So, for the purpose of the ficlet I jumped to several scenes from the arc that followed Emma/Snow on the Enchanted forest. The longest jump is the one at the end that will have somehow a retrospective pov since I tried to do this from several povs and none felt true for Regina's character. I'm afraid I didn't earn brownie points for the last part of the prompt though; I hope you can forgive that.

She didn't feel the push, only the gust of wind against her cheeks as she felt herself fall, her magic a vicious storm inside her chest that threatened to spill and drip as the warmth from Emma's hand around her forearm seemed to be the only thing she was able to pinpoint. The walls from the city hall disappeared just as quickly as air was knocked out of her lungs and the sensation of having crashed against an invisible wall made her grunt. Above her head, a vortex swirled frantically, making her feel dizzy as she clung to the memory of her little prince, the wrath's growl drowning any other sound.

When she opened her eyes, there was something around her that made her skin prickle even before she found herself staring at the tip of a warrior's sword, faceless thanks to the mask that protected them as both Emma and Snow glanced around as well.

At any other given moment, Regina knew she would have fought to be freed, threatening everyone and learning their weakness as she tried to learn what had happened. This time, however, as her eyes searched Emma's the moment the blonde let her go, she only felt like crying.

The Enchanted Forest, a voice whispered on her mind; they were in the Enchanted Forest once again. A thought that stuck to her as the wraith suddenly attacked them, anger and hate cursing through her veins like a reflection of what the spirit was made off.

-.-

Her magic felt strange to her in a way that made her gag as she walked, still being heavily guarded by both Mulan and Snow as Emma and Aurora traded along, the screams of the wraith echoing on everyone's ears as the slightly yellowed grass began to turn green the longer they walked.

And, as Regina walked, as regal as ever, as composed as ever, she could feel not only Snow's gaze or Mulan's worrying one but also Emma's green eyes on her. Less suspicious than her mother's, the blonde didn't blink away when Regina stared back, one eyebrow raised and thousands of words threatening to bubble out of her mouth, questions tugging her stomach as she flexed her fingers, a lazy rivulet of purplish magic barely running down her palms as she did so.

She had spent more than two decades without her powers, she told herself, her back hurting as she kept on walking, the feeling of dread that had settled on the pit of her stomach she second she had realized they were in fact in the forest only growing as the smell of salt and sea began to slip through the thinner trees that surrounded them all. Her powers being sluggish was something she had already felt on Storybrooke after all.

And yet, as they kept on walking, whispers floating towards her but never quite reaching her ears for her to fully understand what Snow was saying to both Mulan and Emma, she didn't feel the power that had once upon a time been second nature to her dormant or slow but mercurial. Strong and untrained and with a flavor that made her repeatedly lick the roof of her mouth, almost as if expecting to find something there, stuck and responsible from the rush she still could feel running through her body.

The feeling continued as they kept on walking, the shadows around them only growing and reaching to them from more angles as hours passed until nothing but the torch Mulan had lighted up with flint and some tinder -refusing to take the offer of Regina's magic as the brunette's fingers itched with the sensation of a flame that felt hotter and stronger than ever- kept the tremulous darkness at bay. Still void of any fighting spirit, Henry's name on the tip of her tongue and rage and anger brimming on her lungs, she refused to stop walking until the stench of an ogre reached them with enough force to make their eyes begin to water.

"We are not going to go back to anywhere if we keep behaving like idiots." She said, snapping her fingers together in an almost nervous tic that made her frown at it. "Unless you are interested on ending up buried under some half-eaten bones that is."

"I'm sure you would feel morbidly curious about that, your majesty." Mulan's sharp words were said without anger or malice but the woman's animosity towards her was obvious on the way she kept her hand close to her sword's handle, quiet expression being licked by the flames that kept dancing at the end of the lit torch.

Regina felt her insides beginning to bristle but she stopped herself. She didn't have the upper hand after all. She felt like she hadn't had that ever since Emma Swan appeared on her doorstep. Trying to pick a fight against someone who would be able to hold a sword while she herself had no magic that answered for her to speak of wasn't the wisest decision to make.

Purple and black sparks beginning to appear around her, she clenched her jaw muscles and kept on walking, grateful however when Mulan and Snow stopped close to an easily defendable clearing. Even if she would never admit being grateful to Snow White.

Emma didn't talk to her that night, being taken away by Snow every time she did something as close as opening her mouth and seeming to be about to call for her. The feeling of her fingers on her forearm, however, never quite left Regina as she, finally, fell asleep while feigning not to realize how Mulan looked over Aurora, pained expression on her features.

It was strange, she thought, before falling asleep, how easily would have been for her older self to use the obvious infatuation the warrior had for the princess for her own agenda and how she couldn't bring herself to do something about it. Ironic as well, a voice on her mind whispered, Emma's expression as she had turned towards her parents and pronounced how she wasn't going to die haunting her in a way that made her squirm, the magic on her still strange and different in a way that didn't quite feel unpleasant anymore. Just alien.

-.-

She wouldn't have imagined that mother was still alive. That was the first thing she thought as they finally reached the small village the few who had survived the curse had created. Decades had passed since she had been on close proximity to the woman's magic and still, as they began to walk towards the makeshift barricade, a tugging on her stomach made her stall and brace herself. Cold sweat formed on her neck and forehead as she glanced at the buildings that could be seen peaking from the other side of the tinder walls.

"Regina?" Emma's voice echoed at her back, voice hoarse. Regina had forced herself not to look too closely but that morning, when they had packed and kept on walking, she had seen how Emma kept staring at her, something gleaming on the back of her eyes. Pity maybe. She hated pity, hated the situation she was in and, as such, she had huffed and began walking even before Mulan was done with the lackluster breakfast Snow had been able to make.

Now, however, as she glanced at her right, she could see something that wasn't pity but worry on Emma's face, on the way her eyes searched her face in the same way she had stared at her, back at the mines.

She had felt dizzy that day, worry the only thing she had been able to feel besides the tears that threatened to spill when she had closed the distance between Emma and herself, arms crossed and so close to the other woman's chest she had felt the graze of the leather against her jumper when Emma had looked down, stepping back in a nervous stammer. Now, instead of moving away, the blonde clutched her forearm. Glancing down, Regina realized part of her vision was beginning to get filled by black dots.

Her magic answered to it, a rush of power that didn't quite assuage her worry but made her clench her jaw and nod, swallowing down the bile she felt beginning to caress her tongue as she looked up again, noticing both Snow and Aurora just behind Emma, confusion written on their faces.

"The Queen of hearts is here." She said, and she was surprised of how composed she sounded, how strong she seemed. She hated herself for feeling weak, hated her traitorous mind as it remembered the screams and terror, the hatred she had harbored the years during her reign, feeding from it as her power grew and her heart crumpled.

Weak

Pathetic

She was soft, had been getting soft during the curse and was now going to pay the price of thinking she ever would have had the opportunity of extricating herself from the other woman's web.

Emma, however, stubborn, stupid, savior Emma, didn't recognize the title even if Snow's small gasp and Mulan's sudden intake of breath was enough for Regina to realize they knew who she was talking about. Or, at least, had the persona her mother had created on her minds; as twisted and inexact as it was.

"Who?" The blonde's lips pursed, probably trying to find a link between the cartoons characters Regina had hated the times she had been made by Henry to watch to the films and who they had turned out to be. "Alice's Queen?"

Her question, however, was lost as the doors of the village were open, swords and hoes directed at her as the first exclamations were heard, vitriol and acid spilling of her new "The Evil Queen" she heard.

And, beneath those, the rumbling whisper of her magic, already caressing and beckoning hers.

-.-

"And who are you?" The question oozed out her mother's mouth like poisonous honey, soft and sweet in a way that made Regina think on nights in where she had thought she was already safe, that whatever error she may had made during the day had been forgiven.

Until the sharp pain appeared once again, blinding and hot until she couldn't cry for help anymore, terror on her chest as Cora raised her over her head only to discard her like some broken toy.

She hated the memories, hated the weakness, the doubt. The things that mother had probably already sensed if the narrowing of her eyes was any indication.

She had always been better than her to chess after all. She was already playing a card Regina wasn't even sure that was even possible to had.

Untrained, that was what she was; untrained and stupid.

"I'm Hen…"

"No one." The words escaped her mouth, effectively cutting Emma off and making Snow yelp in protest before Regina could give them a withering glare. Scared and surprised as she was; with magic not entirely, hers as she had begun to suspect running through her veins, she wasn't going to give mother any kind of information regarding Henry's existence. She would eat her own heart first.

"It's funny." Mother replied, acid on her tongue and eyes never straying from stupid, stupid Emma. "Every time you say this you end up lying."

Regina clenched her fists and said nothing, remembering too vividly Daniel's grunt as mother's fingers turned her heart to dust.

"I'm not lying."

And, for the first time in a long, long time, she truly hoped she was better liar than her mother.

-.-

("No!"

The scream reached her ears before she realized she was the one who had said it as mother's fingers dug themselves into Emma's chest, maniac glint on her eyes turning into a surprised yelp as Emma's legs shagged, a beaming light exploding from the woman's chest as mother was propelled backwards.

Hook already down and vortex beginning to gap between them, Regina felt her own knees tremble as she suddenly recognized the taste of the magic the blonde's body was exuding, the same one she had felt on her since the first day they had fell there, bodies close and fingers still grasping the fabric of her now slightly filthy jacket.

She didn't have the time for revelations however and so, after pushing Snow with an unceremonious shove, she grasped Emma's shoulders and, probably demented, started to infuse as much power as possible on the woman's body, tasting the same rich flavor on her mouth the moment the mercuric, untrained magic reacted to hers.

Emma Swan had magic. Magic so strong it made her tremble as they, finally, fell into the portal that would be bringing them to Henry, to her little prince.)

-.-

"Your mother is a piece of work."

The words made Regina chuckle dryly, the truth on them bigger than she was able to fully express. Glancing up, she blinked as Emma's hair created a halo around her, illuminated as it was with Granny's lights. They still hadn't talked a lot after their return, Henry taking Emma away in a way that had made Regina want to clench her hand around her own heart. However, when Emma had invited her the brunette had, stupidly perhaps, agreed to it.

She wasn't going to sleep that night after all, mother's face too close still for her to have a resemblance of rest.

"She is." She finally said, voice steady but soft, hands on the pockets of her coat and the magic she had felt on Emma's caressing her fingertips.

They would eventually need to talk about it, she thought. Emma hadn't made any questions to her yet, but she could feel them; bubbling just below the surface, waiting.

Less than a couple of weeks ago she had wished for the woman she had in front of her gone, outside a picture she had felt she had fought hard to have, to possess. Now, however, the idea of using Emma's obvious, almost intoxicating power, was something that made the back of her throat feel sore and dry.

Pathetic, weak. The insults kept on piling behind her eyes, but she fought them momentarily, looking at the soft look Emma had on her eyes, on the way pity didn't fill them but empathy. A kind of empathy she would have hated once upon a time and now felt strange but calming in a way.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, not really knowing how to express what she was talking about, the compulsion to speak tugging at her tongue as she swallowed, the taste of the lasagna she had barely touched not strong enough to make the surge of power from Emma pale in comparison.

It was dizzying. In ways that weren't entirely bad.

Emma hummed and nodded at the words, glancing quickly at her back before taking a step forward, the wool of her cardigan making her look strangely sweet, younger perhaps and Regina thought not for the first time how the younger version would have looked to her: A threat? A possibility? If she was sure of something was how she didn't want to be like her mother. Not again.

"I know we aren't friends." The blonde began, softly, slowly, as if weighing each word in a way that was so not Emma that made Regina want to snort and say something cutting only to stop herself, thinking on the woman's smile as she had closed the door behind her, lasagna on the other hand and something akin to hope fluttering on her lungs. "But I want you to know that…" The blonde frowned but kept on talking, voice clear on the quiet night. "we are more than our parents, Regina. I don't fully understand what's the story behind but… you are not her."

For a woman who had smashed her against a wall less than a few weeks ago the words truly meant something even if they were feeble on the truce that seemed to have been settled the second Snow had been able to explain what had happened on the Enchanted Forest, starred eyes as she spoke of how they could go back to the realm, retrieving their thrones.

"Careful, Miss Swan." Regina spoke, forcing her lips to curve in a practiced smirk. "One would say that you care about me."

Emma tilted her head at that, green eyes turning dirty white for a moment, the rush of magic strong enough that the lights around them titillated on the lampposts, a gust of wind circling them.

"I trust you."

Regina gasped at the words, hot and cold on her skin as she felt a traitorous blush crawling up her neck. Without any other word the blonde turned and left, entering into the dinner with just the barest crackling of the old door.

Idiot, she thought.

Stupid, stupid idiot.