Emma was safe. Emma was back. That's all that matters.
These are the thoughts that keep churning in my head. It doesn't matter what happens next. She's back. Back with her parents, and her son, and her brother, and even that lousy pirate. She's no longer the Dark One. Instead, she's surrounded by family and friends, who right now are smothering her with hugs and kisses, food and drinks at Granny's. It will be a long night for Emma – maybe too long with everything that she's been through. Those idiot parents of hers should know better than to keep her out for too long but maybe Henry, her son – our son – will keep an eye on his mother, and take her home, wherever that might be. Or maybe that poor excuse of a man will interfere and have his own ridiculous ideas of how to take care of "his Swan" for the evening. Oh, the very thought just turns my stomach! Thanks heavens there's so little in me that I couldn't possibly get sick.
I tried to eat at Granny's while I was there, but couldn't. The food, the drinks, the happy voices, were all too much to bear. Robin hovering over me more like an over-protective parent than a lover didn't help either. If I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that his attention towards me hasn't felt the same. The same since when? Since Camelot? Since returning to Storybrooke with our memories vanished? Since saving Emma? I sigh. Since saving Emma.
The thought that we could have failed still haunts me. We had come so close to losing her. I don't think anyone wants to think about it, thus the spontaneous celebration at Granny's. I close my eyes and only imagine the worst. What would Henry have done? Would he have forgiven me for failing him and his birth mother? How would Snow and Charming have dealt with the death of their first-born daughter? Would they have blamed me…yet again? And this town – this made-up, contrived little town and its residents who only existed in my worst nightmare. How would they have reacted to losing their Savior? I don't think I would have survived their fury this time around.
But I breathe deeply and turn away from the fireplace. I refill my tumbler with cider, and sip it slowly, feel it hit the back of my throat and travel down my body. She's fine. Or at least, she will be. We saved her. I saved her. I chuckle at myself. Even I can't fathom that phrase. Emma saved me from the Dark Curse, and I returned the favor. I saved her, broke the curse, and destroyed the dagger. I thought I'd die, but this time we saved each other.
It's all a blur. A battle between Merlin, me, and the Dark One. Arthur was there too wanting to join Excalibur and the dagger, and not realizing the dark magic he would unleash. Another buffoon of a man! The Dark One easily took care of him, but that left Merlin and me. Merlin assured me that if we fought together, we could destroy Excalibur and the dagger once and for all, and save Emma. He was only partially right. He had underestimated the darkness inside of Emma. He wielded the dagger in one hand, and Excalibur in the other, summoning the darkness out of Emma and to him. As the darkness was yanked away from Emma, it hurled her in the air and she landed at my feet. She lay there, her eyes shut and not moving. After a few moments where I thought the worst, she gasped for air. She was alive.
Merlin continued to fight the darkness. He yelled, trying to be heard above the whirling dark magic that was all around us. It sounded like all of humanity wailing and screeching in some unearthly pain, and I desperately tried to hear him. He thrust Excalibur into my hands. "Regina, take Excalibur. You must do this – you must destroy the dark magic, Excalibur, and me. You have to do it swiftly, or it will try to tether itself to you, and then, all of this will have been in vain. Gather all of the light magic inside of you, and do it with all your might!"
I understood all too soon what he wanted me to do. He moved the dagger into both his hands, raised it above his head, and was immediately surrounded by the darkness. I could see his face distorted and grimacing in pain, and yet his eyes never left mine. He yelled at me. "Wait, wait, not yet. Wait for all of it to consume me!" And within a few seconds, he looked at me, pleading and yelling, "Now Regina, do it now."
I was terrified, hating the thought of what I was about to do. Merlin understood, and he was willing to pay the ultimate price. He was choosing to die a hero. I had made the same choice, not so long ago. I held Excalibur in front of me, and ran towards Merlin. The blade went in easily, all the way to the hilt, and I immediately felt Merlin's weight on me. He staggered forward, taking me with him, and then he stepped away. I let the sword go, and watched Merlin fall on his back. The darkness roared around him, but it began to thin out and subside. I ran towards him, fell to my knees, and watched as he took his last breath. He had tears in his eyes, and he smiled. The wizard smiled at me! He whispered, "You did it, Regina. You saved her. You saved me." He took one last breath, and then he was still. I watched as his body, the dagger and Excalibur all melted into the ground beneath me, as if they had never been there at all. And then I sobbed. My crying and breathing were the only things I could hear until I heard the familiar cries and hurried footsteps behind me.
"Mom! Mom, are you all right?"
"Emma, Emma! David, she's alive! Regina! David, check on Regina!"
Henry got to me first, and picked me up off the ground. He sat me up, kneeled in front of me, and held me close. "You did it, Mom. You did it. You saved her." I thought he heard his voice crack a little, and felt his tears on my cheek.
"I'm fine, Henry," looking up at my son, and wiping away his tears. "We're going to be fine."
We were soon joined by David, and he wrapped his arms around me and his grandson. I suddenly found myself in some sort of ridiculous Charming sandwich. "Regina, thank goodness! You're alive!"
"David, I won't be for long. I can't breathe!"
He loosened his grip, and helped me to my feet, still holding my arm. Henry followed, and the three of us walked, hand in hand, towards Emma, Mary Margaret and Killian. Emma was sitting up, no longer looking like the Dark One. Mary Margaret held her daughter close but now sat back. Emma was pale, her eyes dull, and her long, blonde hair clung to her head, but otherwise, she looked all right. Killian, kneeling beside her, asked in hushed tones how she felt and if she could get up. She nodded and rose to her feet. She slowly took everything in – the street, the evening sky, and then us – Killian, Mary Margaret, David, and Henry. Her gaze finally fell on me. She looked at me, almost as if seeing me for the first time. She held my eyes, as she spoke – her voice hoarse and low.
"I knew you could do it. I knew you'd save me."
And for the second time that evening, I broke down. I fell forward, hands on my knees, and let the tears fall. Henry held me, until I heard Emma step forward, pull me up and wrap her arms around us. I can't say for how long the three of us stood there in each other's arms, weeping and whispering that it was over, and we would be all right. I finally caught my breath, and I looked up into Emma's pale green eyes. They were a little brighter and her cheeks were flush and wet with tears. Her tears, my tears – I wasn't sure. I raised my hands to her face, and wiped them away. I whispered, "Welcome back, Emma," echoing another time and place. She let her head drop a little in my hands, and she smiled that lovely, crooked smile of hers that I could never quite read. I always wanted it to mean more, have it be something shared between us, but I was never sure. She didn't say a word, but pulled me close. Henry had slipped behind us, so this time the embrace was just our own. I held her close, felt her breathing against my neck, and I easily matched her rhythm. Again time stood still, until she loosened her grip a little and lowered her head. She stepped back, let her arms fall but still held one of my hands. Before she spoke, she gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. I took it as some sort of silent message between us. "I'm so tired, but honestly, I'm starving." I had to smile and laugh out loud at Emma. There was very little that curbed the woman's appetite.
Of course, her mother jumped on the opportunity. "Well then, Granny's it is! I'm sure everyone will be waiting for us!" She rushed to Emma's side, and our moment was over. We all walked to Granny's, Emma flanked by her parents, followed by the pirate, and Henry and me, trailing behind. Robin and Roland meet us outside Granny's, and we embraced. As Robin held me close, and I breathed in his musky scent – so very different than Emma's - I remember thinking that they were my other family. He was a man I loved, with his son that I was raising as my own. In my life, Robin and Roland mimicked Emma and Henry. The only difference was that I had not admitted my love to Emma. Fairies had not decided our fate. If we were ever to become more than friends, we'd have to make our destiny.
I sigh, and shake loose from my thoughts. I haven't noticed but the room is dark now. The only light is coming from the fireplace. I refill my glass and return to the couch. My own destiny. I'm not even sure what that means. My life has been a series of events, like chess moves, but I've never been the player. I've been the pieces moved by my mother, by Rumpelstiltskin, and even a well-meaning, but ill-informed fairy. I laugh. I'm getting too old to lament what's become of my life. I know I did one good thing – I raised Henry. Maybe the circumstances were contrived, and Rumple's curse predicted that I would raise Henry, and that would bring Emma to Storybrooke, but no one could predict how I would raise that child, and I did my very best. Henry was a good boy, growing up to be a good man. I couldn't be prouder.
As if on cue, I heard the front door open and close quietly. I hear his footsteps as he walks down the hall towards the study. "Mom, you here?"
"Yes, I'm in the study."
He pushes the door a little wider, and joins me on the couch. We sit quietly, watching and listening to the fire. He reaches out and holds my hand. When did my little boy's hands become as big as mine?
"We missed you at Granny's."
I look at our joined hands and softly smile. "I'm fine, Henry. I needed some time for myself to decompress."
"Yeah, I can understand that. I can't believe you did what you did. What if we had lost you?"
There is no point in pretending with Henry. He is much too smart, and he knows, like his mother, when you're lying.
"I did what I had to, Henry. I had to get Emma back, and I had faith in Merlin. I'm just sad that he's gone."
"I know. I wish there had been another way. But at least, it's done. There won't be any more dark magic to worry about."
"Well I'm not so sure about that. I think they'll always be darkness to worry about. I think it's the way of the world. But for now, I'm relieved it's over." I pause, staring at the fire and waiting to ask what has been on my mind since my son joined me on the couch. "Emma – how is she? They didn't tire her out too much, did they? She's really going to need her rest. She's been through so much."
Henry smiled, shaking his head. "No, no. She's good…she…um…she left Granny's…"
"With Henry. I wanted to walk him home."
I turn to the low, soft voice behind us. I had not heard anyone else come in with Henry, and never imagined Emma would be here. She walks closer and stands by the fire. It casts odd shadows across her face and body. I can see that she already looks much better, more like the Emma I've grown accustomed to admiring.
"Emma, what are you doing here?" I try to hide my surprise and delight. I suspect that I failed at both.
"I wanted to spend a little more time with Henry. I wanted to walk him home, and honestly, I needed to get out of Granny's. It was a bit much." She comes closer, lays a hand on Henry's shoulder and gently squeezes. "Thanks kid. You bailed me out."
"That's ok, Ma. I had a feeling you wanted to go."
She then looks down at me as she speaks. "Besides, I don't think I thanked you properly. You didn't stay very long."
"You know me and Granny's, especially when it's crowded. I can only take it for so long."
"I do know you. That's why I'm here."
Henry shifts a little, and gets up. For a moment, I forgot he was there. I wonder if he senses whatever is going on between Emma and me. He smiles at me, leans over and kisses me on the cheek before speaking. He knows something.
"Good night Mom. I'm heading up. Will you come get me if you need anything?"
I smile back. "I'll be fine, Henry. Have a good night."
Henry leans and kisses his other mother. "Yeah kid, we'll be fine. Get some sleep."
"You too, Ma. You're heading back to Grandma's tonight?"
Emma shifts a little, and stares at her shoes. "Actually…no. I don't think I'll be able to rest there, with my parents and Neal. I think I'm gonna crash here, if your mother does not mind. Regina, you ok with that?"
I meet her green eyes. "Of course. You're always welcome to stay."
"Good. So I'll see you in the morning, kid."
Henry leaves the room, but returns only seconds later and hugs Emma. I hear him whisper, "I'm so glad you're home."
Emma pulls him close, and runs her fingers through his dark hair. "Me too, kid. Me too."
Henry lingers for a few seconds in his mother's embrace. He then quietly turns and leaves us.
We don't look at each other or speak for a few minutes. Emma finally breaks the comfortable silence. She turns to me and points to my glass. "Do you need a refill?"
"I don't. I'm afraid I've already had too much."
"Do you mind if I…"
"No, please help yourself." I wave her towards the bar.
She walks over, pours herself a drink, carefully, as if not wanting to disturb the quiet in the room. She returns to the couch and sits close to me. She takes a long sip, sighs and leans back.
"Emma…"
"Regina…"
We both speak and stop at the same time.
"Regina, I just want to…"
"Emma, you don't need…"
And it happens again. I finally reach out and take her hand that has been resting on the cushion between us, and give it a squeeze. "Go ahead. You first."
She laughs a little, and looks down at my hand holding hers. She turns her hand, weaving her fingers with mine. I smile a little, wondering about this level of closeness. It is surprising how easily and comfortably our hands and fingers fit together.
Emma finally speaks first. "I just wanted to thank you again for what you did."
I respond, looking down at our hands. "Emma, you don't need to thank me. I had to do it. You saved me first. Foolish as that was."
"It wasn't foolish, Regina. I had to."
"Why Emma? Why did you have to?"
"I told you that night. You'd come too far, and I wasn't going to let the darkness take over again. You deserved to be happy."
"I'd like to think I could have fought it."
"I'm sure you would have, but I didn't want you to fight that battle. You've fought enough."
"So have you, Emma. Because of me, you've been fighting all your life."
She shifts on the couch and faces me. "Regina, don't do that. Don't go that far back, and blame yourself. You don't deserve it. Besides, you've done plenty to redeem yourself. You've saved us a few times over."
I nod, remembering a few of those times. The common factor in all of those moments was the blonde sitting next to me, and our son. I smile more to myself, knowing that those two will always have my heart.
Emma turns, leans back on the couch. She stretches her legs in front of her and crosses them at her ankles. She sighs, and rests her tumbler on her chest. She seems very comfortable.
She glances down at our hands that have still been joined. Her thumb strokes the top of my hand as she speaks.
"We seem to do this a lot. Save each other, I mean?"
I watched her curiously. "Yes, it seems we do."
"I don't mind it, ya know. The saving, the looking out for you."
"Well I do. I mind it very much." I say with my usual sass, and even a little humor. I can't help myself. I'm enjoying having Emma to myself...
"Which part? The "me saving you," or the "you saving me?"
"All of it, Miss Swan."
Emma laughs softly and the tumbler giggles a little on her chest. "Well that didn't take long. Back to 'Miss Swan.' But I know better now. I know you don't mean anything by it."
"Of course I mean something by it! I call you 'Miss Swan' when you're insufferable."
She sits up and turns towards me. "You mean when I'm irresistible."
I match her gaze. "When you're annoying."
"When I'm adorable."
"When you're ridiculous."
"When I'm right."
"Miss Swan…"
"See – I'm right."
"Right about what?"
Emma lets go of my hand and stands by the fireplace. With her back to me, I see her finish her drink with one, quick gulp. She places the tumbler on the mantel and turns to me. She hooks her thumbs in the back pocket of the jeans and speaks softly.
"You know being the Dark One had its perks. All that power and dark magic with little to no remorse. It was very…freeing. As the Dark One, you don't question or apologize. You just feel and act with little to no consequences. There's no one or nothing to stop you." She pauses and comes closer before continuing.
"I realized some things about myself, Regina. Things that I was afraid to admit to myself."
I put my glass down – the alcohol long since gone. I'm suddenly concerned. Is the darkness still in Emma? Is she having dark thoughts or worse, dark feelings? I know all too well the appeal of dark magic.
"Emma, what's this all about?"
She sits back down on the edge of the couch. "Regina, I know why we keep saving each other. Why we stay close and it's not just because of Henry. I know why I can't seem to get any closer to Killian and why you can't quite commit to Robin."
I was about to protest, try to defend my relationship with Robin for the sake of pride and not much else, but Emma's next move makes me hesitate. She leans in, so close that I can smell the sweet cider on her breath. She looks at me, and I see her eyes move across my face. Her eyes stop on my scar just above my lip, and quickly come back to my eyes. She leans in closer, her body falling against mine. I wish I could protest or push her away as she makes herself so comfortable in my personal space, but I'm defenseless against her body, her scent, her touch. I feel her breath on my skin, matching my own ragged breathing.
She whispers, "Stop me if I'm wrong, Regina."
I feel feather light kisses on the side of my face. Her lips are warm and soft as they leave a trail towards my mouth, and when her lips meet mine, I'm more than eager. Our kiss is urgent and demanding. What we lack in finesse, we make up for in enthusiasm. I run my fingers through her hair, and keep her there in front of me, while I tease and tug at her lips. Her mouth, teeth and tongue meet mine, and I moan a little too loudly. I know it's not ladylike, or anything becoming for a queen, but I don't care. My desire for Emma is finally being appeased. I'm lost in a world of blond locks, full lips, beautiful green eyes that have become impossibly dark, and a very savvy, pink tongue. We go back and forth, giving up and taking control from each other before breathing becomes a necessity.
We pull away only slightly. She tucks a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear, and smiles. I melt once again at seeing her smile at me.
"So I guess I wasn't wrong?"
"No, Emma, you weren't wrong. You knew I felt this way?"
"I wasn't sure, but as the Dark One, I knew."
"You did?"
Emma nods, and shifts on the couch. We sit sideways, facing each other. "The Darkness felt it, knew it was true, and wanted to use it against you. I tried to fight it every time."
"You did fight it. You never hurt me."
"I'm glad for that. I wasn't sure. I don't remember all of it." She paused and took a deep breath before speaking again. "How long?"
"How long have I been in love with you?" Her eyes open wide at my confession, and I stop to think before responding. When did I fall in love? I respond, processing out loud the memories. "Maybe since Neverland. Or when I sent you and Henry away. Maybe even earlier - that night at Granny's after you returned from the Enchanted Forest with Snow. You just kept standing up for me, and no one had ever done that for me." I sigh and I look up at her earnestly. "I don't think there was a single moment. Just too many over time for me to deny."
"But you did deny it? We both did."
"I did. I couldn't imagine you wanting me. Besides, you had your pirate."
"I thought the same thing – you could never love me. And you had Robin."
She mentions Robin and I can only think of her and how I don't want this moment to end. I pull her to me, and she ends up practically in my lap. I wrap my arms around her, and she rests her head on my chest. I feel her left hand sneak under my blouse, and her fingertips begin to draw lazy patterns on my skin. She speaks softly, without looking up.
"So what do we do now?"
I squeeze even tighter. "Well, Miss Swan, I'm guessing we have some awkward conversations to look forward to, starting with our son."
I feel her smile and chuckle in my arms. "I think Henry will be easy. He may not even be surprised."
"Yes, I think you're right. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he planned this entire evening."
She laughs and then grows still.
"Killian will not be happy, but I don't think he'll be surprised."
"Robin may be surprised, but only because he doesn't see the forest for the trees."
She giggles again, and pinches my hip. "That's funny – and mean."
"But it is true, dear."
"And there's my parents…"
"Oh for Heaven's sake! Do we need to tell them?"
She quickly sits up and glares at me. "Regina, of course we have to tell them! Or would you rather they find out some other way?"
I'm suddenly enamored with the idea of shocking Snow and Charming. I pull Emma towards me, her chest and exposed skin at eye level. I imagine Emma hovering above me, bare chested, my hands massaging her and my mouth on her. When I speak, I know it's an octave lower, and my words come out more as a purr. "Maybe we could just show them that we've become more than friends. I know they're daft but if they happen to catch us in various compromising positions, at Granny's for example, that would take care of it, and give me an enormous amount of pleasure."
Emma realizes the effect she's having on me, and grins down at me. Her eyes meet mine, and suddenly warmer between us. My heart beats faster and my body is already responding to Emma's focused gaze. She leers down our bodies and up again, and slowly licks her lips before she speaks.
"Your Majesty, while shocking my parents sounds like a lot of fun, I don't think that's appropriate. They may never recover."
"My point exactly."
"Besides, I'm more interested in exploring those compromising positions and enormous amounts of pleasure somewhere more comfortable than Granny's."
"Like this couch?"
She shakes her head, making her hair fall forward. "Even more comfortable."
"My bedroom?"
"Exactly!"
She meeting my eyes, before lowering herself completely. A moan escapes me, and I'm once again lost in Emma. She shifts slowly, sliding a firm thigh between my legs, as she finds my lips. We kiss slowly, tasting each other again, getting to know what provokes us, what makes the other stir. Our hands seek warm skin, and we begin to shed our clothing. At this rate, we may not reach my bedroom.
In the next few days, I'm certain we'll do what's right. We'll have all those conversations, but for now, there's just Emma and me. There's the truth that we denied ourselves for so long. The truth that we want each other, need each other, love each other. That we're meant to be – and there's no saving ourselves from that.
