The little reminders they'd sent him were no longer working. He just propped them up on the dresser in the room he'd kept prepared for his son's return. Periodically, randomly, he would stop to stare at them when he entered the bedchambers to dust (by his own hand; he never used magic in this room; he vowed he never would). Then, an hour or a day later, he'd be back out into the world to trick another power-hungry king or manipulate another hungry peasant, or squash an ignorant offender beneath his dragon-hide boot.

First they tried a charcoal drawing, sketched years ago by Milah, of a four-year-old in need of a haircut. That sketch had gone missing years ago, years after Bae had; he'd assumed it had been lost in one of the several magic-induced fires that had resulted from his experiments before he'd learned to work patiently. He could recall with perfect clarity the day Milah had started that sketch, all the trouble she'd had persuading Bae to leave his thumb out of his mouth and hold still.

When the drawing suddenly reappeared after a long absence—just lying atop a basket of gold in one of his seldom-entered storage rooms—he wondered if a trick had been played upon him. But there were only two people he had ever allowed beyond the Great Hall, and one of them had no sense of humor and the other, while prone to pranks, respected the castle's owner too much to have dared enter a room without invitation, so, carrying the sketch into Bae's chambers, Rumplestiltskin surmised he must have somehow transported it into the storage room himself, probably during a night of drunken grief.

The sketch worked wonderfully well: for a full season, there were no snail crushings. In fact, he hardly left the castle. Then the sketch's power over him weakened, and he was seen terrorizing pixies to steal their magic dust, and once again, the Blue Fairy and her war council had to find other mementos from Rumplestiltskin's pre-Dark days: a kettle in which the Spinsters had made him tea when he was small, a ribbon Milah had worn on their wedding day, a blanket that he'd woven for newborn Bae. Each token reminded him that he'd been human once, made him wonder if he could be again; each gave him pause. But then the Dark One would squeeze its cold clammy hand around his soul and his heart would grow a little blacker, and the world suffered for it.

A second worldwide war council was called among the fairies.

Blue rose from her seat at the head of the war table. "We've slowed him down, but we need a permanent solution."

"His magic grows more powerful every day," Yellow agreed. "Once the darkness overtakes his heart, he will be unstoppable."

"But what can free a heart from Darkness, if the possessed one doesn't wish to be released from it?" Pink worried. "What is stronger than evil?"

"Love," Yellow blurted. "Love is more powerful than anything."

"But his loved ones are all lost to him, through death, abandonment or"—Green cast a hasty frown at Blue—"accident of magic."

"Then we must bring love back into his life, to rescue the man from the Dark One," Blue decided. "To make him want to be human again."

"Surely you aren't thinking—that would be throwing a lamb to a wolf!" Violet protested. "Sisters," she rose to address the table, for she could see Blue's mind was already set and no amount of persuasion would change it. "What Blue is proposing is cruel and unfairylike. We must vote down this plan!"

"It's not the plan I would choose, if we had another option," Blue admitted. "But in the fight against evil, sacrifices must be made, even of innocents. One life to save thousands, sisters—hundreds of thousands! Must I remind you, the Dark One is immortal, and the stronger the chokehold it has on this man, the stronger his magic, and the fewer the restraints upon him. He kills one at a time now, but how long before he destroys entire villages? Already he is training others in the ways of Darkness; soon he will have an army of sorcerers to do his bidding. And worst of all, we have learned that he has taken possession of the Final Curse!"

"The curse that would destroy all the magical lands?" Pink gasped.

"And transport us to a land without magic," Blue informed her.

Green murmured, "Where he can reunite with his son."

Blue gave her sister fairies time to absorb this shocking news and deliberate options, but deep down, they knew that in light of all this, Blue's plan was the most ethical—and offered the only real hope. Only Rumplestiltskin could defeat the Dark One, and to do that, he had to want to; only love could drive away the fear and guilt that controlled him.

Only True Love's Kiss could break the Dark One's Curse.

The castle doors had been thrown open wide for the noblemen who had come from afar to celebrate the arrival of the firstborn to King Maurice and Queen Collette of the Marchlands. Even the merchants and peasants of Avonlea were made welcome to the castle grounds, where banquet tables offered fresh game from the royal forest, exotic fruits sent by ship from rulers seeking Maurice's favor, and kegs of ale and wine gifted by local breweries and vineyards. Minstrels, jugglers, acrobats and dancers entertained on the lawns, while the royal guard showed off their swordsmanship and horsemanship. Gifts small and large, from candied nuts and hand-carved dolls to imported silk and diamond bracelets, were laid at feet of the new princess' bassinet.

The feast lasted seven days, and on the last day, as tradition required, the most special gifts of all were brought to the castle: gifts of magic from the Marchlands' mages, and among them, blessings from the fairies. The Great Hall was silent so that all the guests could hear as nine fairies, enlarged to human size, bowed to the King and the Queen, extended their congratulations and their best wishes for the peace and prosperity of the kingdom, and then rose on soft wings to hover over the bassinet. One by one, they bestowed their gifts with a touch of their wands upon the infant's forehead. Neither the new parents nor their guests realized that these nine were leaders from the war council, nor did anyone suspect the reason behind their carefully selected gifts: from Orange, courage; from Pink, a sweet nature; from Green, resourcefulness; from Yellow, determination; from Violet, fortitude; from Brown, a love of learning; from Red, generosity; and from Magenta, a forgiving soul.

Last to deliver her gift was the Fairy Queen. "I bestow upon you, Princess Belle of the Marchlands, a most rare gift: you shall look into the hearts of all you meet and see the truth of the goodness or the evil living there."

Then Blue kissed the baby, and the fairies bowed again to the royals, who bowed in thanks, and the fairies vanished. For ages to come, those who had witnessed this day would talk of it, for no princess had ever been blessed by so many fairies.

But then, no princess had ever been destined for such a big task as to restore a man to his humanity and defeat the Dark One forever.