. It was out of her hands. Bloody useless beings, in her opinion. Then again, her master's hatred of them might have rubbed off on her just a wee bit.

It took Belle raising the poker in her hand threateningly before she finally got the answers she sought.

"Pardon the intrusion, Miss. we mean you no harm," Tinkerbell cut in before Tiger Lily could begin to explain. She really didn't want to get anywhere near the iron poker Belle held tightly in her hand. "Rumpelstiltskin sent us."

Belle blinked owlishly before a peel of laughter erupted from her throat. "Nice try, but there's no way my master would hand over the keys to the castle. Especially not to a fairy."

Tiger Lily stepped in front of Tinkerbell before the younger fairy could put her foot further into the quagmire. "She speaks the truth, I assure you. We were trapped on Neverland, banished there by Rheul Ghorm for failing our charges."

Tinkerbell snorted. "We didn't fail our charges. Blue just didn't like our methods. She deemed our actions unbecoming of a fairy. Sanctimonious troll."

Belle lowered the poker and gestured them over to the table to have a seat. "Now, that I believe. I'd offer tea, but -" She was cut off as the castle provided a tea tray and several choices of baked goods Belle had made that evening. She settled into Rumpelstiltskin's chair at the head of the table and poured the steaming brew into the waiting cups. "You were saying?" she asked, wanting to get to the heart of the story. "How does Rumpel come into this?"

Not wanting to seem rude - despite being wary of refreshments provided by an enchanted castle - Tiger Lily accepted the cup and prepared it to her liking before continuing her tale. "Baelfire, Rumpelstiltskin's son, was trapped on Neverland as well. He'd been captured and brought to the island by Pan's shadow centuries ago."

Tinkerbell wasn't shy in the least as she took a piece of the date bread and nibbled the crust. "Once you've come to Neverland, there's no way off unless Pan allows it."

Belle smiled sadly. "Or unless the Dark One deems otherwise." Her gaze was hopeful as it swung between the two fairies. "So, Rumpel was able to reunite with his son? Is he bringing him home?"

Tiger Lily returned her smile. "They were reunited, Miss -"

"Belle … my name is Belle," she interrupted. If she were to offer hospitality to them, having them call her miss was out of the question.

"Belle," Tinkerbell grinned, "almost like me."

"So, you said Rumpel sent you?"

Tiger Lily nodded as Belle refilled her cup. "Yes," she confirmed. "Tink and I watched over Baelfire on Neverland, offered him sanctuary with us when we could. Rumpelstiltskin was grateful for the care we offered his son."

"When he learned we'd been banished there, he gave us a bean to send us home and the choice of a wand so we might be able to help others without bending to Blue's will," Tinkerbell interjected, feeling Tiger Lily was taking entirely too long to get to the good part. "If Lily hadn't known human magic as well as fairy magic, I don't think we'd have survived Neverland."

Belle leaned forward in her chair and clasped the blonde's hand affectionately. "I'm so glad Rumpel was able to help you. However, it doesn't explain how you got past the wards." To imagine her master aiding fairies still seemed a bit too unbelievable.

Tiger Lily pulled a small flask from the inside of her sleeve and held it out to Belle. "The Dark One gave us a bit of his blood so we could enter. He didn't mention he had a maid, though."

Belle felt her cheeks heat up at the implication. "Probably because I'm supposed to be in Avonlea with my father until my master returns. Did he say when he would be back?"

Some of Tinkerbell's enthusiasm dimmed because she couldn't give her new friend the answer she wanted. "No, he didn't. He didn't share his plans with us. I'm sorry."

Belle lifted her chin bravely and tried to push away her disappointment. "Well, then I'll just have to be patient and await his return." She rose from the table and gestured to the pedestal which held the rack of fairy wands. "In the meantime, let's find you both a suitable wand." If it were what Rumpelstiltskin wished, she'd make sure his deal was fulfilled.

Despite her brave smile, her heart felt as if it were breaking. She looked for the well of inner strength she so often relied on, and refused to give up on the man she loved. Someday, somehow, he would come back to her. She just hoped it would be soon.

*.*.*

Six months later …

Baeden Gold waved from the sidewalk as he settled onto the seat of his red Schwinn. "Bye, Mr. Cooper, see you Monday!" he called cheerily, turning the bike towards home.

The backpack bounced gently against him as he peddled through town where his tutor lived. Thankfully, it was only twenty minutes from the home he shared with his papa, and only ten minutes from the little antique shop Rumpelstiltskin had opened a few months ago. It wasn't as if they needed the money – not with all the gold the former dark one had stuffed into his magic rucksack – but the shop gave Rumpelstiltskin something to do with the abundance of free time he had to spare. It was normal.

It hadn't taken the two of them long to settle into the town of Camden, Maine. One of the first things his papa had done was set Bae up with a tutor. The boy had barely been able to read, his maths were nowhere near passable, and his signature was abysmal. His boy needed an education to function in this new world, and Rumpelstiltskin was determined he have it.

He weaved around a parked car outside of the candy store and waved at Mrs Dillard as she came outside to pull in the slate board listing her sales items. It was nearly closing time for many of the businesses on Main Street, and he could see the lights were off and the closed sign already turned on his papa's shop door. Rumpelstiltskin always made sure he was home in time to start dinner before Bae arrived home from his tutoring sessions.

Bae's legs pumped harder as he reached the road leading up the hill where the Victorian sat overlooking Penobscot Bay. He grinned as he looked up at the small mansion, remembering the state of disrepair it had been in when his father had bought it. Baelfire had been skeptical at first, but when the contractors and laborers arrived and began work on the structure, he'd changed his mind. This was Rumpelstiltskin's way of making a home for them, a life, a foothold in this world.

It made him worry and wonder why his father still seemed so sad and melancholy at times. The former mage always tried to be cheerful around his son, but sometimes, his mind seemed to drift to something to which Baelfire wasn't privy. Bae shook his head as he turned into the driveway and parked his bike next to the wide front porch. He knew Rumpelstiltskin missed his magic, but he had missed Baelfire even more. There was no choice when it came to the two; Bae would win every time.

But how to get his father to open up to him? Even before he'd become the dark one, Rumpelstiltskin hadn't been one to openly share his feelings. It frustrated Bae sometimes beyond his endurance.

The boy trudged up the front steps of the dove grey Victorian and barreled into the foyer, his legs feeling like jelly from the long ride up the hill. He couldn't wait until he could learn to drive. It still amused him to remember how terrified Rumpelstiltskin had been when he'd enrolled in the driving school. His father had been sure he'd never learn, but Bae had kept after him, helping him study as much as he could, and basically encouraging him until he'd finished the course. Now, the sleek black Cadillac sitting in the drive was a testament to Rumpelstiltskin's hard work.

Baelfire was truly happy and content for the first time in years, a few centuries worth of years, and grateful to have his father at his side. He'd spent so long hating what Rumpelstiltskin had become, a sacrifice to save him, nonetheless, but he was more the man he'd been in this world and less the dark demon he'd been in the Enchanted Forest. Bae had been ill when his father had told him the truth about why he hadn't been able to follow him into the portal. The boy had actually had to leave the room when Rumpelstiltskin had told the tale of Malcolm's abandonment and transformation into Pan. To have lived on Neverland and treated to Pan's sadistic whims, the mind games and violence all in the name of fun … it made him happy he hadn't known the man was his grandfather.

His stomach rumbled at the smell of something wonderful wafting from the kitchen. Bae wanted to laugh at his father's new hobby. He hadn't thought it a worthy pastime when Rumpelstiltskin had taken to watching the cooking shows on public access television when there were so many more entertaining programs available. He'd quickly changed his mind when his father began cooking the recipes he'd learned. Now, the former mage was becoming quite the chef.

"Bae, is that you, son?" he heard his father call from the kitchen.

The only other person to have a key to the house was their handyman, Mr. Dove. The man had been living on the streets, in the alley next to the antique shop, in fact. Rumpelstiltskin had recognized a desperate soul even without his magic and offered Dove a job and the caretaker's apartment over the garage. He was quiet, soft-spoken, and dedicated to his job. Bae was just glad his papa had made a friend.

"Yeah, Papa," Bae replied, slinging his backpack atop the kitchen table. "You'll never guess what happened today."

Rumpelstiltskin removed the roasting pan from the oven and set it atop the stove before turning a grin on his son. "Let me see … Your tutor said you were ready to take the standardized tests, and if you pass, you will be able to enter high school in the fall."

Bae's face fell. "He told you?" the boy whined. "I wanted to be the one to tell you."

His father chuckled, the few lines around his eyes crinkling with mirth. "He called me this morning to discuss your options, the cost of the tests, and how much longer you would need to study with him. Your tutor assures me he has never quite known anyone with such an eager mind." Rumpelstiltskin pulled his boy close and wrapped an arm about Bae's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. "I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you, lad."

Baelfire beamed up at him, basking in his father's praise. He held up his arm, the gold cuff gleaming about his wrist. "Well, I did have some help." He took a seat on the stool at the island and watched his father remove the chicken from the pan, transferring it to the cutting board for carving. "Do you really think I'm ready, Papa? High School is a big step and I'll be going to school with hundreds of other students …" His voice trailed off before it broke completely with a bout of nerves. "What if I don't fit in? What if I can't make any friends, or they don't like me because I'm too different or something?"

Rumpelstiltskin knew all too well the fears his son was battling through. All he could do was try to encourage him. "This is our fresh start, remember? Baelfire, you have always been one to jump right into the fray and find your own niche. This time will be no different. There are no rumors of our past and I'm not the town coward to drag you down here in this world. Just be your bright, brilliant self, my son, and you can do anything you wish to do."

Bae blushed. His papa always seemed to know what to say, even if it sometimes embarrassed the hell out of him. A smirk settled on his lips once his cheeks cooled. "So, what you're saying is that everything will work itself out."

"Of course," Rumpelstiltskin replied as if it were a foregone conclusion. "And if it doesn't, we'll find a way to make it so."

The boy swallowed nervously, seeing a bit of the old darkness at play behind his father's sable eyes. He knew the Dark One still lurked in his father's soul, but thankfully he was powerless in this land.

"Alright, lad," his father motioned to the cupboard, "go on and set the table for dinner."

Throughout a delicious meal of roasted chicken and vegetables, they talked about Bae's new opportunity to join the high school to further his education, a watch Rumpelstiltskin had finished repairing, and their favorite tv shows. It was quiet … peaceful … normal … and Bae loved it.

They had cleared the table, stored the leftovers and had begun loading the dishwasher – marvelous invention, that – when Rumpelstiltskin remembered the package which had arrived that afternoon.

"Oh, son, the books we ordered for your summer reading list arrived today. They're in the study if you'd like to have a look," he said, grinning as Baelfire groaned. "I can finish up here."

A long-suffering sigh was his answer. "I don't know why I have to read all those books. Waste of a good summer if you ask me. I mean, I could be out looking for a part time job, or fishing and swimming in the cove. Instead, I have to read like fifteen books. And have you read some of the summaries on that order form. I'm gonna be bored to tears!"

Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "It's required reading, Bae. Besides, you love reading now that you've learned, and every book you read only strengthens your skills and vocabulary."

"I guess," he agreed. "I just don't know why I have to read a book called 'The Lord of the Flies'. Ugh!"

His father swatted him with a dishtowel and pointed a long finger towards his study. "Go! Maybe we can go to the bookstore this weekend and find some of those graphic novels you favor, or a few novels which might catch your interest. Perhaps, we might be able to turn that spare room into a library."

"That actually sounds kind of cool, Papa. We could –"

"Study. Books. Now," his papa growled.

Baelfire rolled his eyes and trotted off in the direction of his father's study. "Fine, I'm going."

His petulant reply made Rumpelstiltskin chortle with laughter, the sound following Bae down the hall.

The box was sitting on the corner of the massive oak desk, easy for Baelfire to spot. It was unopened, Rumpelstiltskin refusing to open a package which wasn't addressed to him. Bae was delighted. Opening packages were always part of the fun. Unfortunately, he hadn't brought anything with him to slice through the tape.

Rounding the desk, he opened the middle drawer in his search for a pair of scissors or a letter opener. They were both there, but so was a large black book lying atop everything. His papa never put anything but office supplies in that drawer, and this looked as if it were hastily shoved inside as though he'd been interrupted and didn't want anyone to see what was written within the pages.

Bae knew he shouldn't look if it was something his father wanted to keep to himself, but reasoned that Rumpelstiltskin hadn't wanted to keep anything from him before. What would be the harm to take a peek inside? Withdrawing the large, slim book, he chanced a glance at the door to make sure he was still alone. And then the world felt as if it were being ripped from beneath his feet.

Page after page of sketches filled the cartridge paper, all of the same woman in a variety of poses. Each one looked as if it had been drawn from memory, the woman always in profile as if she didn't know she were the subject of his father's drawings. The box of books forgotten, he couldn't seem to take his eyes from the detail on each page. She was incredibly beautiful, and he couldn't help but wonder how his father knew her. He flipped back to the beginning and took them all in again. One sketch showed her sitting on a chaise, her feet tucked beneath her, reading a book, the outline of a spinning wheel to her right. Another was of her walking in a vast garden, a rose clasped between her fingers and a wistful smile upon her lips as she held it up to her nose to breathe it in. Baelfire was enraptured by the girl his father had captured on paper.

He was so caught up in the sketchbook – amazed by his papa's talent with a pencil – he never heard the door pushed further open. He couldn't miss the loud, exaggerated clearing of Rumpelstiltskin's throat, however.

Baelfire shot to his feet, the sketchbook falling open and landing in the center of his father's desk, sending a few papers and invoices flying. "Papa!"

Rumpelstiltskin leaned heavily on his cane and pressed a shoulder against the doorjamb, one brow arched at his son. "Yes, I believe that's the correct form of address," he drawled, taking in the guilty flush staining his Baelfire's cheeks. "Meddling, I see."

"Sorry, Papa, I was looking for something to open the box and the book was sitting on top of all the supplies and –"

The former mage shook his head and cut off the boy's hasty explanation. "And you couldn't help yourself when presented with a mystery, hmm?"

Baelfire grinned and flopped back down in his papa's chair, happy and relieved he wasn't in trouble. He ran a finger along the girl's cheek in the sketch, this one showing her kneading dough on a worktable in a large kitchen. "Who is she, Papa?"

Rumpelstiltskin picked up the sketchbook and closed it, moving to return it to the drawer, but Baelfire slammed the drawer shut, preventing it. He clutched the book close to his chest and debated whether he should lie or not despite his promise to be honest in all things. "No one. Now, come along … and bring your books. I have a sharp knife in the kitchen. We can look at them together, and –"

It was Bae's turn to cut off his papa. "She's not no one. There are countless sketches in this book, all drawn with a loving hand. You cared about this woman," the boy insisted. "Who is she?"

Rumpelstiltskin turned his back on his son, pain clouding his features for a long moment before he moved to the sideboard and poured himself a scotch.

"That bad, huh?" Bae asked softly, nodding to the glass in his father's hand as the former mage limped over to the leather sofa between two bookshelves. He could tell the woman in the sketches meant a great deal to his papa, otherwise he wouldn't be stalling for time. "The truth, Papa."

Rumpelstiltskin emitted a long-suffering sigh and took a long swallow of his drink before his gaze met Baelfire's. "She was my maid, my caretaker. Her name is Belle." Her name was a prayer on his breath. He couldn't possibly try to quell the longing in his voice or the slight moisture which came to his eyes. He was laying himself bare before his child to let him see the agony of his separation from the woman he loved. He refused to hide his feelings from his son now that his secret had been discovered.

Baelfire abandoned his seat in the desk chair to sit next to his papa on the sofa. "Your maid? How'd you convince her to come work for you? I mean … well you were kind of scary, Papa. I can't see too many maidens lining up to be your caretaker."

Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "No, I suppose not." He took another sip of his drink, the alcohol burning a hot path down his throat, and set his tumbler down on the coffee table. "She was the high princess of Avonlea, daughter to King Maurice, and his only heir."

"A princess?!"

His father shot him a baleful look. "Do you want to hear this story or not?"

Bae ducked his head sheepishly. "Sorry … but a princess?!"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head fondly and continued. "Their kingdom was plagued by ogres, and they had no recourse but to call upon me. They offered me gold, but I had no use for it. Instead, I wanted something a bit more special. I could see how treasured she was by her father, and decided in a moment of madness to ask for her, claiming I needed a caretaker for my estate." He laid the sketchbook across his lap and opened it to a page near the front where he'd drawn her wearing the golden gown. "In truth, I was lonely for companionship. I was slowly losing my humanity, and I knew I would never be fit to seek your forgiveness if I were truly a monster. Belle was so beautiful, so brave. She was pure light, my boy."

"And her father actually agreed to your price? Gods, Papa, how could you ask for a person?" Bae asked, horrified.

"All magic comes with a price," Rumpelstiltskin replied almost automatically. "The greater the magic, the higher the price. The king outright refused, unwilling to allow the beast to make off with his only child. It was Belle herself who agreed to come with me in exchange for her friends and family, their safety, and the prosperity of her kingdom. She claimed no one would decide her fate but her, and the deal was struck."

"She sounds very brave. I don't know if I would've had the courage to make a deal with the Dark One if it had been the one you took the curse from," the boy claimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I hope you didn't act like a git with her. All giggling and …" Bae executed one of Rumpelstiltskin's overembellished flourishes.

The former mage winced and looked away. "Perhaps … at first." At his son's bland look, he caved. "Fine! I was a complete arse," he grumbled.

Bae chuckled and swatted him with a throw pillow. "And she stayed? She didn't try to break her deal with you?"

A slow smile spread over Rumpelstiltskin's face as memories of Belle washed over him like a warm wave. "Not once. Belle was never afraid of me. She has an uncanny ability to read people. She delved right beneath the mask of the Dark One to find the man hidden beneath. After nearly a year in my castle, it's safe to say that she was my dearest – my only – friend. She is everything beautiful and kind in an ugly, ugly world. Belle looks for the good in everything, and if it's not there … she creates it." His smile trembled as he met his son's dark eyes. "It was my little maid and her papa who gave me the beans which led me to you."

"You love her," Baelfire said, a look of wonder upon his youthful features. It was a statement of fact, of truth, and one his father couldn't deny.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. "With everything I am, son. She made me feel human again, gave me hope for the future. I knew if I were ever able to reunite with you, I could fight off the darkness and try to be the father you deserved."

"Does she love you, too?"

His father shrugged, unwilling to dwell upon what his little dearie felt for him. "I don't know, Bae, but how could she? You know what I was in the Enchanted Forest. No one could ever love me," he murmured, his voice no more than a broken whisper.

Baelfire shot to his feet in frustration. He hated to hear his beloved father talk so deprecatingly about himself. "You don't know for certain, Papa! I loved you even though you were cursed. Belle could, too. You won't know until you ask her."

"Baelfire …" Rumpelstiltskin groaned, "we're building a life here, a home, putting down roots. We can't go back. I won't subject you to the Dark one even temporarily. Not again."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take!" Bae shouted back, watching his father's brow shoot skyward. He wasn't in the habit of yelling at his papa, but this was too important to allow Rumpelstiltskin to run away. "You shouldn't have to sacrifice your happiness because I wanted to come here."

Rumpelstiltskin ran a hand through his hair and then pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the mother of all migraines forming behind his eyes. "Bae … son, it's just not that simple. I've been gone half a year. There's no telling what Belle's life might be like now. She very well may be married for all we know."

Baelfire grinned, feeling his father caving. "If we don't go back, you'll always wonder 'what if'. What if she really loves you? What if she's waiting for you to return? What if –"

"I get your point. There's no reason to bludgeon it to death," his father drawled.

"I don't know why you didn't just bring her with you in the first place," the boy grumbled. "Would've saved you a trip and we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

Rumpelstiltskin stared at his son as if he'd grown another head. "I couldn't bring her with me into danger, Balefire. As prepared as I was, I still didn't know what to expect or even where you were for sure. How could I bring the woman I loved into the unknown with only a bag of tricks and a smirk?"

Bae grinned smugly. "Woman you love, eh? How'd it feel to admit it, Papa?"

His father opened his mouth to protest and then promptly snapped it closed. Eyes narrowed, he said, "You're being a brat."

"You're the cleverest person I know, Papa. I have to use what tools I have at my disposal," he snarked cheekily. Then, all laughter aside and shoulders squared with determination, he bolted from the room. "I'll grab our bag, you get the bean!"

"Baelfire, come back here," Rumpelstiltskin called after his son, suddenly terrified of the prospect of baring his soul to his little maid. "I haven't agreed to this endeavor."

Baelfire yelled down the stairs and his father had to step out into the hall to catch what he'd said. "Do you want me to fetch the leather from your closet or are you gonna wear the suit?"

The former mage wrinkled his nose at the thought of how his green gold skin would clash with the tasteful Armani suit he was wearing. He sighed in defeat. It appeared they'd be returning to the Enchanted Forest as per his son's request.

"The leather. Definitely the leather."