Damnatio Memoriae
Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of its respective characters. I have no affiliation with Horowitz/Kitsis, ABC, or Disney and am not profiting from this work. I also don't own Disney's Enchanted, which I'm going to shamelessly hijack later in this story.
Note: This follows canon loosely up to but not including Manhattan. I say loosely because I'm flat out ignoring that stupid things like Henry redecorating the loft to defend against Regina happened. That said, it does assume all Fairy Tale Flashbacks through The Miller's Daughter took place unless otherwise noted in the story. After that everything you know is a lie.
Forget and Forgive
Trees grasped at Snow White, branches and roots springing to vile purpose to catch at her clothes, at her skin. No sooner had she dodged one limb than another swooped into her path. Just a few more yards and she'd be free of the garden; safe on City Hall's stone courtyard. One more step –something tightened around her ankle and the world turned over. The spindle she'd clutched dropped from her fingers as she instinctively spread her hands to catch her fall.
At the top of the stairs Cora and Regina ceased their spell and turned. Snow, now bound to the ground by the roots of Regina's apple tree, could only move her head and watch as mother and daughter descended the steps and strode toward her.
She'd failed.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" Cora taunted. With a wave of her hand the roots pinning Snow plowed themselves up, hauling their captive to face the two witches. Snow trained a glare at Cora and Regina, hoping she'd hear the spindle land somewhere else. No such luck but she saw Regina's eyes track down, flicker with recognition and then snap up to meet her own.
"And what, I wonder, did you possibly think you were going to do once you got to us? Surely you didn't expect to shoot us?" Cora continued, as the quiver strapped across Snow's chest was ripped off and tossed away with her bow tucked uselessly inside.
Cora took another measured step toward her. The crisp whisper of her slacks echoed loudly in Snow's ears as the witch reached a gloved hand to her heart for the second time. But then she paused.
"Regina darling, perhaps you should do the honors? You've waited such a long time."
Cora's gaze never Snow's, but the younger woman could see Regina in her peripheral. Could see the deposed Queen bend, straighten, her face set in a stoic expression.
"You're right Mother, I've waited a very long time," Regina agreed, her attention focused solely on her mother. "Here, take this."
Cora turned toward her daughter with her hand still outstretched and Snow White gasped as Regina handed her mother the spindle, point first. The sharp tip pierced Cora's palm through her leather glove and shock spilled across her face.
"Regi…nahhh." The name slipped from her lips like a dying sigh as Cora collapsed to the grass.
The roots holding Snow aloft released like rubber bands, plunging back into the earth as she landed roughly on her feet.
Regina gave her a curt nod and dropped to her mother's side before they both disappeared in a cloud of violet smoke.
They re-materialized in the dark mausoleum Regina had erected for her father.
It was appropriate, she supposed as she raised her hands and the stone blocks forming the tomb rearranged themselves, making just enough room for her to conjure a second coffin next to her father's, he had loved her mother once. So much so that he couldn't summon the courage to confront her, even after all the love had been banished from her heart. Now he lay dead at his adored daughter's hands and she'd cursed with her mother with eternal sleep.
Just days before Regina had allowed herself to hope that perhaps Cora truly had been seeking a reconciliation. The old pattern of pain followed by an apology, followed by, "I only want what's best for you darling." Regina let herself fall for it every time, needing to believe in her mother the same way she wished Henry believed in her. But Cora's relentless determination to possess the Dark One's power and the love spell she'd found among her effects had finally made it clear to Regina that her mother was still more concerned with dominance than reconciliation and would do anything to further her pursuit of power and control, including turning a child's love into a tool.
She wasn't certain whether Cora intended the spell for her or her son but for a moment she'd been glad that Emma Swan had had the audacity to take Henry out of Storybrooke, out of Cora's reach and she'd begun looking for a way to make it safe for him to return.
Without her heart it was impossible for anyone to simply kill Cora, though Snow and Charming had certainly tried. Their plan to use the cursed spindle had been more canny than Regina liked to give the two idiots credit for but they never would have caught The Queen of Hearts in a moment of weakness. So Regina had waited, maintaining her mother's trust until she could do it herself and buy enough time to find a more permanent solution.
Looking down at her mother's still form in the casket Regina remembered the last time she had done so, a world and a lifetime ago, and had no words of remorse for the woman this time. Love may be her weakness but it wasn't one that she would allow her mother to exploit ever again.
She took a resolute step back and sent a pulse of magic toward the granite coffin. The curse wasn't fail proof and she had no doubt Cora was capable of finding a way to return to her body from the Netherworld, but if she managed it her magic would be sapped and the spell on the coffin would keep her contained until Regina found her heart.
She lowered exhausted arms and surveyed her handy contemplating her next move. Though magic was getting easier to use every day she'd taxed herself earlier trying to contain the damage to her town without alerting her mother. Cora had been bent on tearing everything apart in her search for the dagger. Regina had only been capable of preventing total destruction without tipping her hand too early but she had made certain the only unsalvageable structure was the the one her mother had gotten to first. She would repair everything else relatively easily once she had time to recoup some of her strength. She'd need to recover before she attempted to go after Cora's heart which made the next order of business finding her son and Emma Swan.
The door to the Mills' Mausoleum creaked open and the Blue Fairy flung her arm forward, releasing dust toward Regina head on. The former queen reached up to deflect the magic and was frozen in her defensive stance.
"You've used up your last chance Regina," David stated as he stepped out from behind the crypt. "Now you'll be brought to justice for the terror you've wrought on everyone in this town."
Frozen as she was, Regina could only pour every ounce of her considerable frustration and loathing into a glare. Her only pleasure was Charming's obvious discomfort and Blue's refusal to meet her gaze.
The bar at Granny's was a far cry from their council chambers in the summer palace, but it was the best place for them all to meet since Snow's apartment had burned when Cora and Regina tore through the town. David's captains, once headed by Lancelot, were absent. As was Gepetto, who had confessed his betrayal and resigned from their court in shame –though they hadn't asked it of him. Snow, David, Grumpy, Archie and the Blue Fairy sat at the bar, while Red and her ever busy Granny washed and dried dishes behind the counter.
"We should have let the wraith take care of her when we had the chance," David said.
"Then I'd say it's about time we corrected that mistake don't you." Grumpy, of course, could be counted upon to push for the most efficient, and preferably most violent, solution. "Three strikes, she's out."
Snow was about to protest but Ruby beat her to it.
"Regina didn't kill any of us when she had the chance. And without her we never would have gotten rid of Cora."
"Without her damn trees Snow might have succeeded on her own. And Regina nearly destroyed half the town!"
"We got lucky," David agreed with the ill-tempered dwarf.
"She's worked for months to change for Henry," Archie spoke up. "And given her actions at the end of the battle, I don't believe she wanted her mother to succeed with her coup."
"That doesn't change the destruction she caused. Every bed in the hospital is full," Grumpy said, thinking of Nova who had been inside the convent when Regina had lit it up with a well aimed fireball. "We're lucky more people weren't hurt, or worse!"
"Grumpy's right and it doesn't change the fact that she cursed an entire kingdom so that she could harm us to begin with."
"And yet she saved my life instead," Snow interjected. "If it wasn't for her Cora would have killed me and our plan would have failed entirely."
"That's one good deed in a ledger filled with wicked ones," David pointed out. "We've given her a second chance, even a third! What if she had gotten the dagger? What if that was her plan this whole time?"
"We don't know that!"
"Well, I'd ask her but she hasn't exactly been a stickler for honesty in the past."
"She saved my life; we will not execute her for that," Snow vowed.
"Then take your pick of the crimes we can execute her for."
It was not difficult to see where Emma Swan got her double dose of stubborn from.
"We could always banish her," Granny muttered glibly, just to break the tension between Snow White and her husband.
"No, she has magic here, I doubt there's a way to keep her from coming back to Storybrooke."
"Well, we can't just let her go free because we don't know what to do with her," Grumpy insisted.
"But we can at least show her the same mercy she showed to us," Ruby spoke up once more. Everyone looked at her expectantly so she continued, "Rather than kill us all she brought us here to new lives for twenty-eight years. They weren't perfect but they weren't awful either. Maybe Regina deserves nothing more or less than a lifetime without her monster."
"How? None of us has the power to curse her into a new existence and who knows when Rumplestiltskin will return and if he'll make a deal for it when he does?"
"There is another way," the Blue Fairy replied though Snow had meant the question to be rhetorical. "We could use a blessing."
"A blessing?"
"Damnatio Memoriae." The fairy nodded. "Its affects are very similar to those of the curse but on a much smaller scale. It's called a blessing for those who wish to find absolution in forgetting."
"Could we cast this spell on her and banish her?" Granny asked as she worried a glass with a towel.
"I can't strip her of her powers. Even without her memory Regina, and those around her, will be safer in Storybrooke where we're sure they can be contained."
"So she won't be able to leave Storybrooke? Can a blessing be broken?"
"All spells can, of course, be broken but given Regina's history it's unlikely that anyone would do the breaking for her."
"So she'd be just like we were? She'd believe she's always been in this land without magic?"
"She'd have memories of growing up in this land yes, as well as a compelling instinct to stay put in Storybrooke. We'd have to be careful not to break that façade."
"We have to be careful anyway," David pointed out, "Now that outsiders can come to Storybrooke at any time."
"There is one other caveat: a blessing must be wished for. Regina must choose this fate."
The other council members traded uncertain glances while Snow White and Charming seemed to carry on a silent debate. It was clear that Snow was hesitant to demand even this punishment. But maybe Ruby was right, maybe the mercy in this case was to give her a fresh start.
"We'll give her a choice then," David said finally. "The spindle still has enough poison left for another sleeping curse; Regina can pick from her own brands of punishment: cursed sleep or a new life in this land."
"Why not just execute me and be done with it!" Regina gripped the cell bars as if the power of her rage would free her. "Or can't the two of you muster up enough courage between yourselves to do even that?"
"It seems more than fair given the circumstances-
"Nothing is "fair" David; haven't you learned that by now?"
"Nevertheless," Snow cut in before Regina could get going, "You saved my life again and now the debt is repaid. Choose the consequences of your actions Regina."
"You're a quick one to judge Snow, considering you never paid yours."
"I paid for mine for twenty-eight years. I lost my father and my daughter for a mistake made by a child. Don't speak to me of consequences," Snow snapped.
Regina's eyes flashed, alight with fury and contempt even under the station's dull florescent lights.
"You can't think that you've defeated my mother. You've only distracted her temporarily."
"We'll make sure there's no one to wake her up," Charming insisted.
Regina scoffed with terrible laughter reminiscent of the Evil Queen she'd been. They weren't prepared at all, they couldn't even imagine what they would face should Cora escape the coffin. Charming's arrogance was his folly. The very cell she stood in now was a testament to that. They'd used no small amount of fairy dust on the prison, attempting to make it magic-proof but Regina could feel tendrils of power licking through the gaps in the bars and knew if she Looked she'd be able to see it reaching for her, offering escape.
What then? Henry was off on an adventure with Emma, just as he'd always wanted and his trust in her had been shattered by Dr. Hopper's apparent death. It would only take a phone call and Emma could disappear with him forever. He'd go willingly, convinced that she was just like Cora, full of lust for vengeance and promises she didn't intend to keep. Her mother had been right about one thing, they were never going to trust her, they were never going to let her live happily with Henry.
And if she stayed...Damnatio Memoriae was drastic, but preferable to any amount of time spent with her mother in the netherworld. It might even truly be a blessing. The curse Rumplestiltskin promised would bring her happiness had only nurtured her bitterness. Perhaps her mistake had been not forgetting along with everyone else.
There was still the problem of Cora. When Rumplestiltskin returned he might have the acuity to take care of her for good but would he manage do so before she found a way out of her spell?
Regina was certain his priority upon returning would be restoring Belle's memories. Which, now that she thought of it, might be the very loophole she needed. The fairies' blessing was a delicate thing; rarely bestowed because it could be compromised with enough power.
"If I accept this blessing," Regina spat out the word, "I want to remember Henry."
"Very well, you shall remember having a son," the Blue Fairy, who had watched the exchange silently from the doorway, promised.
Regina scoffed again but it was only a token effort. Her eyes had emptied of their rage, her grip on the cell slackened. She'd spent enough time playing word games to recognize when an amateur like the Blue Fairy made attempts at diplomatic promises that meant nothing close to what they sounded like.
"We could wait until he and Emma return," Snow offered while Charming stiffened in silent disagreement at her side.
"No." Regina had had more than her fill heartfelt goodbyes. She wouldn't remember it and Henry wouldn't care for it even if he could. Perhaps if she did this before he returned then one day what he would remember about her was that she'd tried to be what he deserved; that she'd surrendered for him when she had never given in before.
"I'd the night to think about it," she said thickly, mind already racing with things to prepare. She might be surrendering, but she was going to do it on her own terms.
Snow and Charming looked to the Blue Fairy, who nodded.
"Of course," Snow said. "We'll be back in the morning for your decision."
Regina glowered at them as they left, playing her part. She waited as the sound of David's truck roared to life and then faded away before seizing those tendrils of magic. She had a lot to do.
At eight o'clock precisely, Snow, David, and the Blue Fairy entered the Sheriff's office to find Regina standing in the middle of her cell, head held high looking as haughty and regal as ever. They gathered in front of the bars and waited expectantly for her to announce her decision.
Snow should have known that it would sound like a demand rather than surrender but she flinched when Regina met her gaze with a venomous glare and spoke:
"I wish for Damnatio Memoriae."
And so it was.