Regina Mills, the Evil Queen, curser of worlds and the villain of the piece was resigned to her fate, or so she thought. She'd waged a war against the world for so many years, with every weapon she could lay her hands on, all to try and find one solitary scrap of happiness on which to plant her flag and claim victory; and she'd failed, with stunning regularity – always bested by good, by virtue, by light. She was, quite frankly, tired of all the losses. This final failure – the fall of Storybrooke – was enough to convince her to simply give up the fight. They'd won, they'd always win. Let them have their victory written in her blood. She was done. She'd made her peace, and accepted that her only legacy would be as a cautionary tale to the wicked – or at least she really believed that she had, right up until the moment that the door to her tower cell opened and she saw the White Knight standing there, striking a bold pose, her arrival announced not by the bright blare of trumpets, but by the resonating snores of Regina's guards.
"Come on, Regina. Time for our great escape." Emma stated, stepping into the room even as Regina leapt up from her cot to go stare out the door, stunned, at the comatose men scattered in the hall.
"Ms. Swan, what on earth did you do?" She asked slowly, eyes wide with shock, and maybe just a tiny spark of enjoyment at the state of her jailers. Oh, how quickly that carefully cultivated sense of surrender was fleeing from her now…
Emma leaned around the door frame and peeked down the hall, the furrow of her brow making her look a little worried, a little guilty. "Well, I've heard the guys complaining about how they missed Granny's buttermilk biscuits now that the diner is kaput, so… I had her whip them up a batch. With a little Nightshade, or whatever."
Regina turned to Emma and cocked an eyebrow, dubious. "If she'd used Nightshade, they'd be convulsing and dying right now."
Emma sighed, slinging a rucksack off her shoulder and pressing it into Regina's hands. "Fine, it was Eye of Newt. I don't know. I forgot my herbology primer back in Storybrooke. There's some clothes in there," she said, gesturing to the sack. "You should change. Not that you aren't rockin' the 'barefoot in burlap' look – just not sure it's going to be functional."
Regina had not survived as long as she had by dithering during a moment that required action, and so she complied with the directive without hesitation, emptying the sack of clothes onto the bed, pulling the poorly made dress she wore over her head and tossing it aside before shimmying into a – quite finely made – pair of riding breeches, and equally fine blouse and jacket. "Just what are you about, Ms. Swan?" She asked, as she sat to pull on a pair of soft leather boots. "You can turn back around, I'm clothed, your virtue is safe."
Emma, who'd been staring intently at the stone wall, now turned, and leaned against it, tapping her fingers against her thighs, the picture of nervous energy.
"I told you – we're making a great escape… Are you ready?"
Regina looked around the room, which contained… nothing, and shrugged her shoulders. "As I'll ever be." Truthfully, she was bemused by the entire situation. She'd never been the damsel in the tower before, awaiting rescue. Emma Swan just never stopped finding ways to put Regina off of her game.
As Emma led the way into the hallway, walking cautiously around the sleeping men, she whispered over her shoulder to Regina. "It was Henry… These past few nights, since he found out… I can hear him crying. I swear, I could hear it in my dreams. It was killing me." She eased open a door leading to a spiraling stairwell. As they started winding down, down, down, she reached back and lightly grabbed one of Regina's hands, leading the way, keeping Regina close. Regina had no idea what to think of the thoughtful action, so wisely chose not to think about it at all, and merely followed along. "So when Henry asked me to do something about it, I said okay-"
"Henry asked you to do this?" Regina interrupted, only just besting the pang of complicated love that made her want to sit down and cry. She was sort of glad now, for the steadying hand on hers.
Emma snorted. "Oh, yes. I didn't come up with the name Operation Sidewinder myself, believe me."
"You should have told him no…" Regina whispered. "It'd be better for him in the long-run…" She trailed off. A part of her really believed that.
Emma stopped short, and turned to look at Regina, squinting against the dim light of the stairway. "Regina – you're his mom. You being killed won't be better for him. Not short-run, not long-run, not ever. Henry matters to me more than anything, and his mom's not dying on my watch." And where Henry was concerned, it was always Emma's watch.
"He's not coming with us, though…" Emma continued, resuming her progress down the stairs. "We decided it's safer for him here – you and I will do better without him to worry about."
Regina mulled that over. "You… and I?" She echoed. "You're coming with me?"
Again, Emma snorted. Regina was going to have to teach her some slightly less… brutish… noise of disdain at some point. "Lady, if you think I'm sticking around to take the fall on this one, you've got another thing coming. Henry and I thought it'd be better if I made myself scarce for awhile, until this blows over. And this way I can keep an eye on you. Pull a little White Knight action if you get it in your head to try and conquer the realm, or whatever you people are into."
They reached the bottom of the stairs. Emma dropped Regina's hand, and pushed open a heavy wooden door. The cool night air against her skin was one of the sweetest things Regina had ever felt, and against that gentle breeze, the last vestiges of her resignation just blew away, replaced by the will – fragile, but growing stronger by the second – to try just one more time.
They moved more quickly now, away from the tower, and over to the tree-line, which they followed towards the stables. Regina hadn't had much of a chance for a homecoming tour when Storybrooke collapsed, and left them back in Fairy Tale Land, but this was a place she remembered well, and as fondly as she remembered anything to do with her unhappy marriage. Hitched to a pole was one of the single most worn-out looking creatures that Regina had ever laid eyes on. She looked at Emma doubtfully.
"Ms. Swan…" She began, turning back to look with a sort of bemused horror at the way the horse's head drooped woefully towards the ground. "What is this?"
Emma shrugged. "He's my horse. Mickey Mouse. I'm not much of a rider, you know, so they got me a sorta low-key one."
Regina shook her head. No. Absolutely not. "Ms. Swan, this animal is older than I am."
Emma whistled long and low, earning her a sharp glare from Regina. "Sorry, I joke when I'm nervous, little tic of mine." Regina just rolled her eyes, and then stepped away from Emma into the dark of the stable building. Unsure what to do, Emma turned to Mickey, scratching along his neck. "She didn't mean any offense, Mick… You're the greatest."
A few moments later, Regina emerged from the building with a triumphant smile, leading a massive spirited… steed. That was the only word Emma could think of. That was a straight up wild-eyed super-stallion. And one that she recognized.
"Uh, Regina?" She said, slowly, suspecting this little protest would be futile. "That's my dad's horse, I'm pretty sure."
Regina's eyes sparked. Oh, she was feeling lively now. "And a truly remarkable animal he is!" She turned towards the horse's side, running a hand along the saddle, then moved to cinch up the girth. "Your… parents…" she forced out, as she tugged at the strap under the horse's belly "… were so torn up about how I prevented them from giving you the very best the world has to offer-" Adjustment completed, she looked towards Emma and smiled in a way that was just a little bit wicked, and despite herself, Emma was glad to see the traces of that old heedless confidence on Regina's face, "-and now, I'm helping them to make up for lost time!"
Emma resigned herself. In for a penny, in for a pound. She helped Regina move the saddle bags from the one horse to the other, and then watched as Regina swung lithely and easily up into the saddle of the enormously tall horse. The horse side-stepped and danced around a little, but Regina brought him quickly to heel, grinning all the while.
At least she looked liked she knew what she was doing up there, Emma thought dubiously. One last quick circle around, and then Regina brought the horse to a stop just exactly before Emma. She reached her hand down and smiled, and even with only the moonlight lighting the night, Emma could see how her dark eyes glinted with… with trouble, with excitement, with the prospect of one more day to fight. "Oh hell…" Emma mumbled, as she reached out, took the offered hand, got a foot in the stirrup, and swung on up. She landed snug behind Regina, in a way that was… not unpleasant.
"Hold on tight, White Knight." Regina said, looking over her shoulder – my god, Emma thought. She actually had grinned. Emma wrapped her arms tight around Regina's waist and threw a final Hail Mary up to whoever it was in Fairy Tale Land that accepted those sorts of things. Zeus or whatever. "Yah!" Regina cried out then, giving the horse a swift tap in the ribs. The animal bolted like the barn was on fire, and Emma… Emma just held on for dear life.
High above, on one of the castle walls, a little boy watched the two women disappear into the night, and he smiled to himself, even as tears pricked at his eyes. A complicated sort of happiness. "Operation Sidewinder is a go…" he whispered.