Whiter Shade of Pale

Written as a challenge piece to improve myself as a writer. And because I'm totally in love with OUAT and fairy tale mythology.
Will be AU once season 2 starts, but for now follows everything through the season finale.

Warning: Not a swan queen pairing, because I don't see it happening. But there is an unrequited love between two girls. This is part of my challenge, to write something that I feel a tad uncertain about approaching. So if you are not looking to read about this, consider this your official warning.

I do not any characters from Once Upon a Time...yadda, yadda, etc. I just invented the back stories and the future plot.

Summary: Snow always figured that Regina had just cause for hating her. But what was the deal with the heart? Seriously. And Regina knew the moment she first saw Snow that Snow was in trouble. She just hadn't known how much it really was. Sometimes all it takes is one heart, to cause so much trouble.

***
Prologue

She knew it was over. The moment that she looked at her and laughed, the sunlight on her hair, the light in her eyes, the small dimple on her left cheek. Cora had tried everything to get this beautiful woman to see her, really see her. Sure they were friendly, but that was all. And Cora wanted more. She wanted to know everything about her, to share everything with her.
But Maggie was either naive or cautious.
A snore came from the corner, rousing Cora from her thoughts. Her very drunk father had rolled onto his back again, making a noise that would wake the neighbors if they didn't live so far out of the town, just outside of the mill.
Dawn was fast approaching and she knew her father would be no good for the morning rush, so she hopped out of her bed, her cold feet touching the floor. But Cora liked the cold. The nippy feel outside, woke her and kept her going.
Maggie was the first to show, just like usual. Since her father owned the bakery, she was always in early for the first bags of freshly ground flour.
This particular morning, the mule was being obstinate.
"Look I know you haven't been fed, but neither have I. You'll eat when there is something to pay for food with, so get moving you worthless animal. I could sell you for lard." Cora grumbled under her breath, pushing against the mule's backside.
Maggie had heard her words, because she sharply replied. "Speaking to the mule like that won't help."
Cora hissed, Maggie's soft anger at her harsh words, just driving home her own feelings of worthlessness. But Maggie's face softened. "Here try this."
Maggie came around to the front of mule, stroking its muzzle. "Look, I know that it is a hard life here, but your master is kind. She doesn't eat first and leave you to starve. She is working on an empty stomach too you know." Then she began to hum. It was a tune about children playing underneath an apple tree. Maggie had sang it once at a town dance and Cora was sure that she loved her all the more for it.
Cora didn't remember all the words, but a knot grew in the pit of her stomach. And it wasn't from lack of food. Humming and singing reminded her of her late mother. She always used to hum, while she cooked, while she cleaned. Any sort of song, just seemed to remind Cora of how alone she was without her. And without Maggie, she was sure she would hate music altogether.
The mule began to move as Maggie moved and sang with it. She kept singing softly and began to include some of the words.
"Around the tree, two little girls sing, both lament their losses.
For underneath the apple tree, lie two little crosses.
Each had a love, whom Death had stole,
Each had an aching heart.
The two of them, in grief were joined,
Death's only failure to part."

Maggie stopped singing, seeing a tear escape from Cora, who quickly wiped it away.
"Oh, Cora. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. It was just the first song that popped into my head. I wrote it about us, you know."
Cora was about to deny crying, but the last part made her pause. "You did?" Maybe she had hope after all.
"I know you lost your mother, and I lost my sister. And last summer when you just let me sing silly little things under the tree for you, it helped. Grief together is better then grief alone."
Cora couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Maggie had tears in her eyes now.
Cora longed to comfort her, but she couldn't think of anything in her clumsy ways. She tried to picture her mother and what she would have done. Stroked her face. Brushed the hair out of her eyes. Cora dropped her hold on the millstone and approached. She brushed the hair out of Maggie's eyes and rested her cheek in her palm. Maggie let another tear slip out and Cora used her finger to brush it away.
Maggie smiled and her eyes brightened. Cora took a chance. Placing her other hand on Maggie's opposite cheek, she brought their lips together. The feel of her lips was softer than Cora imagined. Softer and warmer. She felt like she had taken more than one sip of her father's brandy bottle. Her thoughts began to muddle and it was...almost perfect. Almost, because Maggie pulled away.
"What was that for?" She questioned harshly. She didn't look softer and warmer. Cora tried to get her thoughts together for a reply. "I..I...love you. I have for a very long time." She felt bold saying these words. But it was true.
Maggie's eyes softened a bit and Cora thought she was okay, that she was just startled.
"You are a sweet person Cora, who has had a rough life. But this isn't love." Maggie replied calmly.
Cora furrowed her eyebrows. "How...how do you know? That this isn't true love."
Maggie sighed and looked at the ground briefly, trying to gather her thoughts. "Did you feel warm and safe? Did everything suddenly make sense, yet there were no words for it?"
Cora nodded. "Oh, yes. Isn't that what it's supposed to feel like?"
Maggie gave a smile, but it was a sad and sympathetic smile. "Yes, but I did not feel those things."
Maggie picked up her flour sack, still empty and turned and walked out. "We can still be friends, I hope." She added turning briefly before leaving.
Cora didn't respond. She didn't have the strength.
When Maggie was out of sight, she ran back towards their hut. Her father was there. Cora knew exactly where he would be. She ran to the town square where he was drinking and gossiping with a few of his drinking buddies.
Cora sat down at their table and took one of the men's bottles and took a low swig. She hated the way it burned, it was stronger than brandy and she grimaced. The man began to complain, but her father hushed him. "Bit young for such troubles don't you think?"
He took a swig from his own bottle. "What's eating at you? You look awful."
Cora turned stiff. "She doesn't feel the same."
Her father frowned. "Okay, this is way too early in the day for this. Who and what?"
"Maggie doesn't love me. She just wants to be friends. But I only love her papa." Cora never called him papa, but right now it slipped out.
There were whispers between the other men and Cora's father shooed them away.
He placed his drink down and pulled her up straight so she looked into his eyes. "I once loved someone you see, I knew they were the one and only for me."
Cora nodded. "What happened?"
Her father growled. "She married some rich gentleman who didn't love her, because she was well cared for. And then she died in childbirth."
Cora frowned. " Did you even love my mother?"
Her father shook his head. "Nope, love had already hung me out to dry and I wasn't about to let it catch me again, no sir."
Cora felt like the life was seeping out of her.
Her father strove to stop her pitying herself. "Hey, you know what though. I got you out of the bargain. You work so hard, and take good care of me. Someday you'll do the same for your little girl. Give her a chance to be something better then you. A whiter shade of gray. And you could do anything you want to, with enough hard work and determination. You could spin straw into gold with that kind of spirit."
Cora nodded. He was trying to be father-like for the first time in her memory, but all she heard was how useful she was at doing all the work.
"Straw into gold?" A stranger passing by asked.
Cora's father laughed. "My daughter is amazing, she could do anything." He took another drink from his bottle.
The man turned to Cora. "Is this true? You can spin straw into gold?"
Cora grinned cynically. "Of course I can."
Cora would remember this day forever. She supposed was actually her own fault that she ended up in such a awful predicament. A loveless, abusive marriage and a cold cynical outlook. But mostly, she blamed everyone else.