A/N ~ Welcome, swens! You would not believe the pain I went through to be posting this now. All I will tell you is please, please back up your writing. Because sometimes, tablets crash and die and you have to rewrite everything. As this is set in the Enchanted Forest, I have taken some artistic licence with culture and wordlbuilding and given all the rando kingdoms names. Also, Snow and Charming are just a little younger than Cora here. I have this planned at about twenty two chapters. Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.

1.

"Come along, dear. And don't gape so."

"But Mama..."

"Mother, Regina, you're not a baby anymore."

Regina clutched Daddy's hand harder, struggling to keep up with her mother's purposeful strides. She didn't even know what gape meant. Just another thing wrong with her, she supposed. But for just one moment, dwarfed by the cavernous ceilings and ornate fixtures of the White Palace, she didn't care. It was so pretty here - prettier even than Grandfather's castle, and twice as big, easy. She craned her head to look at the ceiling, way up above her. Pale gold curtains of shifting sunlight filtered through the dyed-glass windows, set deep in the smooth brick, fragmenting against the glass and falling in a shower of colour against the floor. Slender arches stretched up the walls with a sentient languidness, ending in a spray of marble and glass, so intricate she couldn't even begin to imagine making it. Regina stared. This kingdom was strange. It was wonderful. It had the all-encompassing vastness of something new.

Callendor wasn't new, of course. It was one of the original kingdoms, from way back in the history books when the Enchanted Forest was just beginning. But it was new to Regina. Mama – no, Mother – and Daddy had been here dozens of times before, to discuss crops or trade – whatever those were. Usually they just left her at home with her nanny. This was the first time she'd been allowed to join them. The whole ride here, Regina had gazed out the window of Mama's wheelhouse, watching the endless countryside roll past. It was all lush fields and forest, scattered with small villages and fashionable towns that had looked like building blocks abandoned on the horizon. She saw nothing of her own reflection in the glass but the verdant world outside. She had the near-sightedness of youth.

She stared up at the detailed pictures on the windows. Regina held on tighter to Daddy's hand, falling anxiously behind him a little. It was all so pretty and clean and good and she wasn't allowed to ruin anything. Daddy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as another pang of nerves struck her. She'd met plenty of important people before, and yet... The king and queen of Callendor. Grandfather was a king too, of Xalvadarr, her home kingdom. But he wasn't as important. She thought it was because they didn't have as much land or money or something. She didn't understand it, but Queen Snow White was a big deal. The seething mass of anxiety writhed in her tummy. They were running out of hallway. Her blood felt uncomfortably hot. She didn't want to ruin anything. She just couldn't help it sometimes when she forgot things or didn't know what the right thing was. Even though Mama had spent all morning picking her dress (which had been fun) and fixing her hair (which had hurt), she could help but feel very small and very plain surrounded by all these lovely things.

"Come along, Regina," Mama snapped, snatching her hand from Daddy's and dragging her along faster as they approached the gaping archway into the hall. They passed four guards in the flower-and-lion crest as they entered. Regina felt her eyes widen as she took in the enormous painted ceiling – but she felt her tummy drop when she saw the trio in the centre of the room. The king and queen. Regina dared a glance up at her mother, which yielded nothing. The flashing eyes and hard scowl she was used to had been replaced by a frosty smile and grimly determined stare. She had taken off Mama's face, Regina thought, and put on the face of Lady Cora.

"Welcome!" The woman in the middle of the room stepped forward first, with a wide white smile that seemed more real than Mama's did. Regina squinted at her. She was very pretty, but she supposed she ought to be if she was queen. The white gown she wore matched the tiara in her long dark hair. Regina stood solidly and looked up at her. Mama was holding her hand too tight, as usual. It hurt. Her free hand danced behind her back, fiddling with the ribbon of her dress. She'd liked her dress this morning – it was pretty, the colour of the sky – but now, looking at the king and queen in their finery, she wasn't so sure. "It's been too long. Might I present my husband, the Prince Consort David?" The queen gestured to the tall blond man beside her. Regina frowned uncertainly. She didn't know what a prince consort was. She just thought he was the king. Why couldn't anything be simple? That way she might remember something and be good. She turned her attention back to the towering ceiling. The Prince Consort thingy stepped forward to smile and kiss Mama's free hand.

Regina peered out from around Mama's skirts again. That might have been the wrong thing to do; Queen Snow White caught her eye and lit up with a wider smile, one that reached her eyes, leaning forewords toward her. She glanced up at Mama. "And who's this?"

Regina shrank back uncertainly. That was definitely the wrong thing to do. She knew as soon as she did it. Mama's hard eyes hardened, the grim line of her mouth twitched. She dug her fingers tighter into Regina's skin, fingernails twisting painfully as she yanked her foreword. "This is my daughter, the Princess Regina." Mama always said that, Regina reflected. My daughter. As if she somehow belonged to her more than she did to Daddy. "She's only five, you must excuse her manners. Regina, say hello." Mama hissed.

Regina said hello.

"Oh, I fear I am well used to the antics of children." Snow White smiled graciously and gestured behind her to a girl Regina hadn't been looking at before. Her curiosity for her surroundings had been eclipsed by the queen. "This is my daughter, the Princess –"

"I'm Emma!" Emma announced. Regina squinted at her. She was trying to decide if she liked her or not. She was supposed to be a princess, but she didn't really look like one. She was wearing a pretty green dress, but she had an ugly leather belt around it, with a wooden toy sword stuck through it like the ones the boys back home played with. Her long blonde curls were all messy, going in her face and everything. Regina didn't want to think about what Mama would do if she let her hair get like that. And she wore the biggest, gap-toothed grin Regina had ever seen. "I'm five, too!"

Before Regina could even react, the other princess had lunged foreword and grabbed her hand in her own, bringing it to her lips to plant a small, solid kiss on the back of it.

Regina stared. Something was wrong, she knew. She could tell by the sudden quiet that fell upon the grown-ups, the strange looks. She caught the queen exchange an amused glance with her husband before she turned down to address her daughter. "Emma, sweetie. That's not really necessary for five year olds."

Emma's face fell. "But you said follow by example and Dad just -" She cried, aghast. Her green eyes widened, shining with disbelief as her mouth fell slightly open.

"I know, honey –"

"But you said!" Emma whined. She folded her arms in front of her with a huff, blowing a flyaway strand of hair from her face. Regina stared, enraptured. If she ever acted like that in front of guests, Mama would have been so furious. And then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, Emma wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Fine. It was a yucky thing to do anyway."

-0-

Emma glared sullenly at the new people.
She was still trying to decide whether or not she liked them. Well, the man and the little girl, at least. The lady didn't seem very nice at all; Emma would have hated to have had a mother like that. The girl had kind of drifted back behind the lady's dress again, purposefully avoiding Emma's hard, roaming stare. Stupid. Emma could still feel the prickling burn crawling across her cheeks. Her skin felt all hot and tight. You stupid. She didn't even know why she kissed her – it was a stupid thing to do. And it was gross. She didn't even know why grown-ups did it.
Regina, they said her name was. That was a pretty name, at least. She was pretty, Emma thought, with her dark curls hanging over the shoulders of her pale blue frock. She watched her swing anxiously on the balls of her feet with her hands fiddling behind her back. She's probably just as embarrassed as you are. Stupid.

"Emma, sweetie, we have to go in for our meeting now," Emma jerked back to life, staring up into her mother's eyes. She was leaning down to look at her with a softness in her eyes like she was trying to make her feel better about it all. Well, she didn't need it. She was fine. "We'll come find you after, okay?"

"Hey squirt, why don't you show Regina your nursery?" Her dad suggested with his smile fixed in place. He ruffled her hair. "You got some pretty cool stuff in there."

Emma frowned. She knew what that meant! She was five whole years old, practically nearly six, and she wasn't stupid. They were trying to get rid of her. And she couldn't do anything about it. She sighed. It wasn't as if what they were doing was going to be much fun, anyway. And Regina couldn't be so bad. Besides, Emma liked making friends. She liked talking to people – she talked to everybody that came through the palace, or the town; grizzled freeriders and hunters dressed all in green, farmers and merchants dragging carts with their wares for the market, squires between practises in the training yard. The squires were the best: they were going to be knights someday. And knights were always honourable and chivalrous. Emma sighed, nodding resolutely. "Okay."

"Okay, squirt. We won't be too long."

Then they were gone, and she was left alone with this strange girl she shouldn't have kissed. For a long time, everything was quiet. Emma danced awkwardly on her tiptoes, trying to think of something to say, but Regina beat her to it. "Are we going to go to your nursery?" She asked, wide-eyed and unsmiling.

"No. Nurseries are for babies." Emma told her, and pulled a face. She didn't know why her parents insisted on keeping her nursery all set up for her. She was a big girl after all, now she finally had her own proper chambers with a grown-up bed and her own furs and everything. She tried to think of something they'd both like. Why did they always have to leave her to everything? It was exasperating. Emma finally looked over at her, sheepishly scuffing her toe along the floor. "Sorry I kissed you."

"That was okay." Regina shrugged her narrow shoulders, and then folded her arms, looking the opposite direction. "It just wasn't very nice of you to say it was yucky."

"I didn't mean it!" Emma cried, hurrying to amend herself. She suddenly felt more ashamed of her reaction than the actual kiss. "I was just embarrassed, I guess."

Regina turned to stare at her then, eyes wide and reproachful. Emma waited, wondering. A small, shy smile curled at the corners of Regina's mouth. "That's alright."

Emma couldn't help it – a grin fell back into place on her face and behind it too, in that special invisible place Mommy said her feelings were. The idea didn't take long to surface in her mind after that, flotsam on the black sea. She latched onto it. "Hey, you wanna see something cool?" Regina nodded eagerly. "We gotta go sit on the windowsill to see it, though.

"Okay." Regina agreed, with an uncertain smile.

"It's over here!" She sung, grabbing Regina's hand in her own to show her as she ran across the flagstones towards the window, pulling her along the wide grey flagstones behind her.

"You're going too fast!" Regina protested, giggling breathlessly as she struggled to keep up.

"You're just a slowpoke." Emma shrugged, skidding to a stop before the window. "But I don't mind." She smiled, looking over at her to see her response and finding only uncertainty. Regina was staring up at the ledge of the window sill with a nerves shining in her eyes, tiny fists balled in the fabric of her skirts. "I can help you up if you want. You just have to jump when I say." Regina nodded, reaching up to grab the ledge. Emma placed her hands on Regina's back. "Now." She watched in anticipation as Regina hauled herself onto the windowsill, and deftly clamoured up after her.

Emma settled back against the glass. This wasn't really so interesting to her. Emma preferred archery to art. Her favourite games were the ones she played with the boys and girls from the village, pretending duels with their wooden swords. She liked running and chasing, exploring the abandoned wings of the palace like the heroes in the stories, playing at monsters and knights. But she had a feeling this was something Regina would like. She looked sideways at the other princess. Regina was sitting rigidly on the edge of the stone sill, small fists fiercely gripping the edge so tight her knuckles were whitening. The window behind them was one of the stained ones, with the pictures, and the sunlight that streamed through shattered against it, remade in green and purple and blue. The colours washed over Regina's skin, dancing against her hair. It gave her an ethereal cast, angelic, almost. Like a fairy. (Not that Emma had met many fairies. That was all Mommy.) "Are you okay?"

Regina nodded. It took her a while to reply. "I just shouldn't get my dress messy." She paused. "I'll be in trouble."

"You won't, pinky swear." Emma vowed solemnly. "It's fine, see." Then she smiled, just to show Regina that it was all okay. That was what her mother did for her when she got sad. And it always, always helped. "You still wanna see the cool thing? Lean your heads back against the window, like this." Emma demonstrated, craning her neck against the glass. "And then look up there." She pointed in the right direction. Beside her, Regina gasped happily.

The ceiling of the hall was painted a hundred years ago, by a hundred artists. There was a book in the library with all their names in, but Emma never read it. She liked the scary stories, or the ones about knights going on quests. That didn't make the pictures any less beautiful, though; stars and leaves and fruit and angels spread out across the roof, carefully painted by a hundred brushes. Nestled amongst the drawings of horses and trees was Emma's favourite picture, the woman in the crown, eyes closed as if sleeping. From this position, this angle, with your head back right, the rainbow light from the window hit her in such a way that it looked just like she had a halo, some rainbow aura. "Wow," Regina breathed. "That is wonderful."

"Yep. Better than some nursery anyway." Emma swung her legs against the stone of the wall. Someday, she thought, my feet will touch the ground when I sit here.

"Why do you have a sword?" Regina asked suddenly, after a long awed silence.

Emma felt her spirits lift, grinning widely. "'Cause I'm gonna be a knight." Her hand came to rest on carved pommel of her sword, bouncing on the stone ledge. Why was it that saying things always made them seem more real? It was like the words were gods, to destroy and create. "And knights have to have swords so they can fight monsters."

"Oh. Okay." She might not have had the best judgement, but she swore Regina looked a tiny bit impressed. Regina frowned. "Can girls be knights?"

"Yeah!" Emma nodded vigorously. "My dad says I can be anything that I want. So I'm gonna be a knight and go on adventures."

"Oh." The light dropped from Regina's eyes as the smile fell away from her mouth. "Mother says I'm to be queen when I'm grown up." Her voice sounded very strained, and her small shoulders seemed to curl forwards with the weight of even the thought.

Emma frowned. She looked sad. "Don't you want to be?"

"I don't think I'd be very good at it." Regina confessed. "Mam – Mother doesn't make it sound very fun."

"Well..." Emma considered. "I'm my parents only child, which means I'm gonna have to be queen sometime too. But I'm gonna be a knight as well. I'm gonna make it fun." She tried a smile. Regina's eyes were a thousand different shades of brown, a spectrum of the earth. "You can make it fun too."

"Truly?" Regina stared. It was almost like she'd never thought of that before.

"Truly." Emma flashed a grin. "Hey, you wanna go see the grey tower with me? It's so high, you can see all the way to the sea."

That was the first time she saw Regina's smile light her up.

-0-

It took six months for them to see each other again. Six months can seem to drag on for an age, particularly when you're a child, but it never seemed that way to Regina. When they told her they were all going to the join the celebrations at the White Palace, the time she'd spent away from it vanished.

Regina had tried to stay still like a good girl the whole journey over the border (even though every rock and crevice in the road sent her jolting around the bench in the carriage) but it was hard when she was so excited. She watched the fields and the flowers fly past beyond the thick pale glass and tried not to bounce around in her seat. She was going to see Emma again. The whole country was celebrating the birth of Queen Snow White's first son, Prince Neal – apparently the queen had been pregnant when Regina met her. (That was confusing. She thought you were supposed to get fat when you were going to have a baby. It was like Mother always said, she really didn't know anything.) By the time they arrived in the outer courtyard of the White Palace, Regina was practically dancing, she was so excited. She was nervous, too – there was still a knot in her tummy tied up with doubts. But it didn't matter so much, because she was so happy, and her heart felt all sparkly with anticipation. She wasn't afraid anymore.

When the valet opened the door for them, Regina leapt to her feet, grasping Daddy's hand and clambering down the carriage steps after Mother, blinking in the sudden sunlight. All around them, the palace was buzzing with life and joy. Dozens and dozens of carriages were all lined up on the cobblestones, servants weaving between them carrying trunks and bolts of cloth. The air was crisp and clean with a heaviness that hinted at the coming summer. Regina stared around anxiously, searching.

"Regina dear, I thought we'd agreed no more of that wretched fidgeting," Mother sighed, adjusting her hair and stalking out across the yard. Regina tried not to look around, forcing her gaze back down to the ground. Daddy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, thumb rubbing across her knuckles, before he followed suit.

It didn't take long for Regina to spot the queen and her husband, standing at the top of the great marble steps before the doorway, greeting their guests. She craned to catch a glimpse, tummy fluttering. When they got closer, she could see the bundle of cloth in Snow White's arms. The baby prince, she thought. And beside them, fidgeting and scowling on the polished stone, was the princess. Her heart leapt. Emma. Regina couldn't help the grin that broke across her face. Emma hadn't noticed her yet. She tried a shy wave, small enough so Mother wouldn't notice. She swallowed, wrapping her fingers tighter around Daddy's. What if Emma forgot about her? Regina stopped waving. She hadn't thought of that before. Mother rarely let Regina leave the estate, the only other children she knew were the kitchen maids' babies but she wasn't allowed to speak to them. But Emma was the princess, and she must have dozens of other little girls to play with, Emma – Emma's face lit up.

Like there was some inner light that had been turned on. She saw her! Emma launched into action, scrambling to run down the stairs two at a time. The queen turned to say something to her but she had a fond smile on her face, and she couldn't really do anything with the baby prince her arms. In an instant, Emma was flying at her across the cobblestones.

Regina knew it was bad but she couldn't help it. She wormed free of Daddy's grasp, breaking away and running across the stones. She stumbled to a breathless stop in front of the princess; Emma did no such thing. She catapulted forewords, grabbing Regina in a bear hug. "P'incess Gina!" She cried, skinny arms wrapped tight around her middle like a vice. "You came back!"

"I came back," Regina giggled, into Emma's neck, trying to avoid getting a mouthful of hair. Emma finally released her, looking very pleased with herself. "I'm six now!"

"I'm gonna be six soon, too!" Emma announced, grinning widely. "And I lost another tooth, look!"

"Wow," Regina breathed. "I haven't lost any yet." She sighed, looking at Emma. She hadn't changed much in their time apart. But something was different. Her yellow hair was still long and loose and tangled around her familiar face; her eyes were still the colour of the sea and sparkling with excitement. She wore an different dress this time, but – then she realized. "You don't have your sword!" She exclaimed. "Are you still going to be a knight queen?"

"Of course I am!" Emma cried, indignant. "Just cause I have a baby brother now, I'm still eldest so I'm still gonna be queen, my parents said. And I'm still gonna be a knight so I'm still gonna fight monsters and stuff. Are you still gonna be queen, too?"

All of the excitement buzzing around her veins shrivelled up. "I think so," Regina sighed.

Then, as if she had sensed her misery and magnetized towards it, her mother fell upon them, snatching up Regina's wrist in her cold grasp. "We must be inside. Regina, dear, do stop bothering the princess."

And then Emma Swan did the bravest, best thing she could have done. She walked right up to Regina's mother, unafraid, with her wide grin still in place. "She wasn't bothering me, Miss." Her smile widened earnestly. "Regina's my friend."

Friend, Regina thought. The word stayed with her long after she was gone.