Chapter Two

The two women could hear the chaos coming from the courtyard long before they reached its tall wooden gates. Emma glanced at Regina, but didn't relax even when she noticed that she didn't seem particularly concerned.

'When I froze them,' she explained without looking round, 'they would have seen a kind of smoke coming towards them.'

'Like the one that Mr Gold brought to Storybrooke?' Emma asked.

'Similar.' Regina wrinkled her nose as the shouting from the other side of the gate gradually grew louder. 'They don't know that they've missed twenty-eight years. I imagine that they're just confused as to what the smoke was, and where it's gone.'

'Also the weather's probably a bit different,' Emma suggested. Regina ignored her.

'Well then,' she sighed, releasing the book from her grip and slowly offering it to her companion. 'Would you mind holding this for me, Miss Swan?'

Emma nervously took hold of the book, pressing it hard against her chest as she watched Regina turn back towards the gate with her lips set in a tight line. Raising both of her hands to the sides of her head, the air around the queen seemed to grow still for a moment. She then calmly pushed them forwards, and the two enormous wooden doors slowly began to swing back on their hinges, revealing to them both the home that Regina had left behind almost thirty years ago.

The courtyard was swarming with men dressed in heavy armour, almost all of them with helmets covering their faces. They gathered in groups, pointing up to the sky or shrugging their shoulders in confusion. Each voice was louder than the last. After a few moments however they began to notice that the gate was opening and they fell into silence as they watched their queen re-entering her palace, her strides long and confident, a blonde woman confusedly tottering along behind her.

'…your majesty?' One guard stepped forwards to meet her. Even from beneath his helmet Emma could hear his confusion. She let her eyes scan across the woman who was stood before her, taking in her loose hair and 21st-century clothing, and inwardly kicked herself for not suggesting that Regina change into something more era-appropriate before they crossed the threshold of a square filled with men carrying swords and crossbows. Regina, however, seemed quite unperturbed.

'I'm sorry, Michael, do we not bow to our queen anymore?' was her response. She stood boldly upright, her hands thrust deep into the pockets of her coat, and even without her usual trailing dresses or threats of magic and violence her men could sense the power radiating from her. They slowly began to bow down.

'Good. Now, what is all the commotion about?' she turned back to Michael, whom Emma could only assume was her captain of the guard. He paused for a moment before gesturing towards the rest of the men that stood behind him.

'Something happened.' He paused. 'There was smoke. A haze. No one knows where it came from or where it went, but suddenly things feel… different.'

Through the slits of his helmet Emma could see his eyes pinning down his queen's choice of outfit, the slight softness in her face, her unusual choice of companion. Regina waited for him to continue, but when the silence only stretched on she chuckled out loud.

'Fog?' she asked. 'You're all working yourselves up into a frenzy and not doing your jobs because of some fog?'

There was a long pause before someone near the back of the crowd spoke up. 'It was purple.'

'You are my guards,' the sudden boom of her voice made everyone, including Emma, jump back a step. Regina began to move towards her soldiers, removing her hands from her pockets and swishing her coat behind her with the flourish of a cape. Suddenly every man was stood bolt upright, the glints of their eyes watching her attentively. 'I don't care if it was purple or if it rained down acid onto all of you – you will do your jobs and you will protect this castle. Do I make myself clear?'

A murmured response followed her words. 'Yes, your majesty.'

She continued to pace up and down the line of men for a few moments, her eyes focused on each of them individually as she passed by. Eventually she resumed speaking. 'As it is, however: there have been some changes. Some changes that you might have missed.' Another pause. 'The specifics are not important right now. What you do need to know, however, is that certain threats that once plagued our land are no longer an issue. Snow White, for example. You do not need to worry about her any longer.

'Nevertheless, this does not mean that we are safe. There are many other issues that have arisen and require our immediate attention. Tomorrow morning I will speak with Michael and he can relay this back to you. But for now…' she trailed off for a moment, and then slowly began to turn around in order to look at Emma. One of her dark eyebrows was sharply raised. The blonde froze, clutching the book more tightly to her body. The pair simply looked at one another, Emma's heartbeat pounding in her ears as she waited for the command for Snow White's daughter to be locked away, or shot down, or simply kicked out into the forest to die.

'For now, all you must know if that this woman here is my guest, and that we will be dining in an hour. Please inform the house staff while I show her to her room.'

'Yes, your majesty,' came the immediate reply, and suddenly there was movement all around. Regina stood completely still in the centre of the courtyard surveying her soldiers as they went back to work, many of them returning to their guard posts and re-lighting the torches that had been extinguished by the smoke. Inside the castle rooms were already lighting up as servants hurried to prepare for the arrival of their queen and her company. No doubt when the queen had last left, she had told them not to expect her back for some time: and now, after what to them must have been barely half a day, she had returned bearing demands and confusion and inexplicable good news.

'Come, Miss Swan,' Emma snapped out of her reverie as she realised that Regina was turning to look at her once more. 'I expect you'll want to change before dinner.'

Emma followed her into the castle without a word. As she passed by a group of soldiers, she felt their curious gaze following her.

'I still don't understand,' she heard one of them mutter.

'Neither do I,' replied another. 'But at least she didn't crush anyone's throat this time.'

Emma stood in the doorway to her room for a moment before letting herself walk inside. Part of her had still been expecting to be taken down to the dungeons, Regina pushing her into a cell with a mad cackle and locking it behind her before she went off on her quest to find Henry alone. And yet somehow she instead found herself stood in a vast room made of grey stone, furnished with soft red and gold fabrics and a bed that was larger than her entire prison cell when she had been in juvie. Still clutching the book to her chest, she moved to the centre of the room and turned in a circle as she took in the bizarre, majestic place where she would apparently be living for the foreseeable future. Behind her Regina watched from the doorway, raising her eyebrows at her dumbfounded expression.

'Is it to your liking?' she eventually asked, making Emma jump.

'Yes,' she replied, putting the book down on the bed and shrugging off her dusty jacket. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.' Regina's eyes were on the book. 'My chambers are on the other side of the castle. If you need anything, use that bell there to call a servant and they will attend to you.' She paused, struggling to leave without Henry's book in her arms. 'Someone will collect you for dinner in about an hour.'

'Thank you,' Emma repeated, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking vacantly out of the window. She made no move to get changed. Regina sighed.

'And there's a bathroom through there,' she said quietly, nodding towards the door at the far corner of the room. 'You will find that plumbing is… well, slightly less refined here. Would you like me to call someone to run you a bath?'

Emma looked up and blinked. 'What?'

She hadn't even been listening. Regina rolled her eyes and took a step backwards from the room. 'I'll call a servant.' As she went to leave, she saw that Emma's eyes had fallen back to the book that was sat beside her. 'And you can keep that. For now. You may want to reacquaint yourself with how this land works, Miss Swan. I'll see you in an hour.'

She shut the heavy door behind her with a thud before making her way down the corridor towards her own rooms. Her feet led the way, her heels tapping along the stone without her needing to think about it. It had been twenty-eight years, but they still knew exactly where they were going.

Emma remained perched on the edge of the bed, listening to the footsteps as they disappeared down the hallway. She had imagined that sound would carry loudly down the stone corridors of the queen's castle, and yet Emma could only hear Regina for a few moments before the whole palace seemed to fall silent. She immediately began to worry, wondering if maybe this was a trap after all and if she opened the door to her room she would find that she wasn't in the castle at all, but aimlessly stuck in some other unknown world. Biting her lip she pushed herself up off of the bed, creeping over to the door and pressing her ear against the thick wood in an attempt to hear the servants down in the kitchens preparing dinner, or Regina's commanding tones stretching across from the eastern side of the castle. But she heard nothing. Sucking in a breath between her teeth, she grabbed hold of the large bronze doorknob and heaved the door towards her, peering out into the corridor. She found herself meeting the startled expression of a middle-aged woman with a maid's uniform on, her cracked fist raised as she went to knock on the door before her.

'Jesus,' Emma jumped in shock, knocking her temple against the wooden frame in the process. The servant blinked several times and watched as she frantically rubbed the palm of her hand against the bruised skin. 'Shit. Owh.'

'Miss Swan, I'm so sorry!' the woman before her looked horrified at what her mere presence had done to what was possibly the first guest that the queen had ever had. Emma opened her eyes, previously scrunched up in pain, and frowned when she saw that the servant's own eyes were slowly filling with tears. 'Please, let me take a look at that. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—'

'It's okay,' Emma quickly interrupted before she started actually sobbing. 'It's, um, just a bump. I'll survive.'

The woman still didn't make a move, either to come into the room or to attempt to regain her composure. Emma stepped back from the door so as to open it fully, her left hand still pressed to the side of her face.

'Can I help you with something?'

'I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Swan,' the woman replied shakily. 'But the queen said that you required help running a bath.'

'She did?' Emma glanced round at the door to the bathroom in the corner. 'She didn't need to do that. It's a bath – I'm pretty sure I've got it.'

It was then that she noticed the two buckets of steaming water sat on the floor either side of the woman's feet. Emma's face fell. 'Oh.'

'May I come in?' the servant tentatively asked. Emma nodded silently, stepping to the side so that she could get past. The woman then curtseyed, causing Emma to nearly fall back into the doorframe for the second time that evening, before bending down to pick up both of the brimming buckets.

'Let me help you,' Emma quickly said, reaching for the closest one. The maid jumped in surprise and immediately tried to pull it back from her.

'It's alright, Miss Swan, I don't need any help.'

'That's crazy, they're way too full. Here, I've got it.'

The woman's eyes opened wide as Emma prised the bucket from her hand, nearly staggering under the weight of it herself. Silently, the woman led her guest to the bathroom, its walls already lighted with a dozen candles.

The pair of them poured the water into the ceramic tub that stood in the centre of the room in one simultaneous movement before Emma handed the empty bucket back to the maid.

'I'll be right back with the next load, Miss Swan,' she said, curtseying again and quickly shuffling out of the room before Emma could reply.

'It's Emma,' she called after her after a few moments. The woman was gone though, and Emma's voice bounded off of the stone walls unheard.

After four more trips the enormous bathtub was finally full, its steaming contents enveloping the room in a dense fog that smelt faintly of vanilla. The maid put down the final bucket by the foot of the bath, pushing her greying hair out of her eyes as she attempted to catch her breath before swiftly collecting them back up again. Emma watched her from the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. The woman turned around and, seeing the slight frown on her face, nearly dropped both of the buckets in horror.

'I'm so sorry, Miss Swan,' she stammered, taking a step forwards. 'I'll help you get undressed now.'

'Beg your pardon?' Emma said in a low voice, crossing her arms even more firmly as the woman reached out her hands towards her.

'I…' her arms dropped back to her sides. 'You don't require my help?'

'I think I'm probably good,' Emma replied. 'I was just wondering where everything is. You know, soap and towels and stuff.'

'Oh,' the woman breathed a sigh of relief, gesturing for Emma to follow her to the back of the foggy room. Pressing her hand firmly against what appeared to be a wooden panel on the stone wall, a cupboard door sprang open. Inside were more bottles and bars than Emma had possibly owned in her entire life.

'Everything you'll need is in here, Miss Swan.'

'It's Emma,' she said for the third time that evening. 'And thanks. How long do I have before dinner?'

'Just over half an hour, Miss Swan,' the woman replied. 'I will bring some clothes up for you while you are in the bath, and then someone shall come and collect you when dinner is being served.'

'Thanks,' Emma repeated. Then, just as the woman turned to leave, she called her back. 'What's your name?'

The woman blinked in surprise. 'My name?'

'Yeah. I assume I'll be seeing you again?'

'Yes, you will,' the woman said slowly, obviously curious, as if this reason wasn't a valid one. Nonetheless, she quietly answered, 'It's Maria, Miss Swan.'

'And it's Emma, Maria. Nice to meet you.'

Maria nodded slightly, curtseyed again, and then finally left the room, closing the heavy door behind her. Emma quickly unzipped her jeans, pulling them off and flinging them onto the bed, her white tank top swiftly following it. It was only then, as she stood in the centre of her silent bedroom with only her black underwear and socks on, that she suddenly registered the other thing that Maria had said to her.

'Wait. Bring what clothes up for me?'

It was strange to look into her mirror and see only one face reflected back at her. Regina reached out a hand and pressed it gently against the glass, waiting for Sidney's face to materialise and tell her that he, at least,was pleased to have her back in the castle so soon. But the glass remained cold, and all she could see was her own dark features looking back at her. She frowned, and abruptly turned away. The room before her was exactly as she had remembered it, but she knew now that what she had said to Emma earlier that evening was truer than she had realised: it no longer suited her.

Stepping into the marble bathroom, she waved a hand vaguely over the bathtub and watched as it slowly began to fill up with smoky, fragrant water. A weak smile appeared on her lips. Letting the water level rise, she turned away and began to pull her dusty clothes off. She left them draped across her bed, wondering whether the servant who came to collect them would bother to have them cleaned or whether they'd be promptly burned and never mentioned again. Inwardly, she laughed. Outwardly she released a sigh, turning around just in time to see that the bathtub was overflowing.

'Shit,' she muttered to herself, waving a hand over the pearly water until the invisible flow subsided. Clearly she wasn't quite used to having free reign of magic again – losing control of something as rudimentary as water was not something that she had encountered in recent years. She held her hand back out again, her palm facing downwards, and slowly lowered it until the water level was several inches below the rim of the marble bathtub. It stayed there, and her shaking hand returned to her side. After only a few seconds the door behind her was closed and she was letting her wearied body sink below the translucent tide, closing her eyes as the water lapped over her face. The water crept into her ears and, just for a few moments, this entirely unfamiliar world was blocked out of her head once more.

When she returned to her bedroom the candles had been lit, and her clothes from Storybrooke were gone. Wrapped in a thick robe, made from some material that she could no longer remember the name of, Regina padded over to the full wall that concealed her queen's wardrobe and waved the doors open. Selecting one of the plainer items she owned; a floor-length dress made of velvet that was such a deep purple it could easily pass as black in the dim light of her chambers, she dropped the robe from about her body and began to go about getting dressed.

The empty mirror reminded her that her hair was shorter now. For a moment she considered lengthening it, for the purpose of practicing simple magic more than anything else, but decided against it. She had made a promise once, regarding magic – now was no time to fall back into old habits. Instead she summoned the servant who was stood outside the room and sat back as she neatly arranged her hair and make up for her. The whole while Regina stared blankly at her own face in the mirror, watching as it transformed into the dark shadow of a woman whom she didn't realise still existed quite so concretely. Her eyes seemed to jar against the rest of her face: all of her features were too bold, too violent, each of them aggressive paint strokes on the blank canvas of her skin. Still the servant brushed on more colour for what seemed like an eternity, until her queen wearily raised a hand and gestured for her to leave.

'Dinner will be ready in five minutes, your majesty,' the girl said in a low voice, curtseying before she left the room. Regina was left with her head resting gently on her hand, her dark eyes unblinkingly watching as the weight of her queen's disguise dragged her face into a sad, crushing frown.