A/N: So hai. Uhm, I'm kinda new to this fandom, like the FF part of it at least, so pls be gentle bc I'm a fragile little soul. Jk, any criticism (preferable constructive) would be amazing, and I hope you enjoy. ALSO about the different point of view, idk it felt right to write it like this, so yeah. Hands in the air, don't care. Thank you for reading!

~.oO0Oo.~

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You Can't Break What's Broken

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You don't really ever know what's going to happen until it's happened.

As a matter of fact, it's one of the things you hate most. Aside from King Leopold, of course. He hates you just as much, though, if that were possible. You suspect it's only by Regina's hand that you aren't dead. Maybe that upsets you immensely too, knowing that she likely suffers just for you to remain here. However, you selfishly push that thought aside when you think about how broken she is after a night with him; how she relays on you so heavily to put all her fragile pieces back together after the King has broken them.

You're her reason for living. At least, that's what she says. You like to think she means it; what else are you supposed to do when you're irrevocably in love with the Queen? How's that for a mean trick?

You, are Emma Swan. A simple servant of King Leopold; and the only hope left for his Queen.

Speaking of whom, you are drawn out of your thoughts by the same woman who occupied them.

"Do I look okay?"

The voice of the Queen swirls through your ears and it's all you can do to not smile widely. You give a simple nod.

"Of course; as you always do, Your Highness."

It looked as though she opened her mouth briefly, no doubt to correct your choice of name, but you see her eyes dart quickly to the other woman in the room. A maid, and one who would have no issue telling the King that his wife is on a more than comfortable first name basis with a servant. You simply give her an imperceptible wink that lets her know you're on the same page- neither of you need Leopold even remotely upset- and she gives you a small smile in return, the gratefulness in her eyes apparent.

Gently, you grasp her shoulders and turn her to face the other direction so you can begin lacing up the back of her dress. There's a dinner party tonight, another thing that the both of you dread. Any occasion where Leopold can drink, he does. Which, is a nightmare more so for Regina than it is you; a drunken King is a violent King, and one who takes what he wants. Regina knows this, she had learned quickly when to expect the inevitable encounters between herself and her King. You can tell that she knows because you've started to notice how she withdraws the day of the event, undoubtedly mentally preparing herself for the night to come. It causes a sharp pain in your gut to watch it. To have to watch her retreat into a shell at the hands of her husband's abuse.

It's sickening.

But you do your best to make her happy. It's the small things that count, in your opinion. You know that getting a smile out of her won't ever make up for everything she's endured; but maybe it can help her not feel the pain of it. You can't do much while the King is around, or someone that would whisper in his ear is. But, nothing makes you happier than when he leaves the castle, or the servants are called away to do something. Normally, you'd go with them, but somehow Regina had convinced her husband that she needed you to stay with her; that she needed a personal…"lady in waiting"…as it was called. She must've caught him in a good mood for him to grant her such a request, or, done something for him. You pretty much believe it was the second option, seeing how he's never in a good mood, and ever since you'd known him, the King hadn't let Regina be alone with someone who wasn't family, or with him in the room. Which, looking back, doesn't surprise you; especially not now that you know about the possessive bastard that he was. And still is, for the most part. You're the exception, but that doesn't mean there's no rules. Quite a few times Regina had been punished for what he deemed disrespectful behavior, or in other words, got too close to you for his liking.

It didn't stop the Queen, though.

Even when you begged her not to. Pleaded with her that you weren't worth whatever suffering that being around you warranted. She still refused to dismiss you.

Once again, the selfish part of you didn't mind. You didn't mind sitting on the elaborate sink with your back to the wall, reading while the Queen bathed. You didn't mind the playful banter that often happened during these times, resulting in the melodious sound that was Regina's laugh echoing through the room. You didn't mind the nights where you and the Queen sat on her bed and talked. Sometimes it became deep, other times it was simply petty discussion. No matter what the activity, you've found that anything you do with Regina is something that you'd do again, and again, and again.

But you've learned. Learned that not all eyes in the castle are in favor of Regina. Not everyone here cares what happens to the Queen, something that baffles you. How could anyone want to subject a person like Regina -kind, caring, selfless- to the things that, to some degree, everyone knew happened. It's something beyond you, but you have taken it into account. Experience, after all, is a brutal teacher; but you learn. Oh, do you learn.

The most clear example in your head is the time that a chambermaid had walked in on one of Regina's baths, except, you had been on the sink, laughing animatedly with the Queen. Somehow, word had gotten back to the King, and he had taken it very wrongly. The following week had been hell. It had gutted you, or at least, that's what it felt like. The Queen had a limp for a week, and you spent that time trying to cover up the dark bruising around her eye, her split lip, and the cuts that had been on her back, most likely from being pushed against the wall. All because someone had told the King that you two were bathing together. And just like that, something innocent had turned into a few weeks of hell for Regina at the hands of Leopold.

That experience had you wary for a number of weeks, constantly looking around when it was just the two of you. Always double checking that you never called her by her given name, let alone slipped up and called her Gina like you did sometimes in private. But, she grew tired of this, told you that she'd rather have bruising for months than go without you. You wanted so badly to tell her no, that you weren't worth that trouble. You weren't worth any bruise being lain to her skin. But you didn't. You had simply nodded and went on like you had been doing, albeit more cautious. You rationalized it by telling yourself that as long as she was happy, things would be okay. You were painfully wrong. But again, hindsight is always 20/20.

You find yourself grounded by her voice dismissing the maid. She gives the woman a plausible excuse that seems to work, and a few seconds later, you are alone. You finish tying up the dress, and as soon as you do, she's turned to face you, her eyes searching yours for the words that you aren't saying.

"Do not worry for me, Emma." she says softly, tucking a stray hand of your hair behind your ear.

She had an innate ability to read you like a book, sometimes you loved this about her, and other times, you viewed it as a curse.

"How can I not?" you answer.

She sighs at this, her chocolate eyes twinkling slightly as she smiles softly.

"I suppose that choice is entirely your own, but it would make it a lot easier on me if I knew that you were not in distress."

The gravity that her words hold have your stomach in knots before you realize it.

"That's not fair, Regina. How am I to sit here and be calm while I know in a matter of hours the man you call your husband will be ready to hurt you? How am I to remain calm while you try to hold back your cries two doors down?" you're talking fast now, desperation is taking over, as it almost always does.

Slight hurt appears briefly in her eyes and you instantly feel guilt rise up in you.

"I-I-I'm so-" you begin to stutter.

She holds her hand up, silencing your apology.

"Don't apologize for your feelings, Emma. I know it's a lot to ask of you, and I'm sorry that it is you that I place this burden upon, but I fear that if you are not strong -for me- tonight, then I will have nothing. If you must worry, then I can not stop you, but please, try not to be scared for me."

You're quiet at this. You think about what she's saying, really think about it. It's like a slap of reality, cold hard reality, in the face. Once again, she's somehow feeling the need to apologize to you, and there's absolutely no reason for it. Always the selfless one, even if it is her that should be worried over. If she needs you to not worry, then you know you'll try your hardest not to. In truth, you'd try your hardest to do anything she asked of you.

"I'll try, for you." you say softly, gently grasping her hand.

She smiles at this, and gently squeezes your hand back.

"I won't be seeing you until morning, I guess. I can't imagine the party starting this late and being over in time for this to be done before morning."

You nod at her words, register what she's saying. You won't see the damage until tomorrow morning, at least, not unless you're lucky enough that Leopold passes out in his own chambers. Rarely does this happen, though, so you don't count on it.

Briefly, you glance at her features as she meets your eye. She looks so young, innocent. Even after being subjected to the King for almost two years now. It briefly goes through your mind that it's because she is young. Only twenty-four. This fact saddens you as well, that someone so young and so kind like Regina could be forced to endure the life that she does.

With that thought leaving your head, you return the small smile that's on her face.

"I'd give all the money in the kingdom to know what goes on in that head of yours." she says softly.

"And yet, all you have to do is ask." you respond with a wink, walking to the door with her.

"Thank you, for everything." she tells you as you open the door.

You can see Leopold coming up the hallway towards the two of you. You notice Regina stiffen as she swallows thickly, like a nightmare is making its way down the hallway. Then again, it is.

"You're welcome, Your Highness." you almost say it almost coldly, as the King is now within earshot.

She turns briefly to meet your eyes once more, and you do your best to convey the feelings that you have. That she'll be safe, and that you care, because tonight, she'll need all she can get. You barely catch the quirk of her lips as she turns and takes the arm of her husband, but it's there. You turn around and make your way to your chamber, shutting the door behind you. As you slide down against the back of it, you begin to cry. You cry for the pain that is bound to come to Regina. You cry for the happiness that is stolen from her. You cry for the helplessness of your situation.

You cry for your Queen.