Triumphant
adj.
having achieved victory or success; victorious; successful.
exulting over victory; rejoicing over success; exultant.
Roman History: from Triumph, the ceremonial entrance into Rome of a victorious commander with his army, spoils of war, and captives authorized by the senate in honor of an important military victory.
Emma was grinning widely and, she knew, somewhat stupidly. She couldn't help it. Faced with the prospect of burgers and cokes and showers, who wouldn't be? No more sleeping on the ground; she would have her old bed back. Her clothes, even her precious jacket, were probably ruined now, but she was home, and thanks to the brilliance of American consumerism could just buy a new one without worrying whether the cow was about to burst into anthropomorphic song.
Yeah, Emma Swan was feeling pretty damn good.
And hungry. Hmm.
She called over to Henry, cheeks starting to hurt when Regina releases him to her care. Apparently the other woman saved them somehow, and though that's a story she really, really wants to hear, she's content with the uneven truce that seems to have held while she was away.
She's said "Thank you" about twenty different times at this point, and because she doesn't want to look like a complete idiot in front of Regina she silently promises to have Henry home for bed not a millisecond late. Maybe then they can talk, just the two of them, and figure out what all of…this…means. Now is not the time. It's too much, somehow, with parents and friends, and the spreading secret part of her that wants Regina all to herself. Later. Later.
For now she strides down Main Street with a rare confidence, alive and exuberant. There are ties, with people and places, and while once upon a time this would have scared her, she allows herself to daydream about the future. Dinners with her parents - parents - and birthdays (what kind of cake does Henry like?) and holidays (she'll have to ask Regina about their Christmas plans, although she's already planning on buying him a Red Rider BB gun). She can't wait. Because if she's right, if something has changed between Regina and Henry, who knows what the future holds for them? A - she hesitates at family, because even in dreams it's too soon - but something. Something special. More than she's ever had, more than she's ever expected. Maybe she'll even get Regina a present this year, a peace offering of her own. 'Tis the season, after all, and high on magic and love Emma feels magnanimous.
She feels connected, with Mary Margaret and David and Ruby. With Henry. With Regina. This is her land, her fairy tale, and the possibilities are endless.
XxXx
When Gold leaves, Regina falls gracelessly, her body contorting into irregular shapes punctuated by elbows and knees. The Evil Queen would have lashed out in fire and rage, but Regina is not that woman any more; she does not have her strength. So she curls like a pillbug on the dirty floor, bringing the pain and the magic in, in, condensing it by sheer force of will until it is no more than a cold lump in her throat, large enough to choke but not to kill.
She is alone, and the lights and sounds of the diner seem worlds away.