Chapter Text
At the waning happiness in the sheriff's eyes, Mayor Mills pulled her shoulders back and flipped her mask in place; she would wait for the privacy of her bedroom before allowing her feelings their loose rein. Instead, she turned to her son. He came running across the short distance of the park and crashed into her arms. Her hands pulled him close and she dropped a kiss atop his head before he could rethink his spontaneous affection.
"We saw the other you again," he declared excitedly. "We told her about her sister. Did you see the other us's?"
Regina hesitated, her eyes darting fleetingly to Emma's. "We didn't get chance to talk but yes, I saw them."
Sheriff Swan began to panic at the idea of talking about her counterpart and coughed, drawing everyone's attention. Shit, she thought, having nothing she wanted to say. She wanted to know what Regina planned to do now and whether she – Emma – had a significant place in that plan, but being back in Storybrooke with her mother watching her curiously, she chickened out. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. Granny's?" she suggested finally.
Henry's face screwed up and his hand covered his belly, suddenly realising his own hunger. "Yeah, me too. Can we, Mom?"
A pained smile pulled at Regina's mouth. "You go ahead. I'm going to make sure everything at home is in order," she offered lamely. A fist clenched around her insides; she suddenly felt a need to be far away. "Miss Swan," she added as she turned to face the sheriff. "Bring Henry home at a reasonable hour?"
Emma stiffened, her own features becoming hard. Regina's tone wasn't as biting as usual but it was hardly friendly and the reminder of their past made her wish to be far away. I'd better not actually make a wish though, she remembered at the last minute. "Sure," she muttered, her tone becoming increasingly annoyed. "Come on, Kid."
She didn't look back to search for Regina's reaction or to watch her walk away. She was angry again and hurt. Deep down, she probably knew that the mayor was just as uncomfortable with being back under the scrutiny of Storybrooke's residents – maybe even more so – but logical reasoning went by the wayside when her head was so full of conflicting feelings.
It wasn't until Ruby set a cheese burger down in front of her and wholeheartedly welcomed her back that her mind began to clear. She ate with huge bites because she was ravenous and because old habits die hard, but the food sat heavy in her stomach. For the first time in many years, she couldn't finish the entire meal.
Across the table, Mary Margret complained about her brief time as mayor and how complicated this world's system of government was. Emma tuned it out and sat staring at the dappled, Formica surface of the table. Now that she had time to think, a wave of sadness passed over her. What was Regina doing at home… alone? She felt like she'd abandoned the other woman in her desperation to escape. Henry invited her along, she thought, trying to alleviate her guilt. But it didn't work. She pictured Regina's prized Benz burning in the cemetery parking lot and the mob of people who'd massed outside the mayor's house – pitch forks at the ready. Of course Regina wouldn't want to come to Granny's – the heart of the town's social scene – and face all of the angry Storybrooke residents. Why would she volunteer to expose herself to that?
Regardless of the fact that Regina deserved their ire, Emma didn't want to see her mobbed or hurt in any way. She couldn't help it – she cared too much to not be concerned. And the more she thought about it, the less it mattered that she'd been rejected so many times. As much shit as she'd been through in the foster system and after, she was beginning to realise that Regina had endured hardships far worse. Change is gonna take time, she reminded herself.
"Emma, where are you going?"
Mary Margret's worried tone stopped the blonde in her tracks and she realised that she'd stood up and moved away from the table. Her guilty gaze passed over her mother and then her son. His expression frowned at her for a moment before understanding took over and he smiled. Emma smiled back and leaned over the table to kiss his forehead.
"You good to stay at the loft tonight?" He nodded slowly. "If I'm not back, I'll come fetch you in the morning, ok?" she told him, her eyes bright with adrenaline for what she'd unconsciously decided to do. He nodded enthusiastically this time and she scuffed his hair into a messy nest. "Be good for Mary Margret and David."
"I will," Henry answered, his grin widening.
Feeling a little more optimistic, Emma ignored Mary Margret's spluttering and skipped down the front steps of the diner. Straight into…
"Leroy," she said as the grumpy man stepped out in front of her and that buoyant hope dipped again below the surface.
"Going somewhere nice, Sheriff?" he asked knowingly.
There it is. She hesitated, the tip of one shoe scraping along the sidewalk as she came to a halt in front of the bitter drunk. She knew instinctively what he wanted to talk about. Now that Mayor Mills was back, the Evil Queen's victims would come for their vengeance. Well, screw that, the sheriff thought bitingly. Without a word to answer his laden question, she shot him a scowl and brushed past, ignoring the accusations and demands that tried to follow her.
Her feet measured the pavement in long, quick strides until she was all-out running. Leroy's confrontational expression festered in her mind, bringing ugly scenarios to the forefront of her thoughts. Word of Regina's return must have spread by now; small-town gossip moved at the speed of light. What would she find when she got to the mansion?
There was no sign of anything out of place when Emma arrived at 108 Mifflin Street, but that didn't stop her from charging straight through the front door and skidding to a halt in the foyer.
"Regina!?" she called, her voice tight and breathless.
Her feet turned to the study and her head followed before a muffled thump caught her attention from upstairs. Tense fingers swung her round the banister and hugged the rail as she made her way up. "Regina?" she asked again a little quieter but still loud enough that the question would carry. Before she reached the last step, the figure she was looking for came into view. "Hey," Emma whispered, her wild-eyed look softening.
A confused aura flowed from the mayor as she stared down at the sheriff with red-rimmed eyes. "Miss Swan," she croaked, "I see you still haven't curbed your habit of barging into people's homes."
Emma ignored the disapproving tone, the rigid stance and the haughty eyebrow. It was all for show – I'm sure it is – because behind the hard expression was a raw sorrow that drew her in and made her want to pull the other woman into her arms. A gesture that she knew wouldn't be welcomed. Instead, Emma's hand reached to nudge the item dangling from the mayor's left hand.
"Cute bear," she commented softly, the corner of her mouth twitching upward cautiously.
Regina blinked and lifted the toy between them. She gazed at the bear at length, her thumb stroking around the furry, brown face as her expression softened. Instead of answering Emma's question, she turned back from where she'd appeared and walked away, disappearing from view inside Henry's bedroom. She glanced round at all the bits and pieces that represented the existence of her child and sank slowly onto the bed. Her muscles tensed as the sheriff entered the room and began to wander around. Dark eyes followed the blonde, watching Emma's cautious expression as it morphed through several emotions in quick succession. It suddenly occurred to her that she'd never before allowed Henry's birth mother to access her son's private sanctuary.
A squirming discomfort grew from inside and her hands gripped the bear tighter. Why was Emma there? Why had she burst through the front door in such a panic? Why had the saviour looked so relieved at finding her? And again, did she really deserve to be the recipient of such attention and concern? She wanted to say something that would break the awkward silence but every comment that came to mind tasted of bitterness and venom. How can I have nothing to say but insults? Deciding it was best all round, she stayed silent and waited for Emma to speak first.
The sheriff made a slow journey around the room before lowering herself next to Regina with a sigh. Her eyes travelled over the bear again and a smile grew from the corner of her mouth. The panicked sprint across town felt silly now but amongst the grand scheme of weird and jarring things that had happened to her lately, that one was far from the top. In amid the top five, sitting neck and neck with a ten-year-old child showing up on her doorstep, was the enigma of Regina Mills and the inescapable pull she felt toward the older woman. It was a tangled mess that had brought them here, but it was serendipity too. The thought of that journey drove her full circle, back to Henry.
"I wanted this for him," she commented softly. She stared at her own hands for several seconds before shaking her head. "I nearly changed my mind a thousand times; I loved him so much. Every little kick drove me mad with guilt." Her voice trailed off and her hand moved to her abdomen as the memory of her pregnancy closed around her throat. Silence stretched between them again. "But love doesn't put a roof over your head or food on the table, does it?" Some distant part of her brain wondered how she'd stumbled upon this topic. She never talked about her pregnancy during her time in prison. It was too painful. There was a point she wanted to make here though… somewhere.
"Giving him up was the only option. The state would've taken him off me if I'd tried to keep him – I had nothing and no one – and then he'd be in the same crappy system I was." She felt an uncomfortable shift beside her and finally looked up to take stock of the woman next to her. "Parents aren't perfect. Some even think that throwing their kid into a magical wardrobe and sending them to another land is a good idea," she added and smiled at the surprised chuckle that rose next to her. "You're far from perfect Regina. In fact, you've got serious issues that scare me sometimes. But," she injected as brown eyes turned cold again, "you love him too and you've done your best to give him everything he needs. I know you have because he's confident, cheeky, adventurous and healthy. He's not afraid to challenge you but he's determined to protect you too. He loves you, Regina. And not because he feels like he has to. You've earned it. There is good in you."
Regina swallowed hard and sucked in a breath as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. The start of Emma's speech hadn't given her much hope – she couldn't help feeling like she was being lectured and wondered when Emma was going to get to the punchline: he'd have been better off poor or without parents than as the son of the Evil Queen. But no, Emma wasn't saying that at all. She was saying the opposite. Is this really happening? Regina chanced a glance at the blonde and found a nervous kind of eagerness staring back at her. "Thank you," she replied and cleared her throat before adding, "Him coming into my life… It's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Emma nodded. "I know what you mean."
Several months ago, Regina would have jumped on that idea and beaten it into a messy paste. The thought of sharing any part of her son with another person was abhorrent to her, but to the mayor's surprise, she felt herself nodding along instead. Yes, Emma was Henry's mother too and that spirited boy had turned a jaded bail-bonds person's world upside down just as he had for an Evil Queen. Before she could stop them, more words began to tumble out of her mouth.
"I don't know how to do this, Miss… Emma," she amended quickly, feeling the disappointment from the blonde. Less 'Miss Swan'. Less distancing. "I don't know how to share my space or let other people make decisions for me. I swore after the king died that I would never let anyone have control over me again," she warned.
"Well, I'm not great at sharing space either, so I guess we'd have to work on that," Emma answered the brunette's unexpected word-vomit of feelings. Are we really having this conversation? Are we negotiating a future? Her clammy hands ran over the legs of her jeans. "As for the other stuff – I don't want to control you or make decisions for you. And I don't want you to do that to me either. Bedroom kinks aside, control isn't a healthy way to have a relationship."
"Is that what this is? A relationship?" Regina wondered, glad that she wasn't the one who'd brought it up but also glad that it was out there.
Sheriff Swan shuffled awkwardly for a second before running her hands through her hair. "I don't want to go back to the insults or the crazy push and pull you were doing before, but I can't stop wanting more with you. I'm past the point where I can just step back and be nothing more than friends." She caught the brunette's searching gaze and quickly found interest in the carpet. "I wouldn't try to force you though, so if friendship is all you want…"
"No!" Regina interrupted, her voice much louder than intended. She coughed to cover her embarrassment. A million thoughts ran rampant through her mind but none of them seemed to want to make the journey to her mouth. She had to say something though. Something that didn't make Emma run for the hills. "I'm a pariah and you're the saviour. The town's not going to like it. Your mother wants me to keep being mayor until others step up to take over and then what? I'd be surprised if I'm not at least exiled…" These were all the other fears she could let pile on to the existing ones, but Emma's awkward speech kicked them aside. A crooked smile tugged at her mouth and she found some of her old bravado. "But what do I care for their opinions? Nobody ever cared what I wanted. I'm in the habit of taking what I want, what I need. If I want and need you, then I'm going not going to ask for an opinion poll." What came out sounded to her own mind like a bunch of disjointed nonsense, but the sheriff's coy smile told her that she'd managed somehow to get her message across.
Emma swallowed her reply. For two people who valued actions over words, they'd already said a lot. She didn't know what they were supposed to do next, but she knew that she wanted to fall back on something that would make them both feel confident. Standing, she turned to offer a hand and tugged the brunette closer. Hoping that her expression said everything that needed saying, she simply uttered a soft, "Not in Henry's room," and led them down the hall.
Regina clung to Emma like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a life raft. Her fingers sank into thick, blonde curls as their lips met and danced. She felt confident hands on her back, her hips, her ass, every movement stoking the fire. The heady, addictive fuzziness around her brain grew with each minute that passed, but she managed to retain enough sense to remember one very important thing.
"Where's Henry?" she asked when she came up for air. "Are the two idiots brining him home?"
Emma snorted her amusement but offered a disapproving eyebrow raise. "I asked him to stay at the loft and said I'd pick him up in the morning… Assuming I'm not going to be wandering back sometime later with my socks in my pockets again?" she added, an edge of disappointment already creeping back into her tone.
Shame filled the mayor's belly, but she maintained a stoic façade. "Oh no, Miss Swan," she replied in her haughtiest manner. "You wanted this, so the training starts now. You won't know how to properly wait on a queen unless you practise." As uncertain, green eyes warmed to a hungry stare, she knew she'd said the right thing. She welcomed the sheriff's renewed attentions for several minutes until she realised that they were moving towards the bed. "We smell like forest," she noted with a curl of her lip.
"Shower?" Emma suggested and followed the approving nod into the ensuite, toward a night that she wouldn't soon forget.
* * * * *
Epilogue: In the Service of a Queen
The (alternative) Enchanted Forest
The cough caught Queen Emma off guard and cut right through the involuntary laugh which fell from her mouth. She turned to find her wife's unamused gaze twitching between her and the imprisoned redhead. Emma cleared her throat and stood. "To be continued," she offered to her sister-in-law. To Regina, she pressed a conciliatory kiss against her cheek and whispered, "Try," against the shell of an ear before leaving to climb the stairs from the dungeon.
Queen Regina huffed at the small reminder and took the vacated seat. "So, now you have your mind set on taking my wife instead of my kingdom?" she questioned sharply.
Zelena leant back on her bunk like she was reclining on a bed of down and silk. "Well you did leave her unattended, darling. What's a sister to do?"
"Have a little decorum?"
"You forget, I was raised by common folk. I'm afraid that decorum wasn't on the required reading list." Zelena grinned at the sour expression on Regina's face and rose up to rest on her hands. "Besides, Queen Emma is a powerhouse of magic – you can't expect me not to find that attractive."
"Zelena…"
"If only the inexperienced little sheriff were here. I could show her a thing or two. A bit of student/teacher afterhours liaison, oui?"
"I think she would sooner see you to your grave," the queen replied, her penetrating glare trying and failing to warn her sister that she was walking a thin line.
"Considering that you spend every night with that body snug against your own, I'm surprised that you're wound so tightly. Seriously, sis – lighten up."
Zelena had made it her goal to push Regina's buttons since the moment her sister returned from the alternative world and their land without magic. She'd sewn chaos in this kingdom and those beyond, so there were many calling for her head, but Queen Regina and her wife seemed determined to keep her safe. She couldn't work out why, but it was entertaining watching them flounder when she crossed a line. Which she frequently did.
Regina sighed and looked over the dank space of the dungeon. "How are your accommodations?"
Blue eyes flicked from bars to bed and back to the queen. A sneer telegraphed the heavy sarcasm in her words as she replied, "Fabulous. I love what you've done with the place."
Not taking the bait, the queen stood and clapped her hands together. "If you like this room, I'm sure you'll die for the next one." She watched her sister's face as her contempt cracked and a flicker of fear peeked through. "Come on." She waved a hand at the barred door and it swung open. "After you."
Zelena pulled a face but stepped out of the cell. She followed Regina's directions through the castle to the upper floors and stopped outside one of the staterooms. "Bit fancy for an execution, isn't it? You're not afraid you'll get dust on the rugs when you crush my heart?"
Regina shook her head and motioned them inside. "Fabulous as the dungeon is, we thought you'd like a change of scenery."
"We?"
"Emma and I."
"I don't need your charity or your pity."
Regina entered the room, erected a magical barrier behind her and then moved to sit on the couch beneath the window. "Let's be honest. You don't trust me and I don't trust you."
"Stating the obvious," Zelena commented before beginning to move cautiously around the room. "So, is this my new prison? Would you like me to be grateful?" She crossed her arms and stared back at the other woman. "One cage is as good as another."
"You're right." Regina threw her arms out to gesture to the room. "This is a lot like my prison was. Since you seem to think my life was so much more enjoyable than yours, why not start here?"
"Oh, please," the redhead scoffed. "You were queen. Mother gave you everything."
Queen Regina closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She stood, straightened out her dress and moved to the door. She wanted to leave without stooping to her sister's level or exposing her own vulnerabilities, but bitterness got the best of her. She paused on the threshold and turned to glare at the redhead. "You think it was so much fun? How about I send an old man to your room for you to entertain later? So you can begin to understand what it takes to earn your place as queen."
Zelena flinched at the sharp snap of the door. She pulled a face and ignored the clenching pain in her chest. Hadn't she suffered more than her sister? So, Regina had had to sleep with the king. So what? At least she'd had her title, her power. And Mother by her side. The words came like daggers to her mind, but she couldn't make them stay. Beneath each one, was a seed of disgust. Disgust at the man who'd hurt her sister. Disgust at her mother for putting Regina in that situation. And disgust at herself for dismissing it all as trivial.
Hating the conflict in her thoughts, she banished them to the dark and found the anger she wanted to aim at her own situation. She dwelled and brooded all afternoon, huffing every time she heard someone pass her room but no one stopped to visit.
Regina must have ordered everyone away from me, she thought as the evening progressed and she remained alone. Sometime around ten o'clock, a spread of food appeared on a small table next to her new couch and, reluctantly, she sat down to nibble at it.
It wasn't until morning that someone came knocking. Having been staring morosely out of her window at the activity below, she pulled herself to her full height and tried to appear as if she wasn't desperately in need of a friend. Even one as hostile as her sister. "Yes?" A blonde head peeked round the door and cautiously sought her out.
"May we come in?" Queen Emma asked.
Zelena opened her mouth to reply with something sarcastic but the appearance of two more heads gave her pause. Though she'd met Henry from the other world, she'd yet to meet her sister's children here. "If you must," she eventually responded.
The blonde queen smiled softly and ushered her children through the door. "Here you go," she said to them. "You wanted to say hello," she reminded them, as if they'd been annoying their mother for hours for this opportunity.
The curious princess walked into the room first, her hazel eyes fixed on the newcomer. "My no's have sister," Amorette told the redhead by way of introduction. "My's have my Henny."
"You have your brother," Zelena replied, taking the cue. She wondered what Emma's game was and whether Regina had given her consent to this venture. She wasn't used to children, and since they reminded her of those insufferable munchkins who mobbed her wherever she went, she wasn't particularly inclined to want to get to know any. But somehow, these two already managed to pique her curiosity.
"Uh-huh," the petite girl agreed. Feeling bolder, she climbed onto the bed and shuffled to the edge closest to the witch. "You hair pitty."
Prince Henry seemed more hesitant than his sister but he still shuffled unconsciously closer. "Are you staying?" he asked before the princess could.
Amorette wasn't done though and turned to her mother with pleading eyes. "Mama, me want pitty hair."
Emma sat next to her daughter and ran her fingers through the girl's soft, brown locks. Every year they darkened a little more and she knew they would eventually turn as dark as her wife's. "You have pretty hair, my love. If you mean that you want red hair, then we'll have to discuss it with Mommy."
Zelena scoffed. "That'll go down well."
The blonde queen chuckled silently before addressing her children again. "Right. You've met your aunt Zelena like I said you could, now what do you two need to do?"
"But…"
"But…"
"No buts," Emma cut them off. "We talked about this. Today we're just saying hello. If Aunt Zelena decides to stay, we will talk more about visits." She watched their expressions fall, though a nugget of defiance remained behind the princess' eyes. "Be good for Tilly. I will see you at lunch," she said and led them to the door where she spoke with someone on the other side briefly.
"I take it, my sister didn't want her children to spend more time than necessary with me?" the witch assumed once there was just the two adults left.
Queen Emma offered her usual, patient smile. "Can you blame her?"
"Didn't you hear, darling?" Zelena replied with a predatory grin. "I blame her for everything."
"Regina spent decades blaming my mother for everything. It made her angry. It made her miserable. She hated everything." The blonde had moved to the window and was looking out at the beating heart of her kingdom. "She had a reason to feel the way she did, but for all the power and fear she wielded, she wasn't happy."
"Thank you for the history lesson," the redhead grumbled. "She obviously didn't know how to have fun with it. What's your point?"
A sigh of gentle exasperation escaped the queen. She turned to face her sister-in-law and observed her for several seconds. "What do you want for yourself, Zelena?"
"Easy. For my sister to never have existed and for me to take her place." She shrugged. "But since I haven't perfected time travel yet, I'll settle for just swapping places. She can play the prisoner."
"And then what?"
"What?"
"Here's your scenario: The sister, who incidentally wasn't born when your mother abandoned you and didn't know you existed, but is apparently responsible for every horrible event in your life," Emma began, her patient diplomacy fading in exchange for her no-nonsense warrior. "She's now your prisoner and you've taken over as queen. What's next? A lifetime of rubbing your victory in her face while you try to manage civil dissent? You'll toil in vain to make the people love you, or ruin thousands of lives while attempting to force their obedience." She paused to see how her story was being taken, but the witch's expression had frozen into something indiscernible. "And what of myself and the children? You'll lock us up too? Create more misery and bitterness for the next generation – fuel for their ire, their vengeance?"
"That's why you brought the little brats here, to try to make me feel guilty?" Zelena scowled. She wanted to throw some sort of sarcastic and cutting remark at the blonde, but it wouldn't come.
Of course she would have to treat her sister's family to the same fate. They wouldn't ignore their mother/wife being overthrown. Emma would fight for the woman she loved and the children would learn to be resentful in time. Did she want that? She wanted to prove to her mother that she was the prodigal daughter – the one who would fulfil Cora's dreams of power. To prove to Rumpelstiltskin that she was the better student and could cast his curse more expediently than the Evil Queen could. But she was no longer so confident that any of those things would play out the way she'd envisioned them.
The mayor's words about their mother niggled at the back of her mind. Could Cora have loved her? Had she loved Regina? She didn't know any more.
"No," Queen Emma replied to the bitterly spoken question. "To help you to see what you already have." At the redhead's frown, she added, "Family. People who care about you right here, right now. You don't have to go anywhere to find it, or fight anyone for it, you just have to give it a chance."
* * * * *
Storybrooke – three months later
The weather didn't suit the emotional atmosphere that hung over the small family group as they stood side by side in the cemetery. A mid-winter sun shone brightly against an azure background, warming the tops of their heads despite the autumn chill in the air.
Henry Mills looked suitably sombre in his dark suit; his left arm linked through Regina Mills' and his gaze downcast at the words on the headstone before them. DANIEL COLTER, BELOVED FRIEND AND FIANCE, FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS. He heard a soft sniff beside him and glanced up at his mother's face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, gathering around her mouth and nose then dripping off the end of her chin. She gripped his arm tight but leant heavily to her left, using Sheriff Swan as a prop.
Now that the sermon was over, it was just the three of them. Mary Margret had wanted to come to pay her respects too, but Emma managed to convince her to let Regina mourn without the reminder of Daniel's horrific death standing next to her. It had taken time for the reinstated mayor to agree to bury her lost-love. Contrary to Mary Margret's prediction, Regina hadn't been angry at any of them for taking Daniel out of the coffin. If anything, there had been a sense of relief around the mayor; someone had taken the decision out of her hands; she was no longer bound to him in a way that kept her in that cycle of sorrow.
Once Regina learned of Dr Whale's attempt to reanimate him and Daniel's attack at the stables, then the anger came. Whale got a public dressing down – his part in the Evil Queen's creation and the danger he'd loosed on the town aired for all – and since then he'd been quiet.
While Emma hadn't officially moved into her home, the sheriff spent most nights at the mansion. They didn't always stay in the same bed. Sex was easy but they both bounced back and forth between fear and excitement for the change in their relationship and sought space away from each other. Words like 'hypocrite' and 'coward' were often bandied around in the heat of an argument. But even when she and Emma fell back on old habits, Regina knew that she was in a good place now. Her life had moved on in ways that she'd never imagined it could. It was time to let go of this part of the past and put it to rest.
Emma drove them back to the mansion in Regina's Mercedes. When her girlfriend didn't bat an eye at Emma's offer to drive and sat in silence, staring out of the window, the sheriff knew that the funeral hat his the mayor hard.
"Hey, Kid," Emma began as she closed the front door behind them. "You got any requests for dinner?"
Beginning to grow out of his childhood body now, Henry's appetite was growing and he often spent time with his head in the fridge. Concern for his mother curbed his appetite for now though. "Mom?" he asked gently. She stood a few feet away, looking as if she wasn't sure what to do with herself. "Mom?" he repeated a little louder.
Regina flicked her gaze up to where her son stood half way up the stairs. She clocked his worried expression and forced a smile. "I'm not very hungry. I'm going to just do some work for a while." She turned to the study and disappeared inside.
Emma smiled sadly and approached the stairs. "Today's been a long time coming. Give her some space, huh?" She watched him nod and reached to fuss with his hair, chuckling when he managed to dodge out of the way. "If she does feel like eating later, what d'ya think she'll like?"
"Can we make lasagne?" he asked hopefully.
Emma winced. "Really?"
He laughed at her pained expression. "Right. Finger food?"
"Sure," she smiled again. "Get changed first. I'll meet you in the kitchen in twenty."
Emma and Henry made their feast and then ate it in the living room as they watched Henry's new favourite super-hero movie. He procrastinated as much as he dared but in the end, he went to bed without getting the opportunity to say goodnight to his mom.
Emma took her time tidying up after her and Henry. Even now that she was a regular feature in the house and Regina insisted that she didn't need to stress over it so much, Emma still felt the overwhelming need sometimes to prove that she wasn't a burden. Once she was happy with her efforts, she approached the study door and knocked.
Regina had forgone any pretence of working and sat slouched on her expensive and not-made-to-be-comfortable couch with a glass of cider in her hand. Emma shut the door quietly behind her and took the seat opposite. Her girlfriend sipped her drink, eyeing her over the rim of her glass before nodding over to the decanter.
"Help yourself, Sheriff. Join the party," she slurred morosely.
Emma smiled softly – pained by the sombre sight – and shook her head. "Thanks, but I'll skip this one."
"Are you here to cut me off?" the mayor asked, her chin rising defiantly.
"Nope. If you think drinking yourself into a stupor is a good idea, go for it. I'm just here to keep you company while you're at it," she explained and made a show of getting comfortable.
Regina huffed and finished her drink slowly, savouring the flavour. Even in her drunken state, she wanted to appreciate the fruits of her labour. The moment the bottom of the glass came into view though, she wobbled off the couch and filled it back up. "I'm running out," she noted as shook the vessel.
"Henry's gone to bed," Emma dropped in after a long moment of nothing. "He said to say goodnight."
She saw the brunette's face twitch into a frown before it dropped and the glass raised to her lips again. A million other thoughts bypassed her tongue, but she held them back. There was no need for inane chatter. She'd come in here to provide a presence. To remind her girlfriend that she wasn't alone with her grief any longer. Her comment about their son did seem to have an effect though; the determined path of cider to mouth gradually slowed to a complete stop and the glass sat on the table with liquid still in the bottom.
"He would have hated what I became," Regina murmured into the room, breaking the heavy silence. "He was sweet, gentle, kind. Everything that he brought out in me, and everything I threw away after becoming queen."
"You're still those things, Regina," Emma offered. "You buried them deep, but they're still there. I've seen them."
"It's not the same," the mayor protested with a shake of her head. Tears welled and she blinked to clear them away.
"I know. It can never be the same," the blonde agreed. "But if he was all the things you've said, he would understand why you fell so far, and I have to believe that he'd be proud of how you've picked yourself up. I know you like to focus on how Henry has been your rock and your reason for wanting to change, but the effort, the commitment always had to come from you." Her voice had grown in confidence as she spoke, but it dropped suddenly to a soft murmur again. "I know I'm proud of you."
The tears came thick and fast then. Regina felt a sob grow in the back of her throat and her face crumpled. Before the sound had even made it out of her mouth, strong arms wound around her back and she fell face first into the gap between Emma's shoulder and neck. They were the kind of ugly sobs that shook her whole body and drew sounds akin to an animal dying, but Emma held her fast and rocked her gently, until every part of her ached and she could cry no more.
Regina stayed in bed most of the next day, but sat up when her son came to check on her in the afternoon, and made it downstairs to sit with him and Emma while they ate popcorn and watched one of their favourite movies. She hated being weepy. She couldn't help hearing her mother's voice in her head and it drained the life out of her. But with her little family there to tell her it was ok and giving her all the support she needed, she knew that finally letting Daniel go was not going to break her.
It wasn't until a week later that she truly felt that her grief no longer sat like a dead weight inside of her. Party decorations littered the mansion in concentrated bursts. (Henry's enthusiastic handywork.) With banners and balloons splashing the number twenty-nine everywhere in bright, bold lettering. The last of the guests had just left – a teary Mary Margret clinging to her daughter like she might disappear if she let go – and Emma lay across the entire expanse of the sofa while Regina pottered around, picking up discarded plates and cups that she'd missed in her earlier cleaning attempt.
Satisfied that there was very little left to tidy, Regina returned from the kitchen to hover in the doorway, her gaze falling on her girlfriend. Emma looked beautiful and exhausted. Regina picked up the blonde's legs and slid onto the end seat. She pulled off the fluffy, pink socks that Snow had given her daughter for her birthday and threw them carelessly in the direction of the hallway. She felt Emma chuckle and met her sleepy, amused gaze with a slight smirk.
"Garish monstrosities," she explained as she took a foot between her hands and began to tease away the tension.
"You did well today," Emma commented as she sank deeper into the sofa cushions. "You only threatened to kill my mother twice."
"That you heard," Regina muttered and then tried to look inscrutable when green eyes narrowed on her. She shrugged. "Snow made it out alive."
"We'll call it a win," Emma agreed.
"Did you enjoy your birthday?" the brunette asked after a moment. Her hands worked their way around an ankle and along a calf.
Since Daniel's funeral the previous week, she knew she'd been distant. Emma hadn't mentioned her milestone all week in favour of making sure that Regina was ok, but the mayor had managed to summon the energy to finalise plans for the surprise party. Without Henry, she probably wouldn't have had everything ready but he'd pulled out all the stops to make his Ma's first birthday with her family one to remember. How had she survived for so long being so angry and miserable? Every day with her son and her saviour served as a reminder of how lucky she was. It was still early days though.
"Hmm," Emma replied distractedly. A smile slowly grew on her lips. "I think my first gift was my favourite." She felt her girlfriend's hands stop for a second and knew that Regina was thinking back to their early morning frolic. "The rest of the day was good too."
"I'm glad," Regina responded. While she maintained that she wasn't at fault for Emma having grown up without parents, that it wasn't her decision to send Snow's baby through a wardrobe to escape a curse, the guilt still crept up on her at unexpected times. Regret wasn't something she tolerated though. "Next year, I'm sure we can make it even better."
"You don't have to do that," Emma protested. "I don't want my birthday to be some annual competition to one-up yourself. It's enough that I have people who care about me to celebrate with."
Nodding, Regina sighed and then forced a smile. "I'm not sure that I would be able to top whatever absolutely monstrous item of clothing your mother buys you next year anyhow."
Green eyes rolled with amusement. Her gaze drifted in the direction of her discarded socks. "She really does have horrible taste. At least they're warm. It's starting to get chilly in the loft."
The mayor 'hmm-ed' to herself and continued to roll her thumbs over the contours of her girlfriend's feet. She'd had to research this. It was an intimate act that she'd only learned from some trashy TV show that Emma insisted on watching. In her experience, it was something you paid for at a spa not an expression of caring for one's partner, so she'd jumped on the internet and Googled (cautiously) the right way to go about massaging a lover's feet. It was oddly enjoyable, especially as she watched Emma's eyes drift closed and heard her breathing even out.
The blonde's comment about life at the loft prompted a recurrent thought to pop into her mind. When should she ask Emma to move in? It was a natural progression of any romantic relationship, but how much did cohabitation suit them? Pretty well, I think. Just look around you! How many years had she sat in this room at night, thinking on her life – past and future? How often had she felt this content?
Forgetting the arguments that pushed them to seek out their own space, she and Emma moved around each other with relative ease now. Even the awkward mornings had become comfortable. Plus, Henry hated when Emma left for a couple of days to stay with her parents. Either that, or Regina hated them both leaving to stay with the Charming couple.
Cohabitation should work. Would work. She was more sure of that fact every day. But it still felt too soon. Her life was rarely so calm for so long and her gut told her that something sinister lurked on the horizon. All of this could still come crashing down and she didn't want to raise herself too high to have that much further to fall.
* * * * *
The Enchanted Forest – Our Universe
Lancelot dismissed the peasants back to their labours and disappeared inside his hut, his solemnity waning as the door closed behind him and his expression morphed into a satisfied smirk. In seconds, the dark, handsome features of the well-beloved knight twisted and melted into those of an older woman. A woman with cruel, narrowed eyes; thin, painted lips; gaunt cheeks and sharp angles. Her bony hands brushed imaginary dust off the front of her dress and tugged the creases out of her bodice.
"Everything going to plan, love?" a voice asked from a swarthy character who sat lounging at a table in the corner of the room.
Red lips thinned impossibly and then parted. "Yes, Hook; my plan is coming together. In a few short weeks we will be in the land without magic. I will be with my daughter again and you will have your crocodile."
"Excellent," the pirate responded, his eyes fixed on the glint from his prosthetic appendage. "I'd best sharpen my hook and give the Jolly Roger a bit of a spit shine."
Cora's sharp eyes watched as the captain sneaked out the back door. "Fool," she whispered to herself. He'll never defeat the Dark One, she thought. "I on the other hand, will be ready to meet Rumpel head-on. And Regina will be right by my side."