I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters, I just do this stuff for my own enjoyment :D
The crowds bayed like wolves in the full moon, hundreds upon thousands clamouring for a glimpse of the castle steps and the spectacle. Foreign dignitaries watched sombrely as Snow White and Prince James ascended the dais taking their positions on grandiose thrones which sat in stark contrast to the stocks opposite them. Emma watched from the wings, unobserved by all, feeling sick to her stomach at the knowledge of what farcical 'justice' would be dealt this day. Henry may have been right that Mary Margaret and all the inhabitants of Storybrooke were characters from fairytales, but he was wrong in thinking that this was a better place. The crimes were more than wicked but the punishment was Draconian, it would sink them all bellow even Regina's level of cruelty.
When the curse had been broken it felt as though the world had been pulled from beneath her feet, she was in free-fall now. Nothing which she had once known to be real was so. Her life was a farce, a dream half-lived. It had felt so real that now in this world of Fairytales everything was half-formed, dancing on the edge of reality. The well-born here wore raiment's the colour of poison, all purples, blues, blacks and greens, but these colours mingled and blurred with the background. The only things which stood out in Emma's vision was the white of her Mother's dress, the red of Red Riding Hood's cloak, the stocks black and foreboding and the orange glow of metal on coals. Seeing was difficult here, but smells, sounds and tastes were crystal clear, more so than Emma had ever experienced before. It was disorientating and she didn't know if she wanted anything to do with this new world. Henry was happy, but the fact didn't give her any comfort, in fact it sickened her that he could forget the life he had known and the woman who had raised him, she often caught herself wondering if he would always abandon those who loved him so frivolously.
The crowd's jeers reached a fever pitch, drawing Emma from her reverie, as the once Queen was walked, in shackles, to the stocks. Regina was a shadow of her former glory, her face was gaunt and her limbs weak, scrawny and marred with purple bruises. She carried herself with all the decorum of a Queen, not allowing her captors the satisfaction of seeing her resolve broken, but her eyes grew wide as they fell upon the cherry red slippers and the path which would lead her to death. Emma was filled with hatred, not for the woman who had been her nemesis, but for the system which allowed such barbaric practices. The Queen was strapped to the stocks, her arms above her head, legs out to allow the slippers to be more easily placed upon her feet. An old man took the stand holding a long parchment and began to read the sentence. Emma knew the things Regina did were pure evil, but evil is made not born and she couldn't help but think that many of the oh-so-noble people over there would have acted exactly the same way if their happy endings hadn't come to fruition. Just look at Rumplestiltskin, who had dealt out just as much death and destruction. He was pardoned, at a price; luckily Emma herself had dealt with his trial. Running a hand through her hair over and over again, Emma's mind turned once again to Henry who, despite claiming to despise Regina, was still her son more than he was Emma's. Henry was currently in the castle's play rooms with the other children; she would not allow him to be scarred by this travesty.
Emma had tried to stop this by diplomatic means, but the people of Fairytale Land were bloodthirsty in their seeking of vengeance, not so unlike the Queen herself. Two men handled each slipper separately with great heavy pincers; Regina turned her face away, locking eyes with Emma who flinched away from the steely gaze. The slippers were in place. There was a flicker of confusion then an unnatural screaming ripped itself from Regina's throat, her face was contorted in agony as she was released from her bindings and allowed to make her way down the main street for the entertainment of onlookers. They cheered like it was some kind of perverse dance. Filled with bile Emma turned and ran, it wasn't the first time she had done so and it wouldn't be the last. She ran with all the might she could muster bringing herself to a sprint once the palace gates and a waiting horse were within her sights.