Gathering for the meeting with King Artem had brought a fair amount of ambivalence; Belle found herself concerned for multiple kingdoms, Phria couldn't shake the feeling a war was coming, while Rumple just wanted things cut and dried. When they arrived they'd found Gordana by the reception desk waiting for them as she picked at her cuticles – a clear sign of her nervousness. Ne'er a word left her lips as she'd quickly guided them up to the Guild's meeting room. Then, as soon as they were inside, she practically slammed the door closed and hurried back downstairs.

Rumple yanked out the seat at the head of the table and fell down into it, Belle went to stare out the arched windows while Phria began to pace; frankly Azzy, who sat by Belle, seemed the least bothered by the whole situation.

The previous day Gordana had told them the meeting hall looked more formal than her office or the rest of the Adventurers Guild building but, having seen it, Rumple understood what she'd actually meant was cleaner and better lit. The long table had an excessive amount of chairs and there was some hideous wood carving of a gathering which dominated most of the wall shared with the door. He could have asked Belle about it, she'd have surely known, but Rumple suspected it had something to do with the Guiding Saints the Drazvans were always going on about.

From his seat at the table's head, Rumple spied Phria as she continued to pace to his left. There wasn't anything frantic about it, just a burning worry he'd not expected from one as brave as her. Phria's tail wafted about with agitation while her lovely white ears threatened to droop.

"Darling, why don't you sit down for me?"

Though phrased as a question, it certainly wasn't one and, after a pause and small nod, Phria took a seat to his left. She was there to represent the Mages Guild, to represent Maximilian Demeer himself in a situation she didn't even fully understand, then there was that the man she intended to marry was the First Demon Lord and historically kings liked to go to war with them. If King Artem – if any kingdom or organization went to war with Rumple, Phria didn't know which side she'd end up on. On the one hand, she loved Rumple and wanted to be by his side for the rest of her life. On the other, she was the Valkyrie Captain and had made a vow to do her duty. However, when Rumple rested his hand atop hers, all of Phria's tensions drained away into nothingness.

"Take a breath, Phria, everything will be fine."

"He's right." Said Belle as she sat herself in the chair to Rumple's right with her back to the large windows. "King Artem is logical and reasonable, he won't jump to violence without a very good reason."

Phria lifted an eyebrow. "The Dark One has returned, isn't a good enough reason?"

"Not for him." Belle shook her head. "I've known him all my life, my papa and he are great friends. Demelza is one of my closest friends as well. King Artem asked for a meeting, he wishes to speak calmly, that is why he chose a neutral place."

Suddenly the door was thrown open again and Gordana guided in an older man with a beard: 'I assume this is Artem, then' said Rumple's mind. Several guards attempted to follow him inside – including one that screamed Lothario – but the King insisted they waited outside by the door. The second they'd spotted him, Phria had dropped into a bow with her head lowered while Belle had curtsied politely like the princess she was. Meanwhile, Rumple hadn't moved an inch. Gordana's face screamed at him that the chair at the table's head had been meant for King Artem but he'd have liked to see her try to move him. The door closed, silence lingered for a few moments, then Artem smiled boldly and threw open his arms.

"Oh Belle, I'm so pleased to see you safe." With a smile as equally bold, Belle filled the older man's arms for a hug she'd not known she'd needed. He was warm and smelt oddly of cinnamon. "You are safe, yes?"

Belle nodded. "Indeed, very safe." She stepped back and gestured to Phria who slowly rose to her feet but kept her head lowered. "This is Captain Phria Federlord of the Valkyries sent by the Grand Mage, and … I assume Rumpelstiltskin the Dark One needs no introduction."

Artem swallowed when he paused to take in the sight of the Dark One; golden-green skin, scaled just like the legends said, and eyes which seemingly bored deep into one's soul. Power radiated off of Rumple to the point Artem had to fight the urge to shy away or flee altogether. The women in his company though, they stood by his side without hesitation as though he were any other person; even Gordana appeared comfortable in his presence.

"No. No, I suppose there is no need for introductions, though I will announce myself for propriety's sake if nothing else." A hand was offered to Rumple, long fingers aged and adored with several ruby rings. "I am King Artem Van Winchell, son of Rupert, ruler of Dorovoth."

Rumple eyed the proffered hand a moment, kings didn't normally offer him their hands in greeting, much too afraid he'd bite them off. Still, Belle stared at him imploringly, so Rumple relented and shook the old man's hand. Soon they all found seats and Gordana did her best to get the conversation underway; the sooner they were all out of her Guild, the better.

"Azzy, sit." Belle commanded after a few moments when the waheela didn't quite know if he needed to be on alert or not.

"Perhaps I should begin by saying I have no doubts that you are indeed the Dark One, the True Demon Lord of legend. I do not need you to prove your power, I am already thoroughly convinced." Well, if that hadn't been a low-key way of asking him not to do anything destructive, Rumple didn't know what was. "I should probably also explain how I knew you had returned to Dreymyr, Lord Rumpelstiltskin. I'm sure Belle has told you that her father and myself are good friends, that she and my granddaughter are quite close. It is because of these friendships that I traveled to St. Claes to see Maurice. It is unlike the du Marchands to ignore correspondence and I needed to ease my concerns. Regardless of being unannounced, my visit was treated as a nuisance and I was told to leave with all the subtly of a church bell. I basically had to bully my way passed Gaston LeGume to see Maurice and when I did – something has been done to him, of that I am sure. I don't know what that man is planning but he has bewitched my friend to do it. I elected to play dumb and leave lest my throat be slit in the night, then I returned home with an unexpected cargo to continue my investigation."

A long sigh escaped Belle. "You're right, Your Majesty, my papa has been bespelled. All of this is down to Gaston and Haldor Tvon. They seek to take over Avonlea and then the other kingdoms by force. They did awful things to summon Rumple here, wanted to use him as a weapon but they couldn't control him and we got away. Tvon is using dark magic on my papa and who knows how many others. Wait! Did you see Lorrimer? Did you see my little brother?"

Artem nodded putting Belle at ease. "I did, yes. When I was there he had a fever but his nursemaid assured me it was quite mild. She was convinced he'd recover from it." He ran a hand through his white beard. "Dark magic explains what has been done to Maurice. It is as though his mind is there but he isn't in control of his own body; frightening. I suspected Gaston was behind all of this, he's always been greedy, though I feel you should be warned, Belle. Pierre LeGume died six days ago, Gaston is Duke LeGume now."

"Died or was murdered?" Phria mostly questioned herself but Artem still shrugged.

"He might have been ill some months back, but I think we can all make an educated guess on that topic, Captain."

Gordana might have been content to sit quietly and simply listen but Rumple wasn't. He leaned forward in his chair causing it to squeak a little as he rested his fingers into a pyramid.

"You said 'unexpected cargo' earlier, dearie, what did you mean by that? And how could you know I'd been summoned to this realm? Oh, and why are you so ready to believe me the First Demon Lord when every other person I've met has doubted me, demanded proof or both?"

Yes, that had been a thought on everybody's mind. Artem Van Winchell was known as a wise king, but he wasn't clairvoyant and hadn't met Rumple until that very day.

For a great many moments the old king was silent as though sorting through thoughts inside his mind. Just when Rumple had started to ponder releasing a hissed demand did a response finally leave the old king's lips.

"These summoning rituals, they don't work properly and I doubt they ever will. As a result, the rituals do their best to summon the next best thing. Well, the last time Tvon and Gaston attempted to summon you, the magic once again did its best. Instead of you, a boy was summoned."

Rumple's brow furrowed deeply in puzzlement. "A boy? Why a – no!" Brown eyes fixed on Artem as Rumple shot up from his chair so quickly Belle jumped, his fists slammed down on the wooden table to support him as he all but clambered upon it to loom towards Artem. "Name! What is the boy's name? Tell me, damn it!"

Rumple's expression could have probably been misinterpreted as rage or madness, but Artem was the only other father in that room and saw what really lurked inside the Dark One's eyes – pain; fear; dread and, there at the back, just a touch of hope. Once, long ago, Artem had taken Gottfried on a trip to St. Alucart with him; his son had only been about eight back then and had chased a wing ear off into the forest while they'd been camping for the evening. Of course the knights had located him quick enough and no harm had been done, but for those ten or so minutes, Artem had felt as though his whole world was falling apart. He'd screamed at himself and questioned why he'd not been a better father, why he'd taken his eyes off of Gottfried for even a second and felt bile rise in his throat when he thought of some savage teratect, hammer boar or other wild creature tearing his only son to bits. All that horror and pain over such a small event which had been swiftly dealt with without anybody so much as getting a scratch; so Artem could only imagine the pain Rumple felt at being separated from his boy for years with nothing but questions. No, Artem didn't wish that sort of pain on anybody.

"… Baelfire. His name is Baelfire."

Rumple dropped back into his chair, eyes fixed on the wooden table as his hands shook. Belle, bless her heart, was at his side in an instant to rub his back and sooth him while Phria had stretched to take a shivering hand into her own.

"He's alive." Rumple blathered to himself some how in a tone which was both loud and quiet. "My boy's alive."

Artem nodded. "Yes, very much alive. He's a bit thin but otherwise seems perfectly healthy. He was being kept in the dungeons at Kalecaster Castle but the clever lad managed to escape at an exceedingly fortunate moment."

Rumple's head snapped up. "Where is he? Take me to my son!"

From what Bae had said to Artem, he knew the boy wasn't overly keen to see his father, there were clear wounds there and Artem hated to force a meeting on Bae. However, being a king meant protecting his people, and he saw that the only way of dealing with Tvon and Gaston without a war and thousands dead was to have the Dark One on his side – reuniting him with Bae was the quickest method available to him.

"He is in the care of my son Gottfried, back at Bruckstone Castle. I will gladly escort you to Gorasitz so you can see him. I would like your promise to something first though."

Belle finally paused in her rubbing of Rumple's back. "Surely promises could wait until after he's seen Baelfire?"

"I'm afraid not, I need this done now."

"Get on with it then." Rumple snapped.

"I have returned your son to you, protected him and aided his escape from Kalecaster Castle. Now, I know you have vowed to put a stop to Gaston and Tvon, rescue the du Marchands and save Avonlea as part of a deal made with Belle. All I am asking is that, in return for what I have done for your son, you agree to carry out this rescue as quietly and as subtly as is possible." When four sets of brows furrowed deeply Artem explained. "For a great many years now, the Church has wanted to forge its own holy empire. For the most part the Pontiff seems content to do this by destroying Olgarth from within – Reginald is a figurehead more than a king these days – but, were they to discover what has happened to Maurice and the dark magic going on inside Kalecaster Castle, the Church would surely use it as an excuse to send in the Knightly Order. Once those knights are inside Avonlea in force, they'll assume control and swiftly convert Avonlea into the holy empire the Pontiff so craves. Avonlea is one of the largest kingdoms in Dreymyr, if they manage to take over they will surely move their attention to Dorovoth next due to this kingdom's involvement with you."

Phria's head cocked to one side. "You really believe they'd try something as stupid as taking over the kingdoms?"

"Oh, they'll try." Gordana said. "They'll claim they're trying to root out dark magic and corruption when really they're the corruption."

"What would become of the non-humans in those kingdoms?"

Artem sighed. "Exactly what happens to them in Olgarth, Belle. They'd be little more than slaves by the time the Church was done and anybody who spoke out about it, be they human or non-human, would certainly be executed." He turned back to the Dark One who still struggled to process that his lost son was safe in the next city. "Will you promise, Rumpelstiltskin? Your child for the children of everybody else."

"Aye, we have a deal."

Kill or capture Gaston and Tvon, free Maurice from whatever spell he was under, save Lorrimer and do it all without a riot starting, word of Tvon's darkness or Maurice being bespelled reaching the Church, Rumple could do that – at least he could as long as something ridiculous like a dragon dropping out of the sky didn't happen.

"Thank you. There is plenty of room for you, Belle and the Captain in my carriage, we can leave for Gorasitz right now should you like."

Rumple shot to his feet. "No need, dearie." Belle made quick work of calling Azzy over. "Gordana, tell the soldiers outside to meet their king back home."

With nothing more, Rumple transported himself, his fiancées, Azzy and King Artem to hardly a hundred feet from Bruckstone Castle's main gate. Artem hunched over as a wave of nausea overcame him, but the bearded man possessed a strong constitution and soon straightened back up.

Bruckstone was a surprisingly unassuming castle on the west bank of the Urdina River; a slow river of dazzling blue which originated in the Spikes. Sure, the castle was large and dominated almost all of the west bank, but there weren't nearly as many lavish flourishes one normally expected of royalty.

Rumple and his fiancées cared little for architecture in that moment though, instead they were much more focused on Bae. Guards had been confused to say the least when their King had simply strolled up to the main gate, but who were they to question their King? Once inside, Artem had escorted them to the solar having paused only to ask Lana to have his son bring Bae to them.

So long Rumple had worked to reunite with his beloved boy and, while he was delighted the day had come many years sooner than expected, Rumple couldn't shake the feeling of dread that swirled in the pit of his stomach. The coward inside him had reared its ugly head again, told him to run, that he didn't deserve to see Bae, that Bae would only hate him. Belle and Phria grabbed either of his hands then and that cowardice was forced back inside its box.

After a few moments the door opened and a tall, ginger-haired gentleman entered followed by a sweet teenage boy with dark hair big brown eyes that Rumple couldn't have ever forgotten.

"Bae!"

Rumple made to rush to his son but Bae backed away a few steps bumping into Gottfried as he did and Rumple ground to a halt.

"I think we should all give you some time," said Artem as he gestured for everybody to leave the room. "Lana will be outside if you need anything."

Reluctantly both Belle and Phria left with Azzy and the Van Winchells, the moment the door was closed Rumple realized just how long it had been since he and his boy had been alone together.

"Bae." This time the word escaped as a whisper.

"… Hello, Papa."

Bae hardly looked older than when he'd left, a little taller maybe with slightly longer hair, but otherwise he was as he'd been when he'd left the Enchanted Forest. Artem hadn't lied, he'd taken good care of Bae, had him bathed and fed.

"Bae I -"

"No," he cut his father off. "You don't need to say anything. I figured it out. You just care about that power inside you and now so do those men who locked me in a cage. They want you to do something, right? I just got sucked into it. Magic always decides for me, I've gotten used to that in Neverland."

"Neverland? You were in Neverland this whole time?" Fucking Neverland! His boy had been with Pan, with that monster! "Bae, I'm so sorry – so sorry. I didn't know where you were. I looked for so long. I regretted letting you go the second that portal closed. I'm a coward, I know that. I should have gone with you. You were always the smart one, the brave one. I – I know you don't forgive me. I'm not selfish enough to ask you to here and now but – maybe we could just sit and talk? Please, Bae?"

The teenage boy looked up at his desperate father with suspicion. Before the Curse had overtaken him, Bae had thought his papa a damn good one even if he had been branded a coward. Bae hadn't ever blamed him for injuring himself, he'd seen that as the act of a loving father. Everything that had come after was the cowardice. Shame, Bae had always thought his father could have been a savior in another life.

"Will you tell me what those men want with you?"

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." Rumple promised.

Bae nodded. "Okay, we can talk."

For hours they spoke, talked of the past and where each of them had ended up, of Rumple being forced to Dreymyr and labelled a demon lord, of the people he'd met along the way in his journey to return to looking for his son. When it had come time to tell Bae of who Belle and Phria were to him, Bae had been appalled and disgusted, thought his father to just be stringing two beautiful women along for his own amusement and pride; yet, as Rumple had spoken more about them, he'd started to wonder if his papa's love for them was maybe more genuine than first believed. Then Bae had learned about his so-called sisters.

"Sisters?!"

"Bae, please. I didn't replace you, I had no intention of ever doing that. You're my boy, you can't be replaced. I just – they had no one and nothing, Amicia grew up a slave and was going to be sacrificed when I found her. Adopting her wasn't planned, it just happened. As for Valdis, she's a being of dark magic, being the Dark One provided her comfort so she latched on. Others wanted her slaughtered but she's a little girl, I couldn't let that happen. You'll love them, I promise. They're younger than you, and Amicia loves hearing stories about her big brother. They're eager to meet you. Do you – do you think you'd like to meet them?"

Silence lingered for a great many minutes. On one hand, Bae was pleased his papa still had enough light left in his soul to protect and care for children. On the other hand, he was a teenager and couldn't quite shake the feeling of being replaced.

Though it had been so very long since he'd last seen his papa, Bae saw there was something different inside Rumple. The power and the hideous scales were still there, but the spite and darkness appeared muted somehow, as though it had been locked away. Being the Dark One did things to its host's brain, made them crave evil and power; his papa hadn't ever been evil, it was the darkness inside him. So, if he were somehow different than Bae remembered and had women standing by his side, Bae supposed he could at least try to repair things with his father – that and he'd always wanted siblings.

"Okay, I'll meet them."

Overjoyed, a beaming smile erupted on Rumple's face as he looked at his darling son. In that moment, his dark heart began to shine with a little more light.