"Lets just say that one time when I was a lost princess, I saw you standing out on your balcony, sitting under your apple trees. I figured you liked them and when I realized they would get ruined from the summer I arranged for uh...Jack, here, to plant one in this little cove I knew of."
Regina was floored. She felt uneasy, like she was losing control of her carefully constructed exterior with every second that she stood there, gaping at the tree. Unable and unwilling to admit that the gesture could be nothing more than mere manipulation, she responded regally, "Well I suppose this way the castle isn't as dreary looking as it was, but I don't see how this little shrub," she spat out, "has anything to do with me."
With that she flattened her dress and turned back to return into the castle. Emma looked at the tree where a bird had landed on a branch. The small bird fluffed its chestnut feathers and stared back at Emma.
"I think she likes it." Emma said to the bird, a slight smile on her face. The bird cocked its head slightly and flew off. Emma watched the bird fly away and then began to walk back to the castle entrance. Maybe I'll put a bench underneath it tomorrow, she thought to herself optimistically.
A chambermaid had been assigned to her and showed her to the room she would be staying in for the next month or so. Her father and King Leopold were planning a large attack on a far kingdom, something about stealing gold and redrawing kingdom lines. She had been completely unwilling to be involved in any part of the trip until she found out that they would be staying at Leopold's castle.
As Emma bathed she remembered the first time she had seen Regina smile. It had been such a small smile, one that was both uplifting and heartbreaking at the same time. She remembered they way Regina's lips had twitched before relenting. It had been so long since her face had moved in a expression other than a frown that to remember how to smile seemed laborious. But it had been worth it, because when she finally did, Emma was captured by the splinter of light that emerged from the all encompassing sadness that hung over the woman like a thunderous rain cloud.
Emma pushed herself up from the bath as the lukewarm water sloshed around the sides of the porcelain tub. She vowed then and there that a smile would be her next goal. She would make Regina smile, something that was no small feat. An hour later she emerged from her room wearing a black dress and was escorted by her chambermaid to dinner.
"What is your name?" Emma asked the woman as they walked to the dining hall.
"My name is Belle." The woman said shyly. She was dressed in a plain linen dress, her hair pulled back into a bun.
"That's a very pretty name."
"Oh, thank you." By this time they had entered the dining hall and Emma broke off from the woman to sit next to her parents at the long mahogany table that was piled of food.
Belle smiled as she backed away to go tidy up the other rooms. 'That's a very pretty name'. It was the kindest thing someone had said to her in months. Such a breath of fresh air it was to have someone acknowledge her as a real person. She walked happily back down the hallway.
"Ah, Emma" Michael boomed, his rosy cheeks especially noticeable from the wine he and Leopold often indulged in while together.
"Hello father, how did strategizing go today?" Emma took her seat to the right of her mother, opposite her father.
"Great. Great! Yes we should have no problem reclaiming what land is ours. All will be well." He said joyfully as Leopold wholeheartedly nodded. The two began to jump right into war plans, shouting back and forth.
After a several minutes of this Regina waltzed into the dining hall. Still in her elegant blue dress, she was seated at the opposite end of the table as Leopold, who sat at the head. Regina's face was stoic, as usual, and she said nothing as Leopold invited them all to dig in to the mountain of food. The woman were expected to eat the salads and raw vegetables, nothing too heavy or detrimental to their figures. The butlers standing against the wall of the room came forward and put some salad on each of the women's plates while loading the Kings' plates up with rich meats smothered with sauces and gravies. After serving the table, they left the room.
Regina pushed the lettuce around on her fork, there was nothing more degrading than having the most delicious food in the entire kingdom at her disposal, yet not being allowed to eat it. She was sick of salad, but nonetheless choked down a few pieces. She looked over at Elizabeth who, of course, delicately ate her salad contently, wiping the corners of her mouth with every bite. It's lettuce, what could she possibly be getting on her face?
Emma on the other hand did not look even moderately pleased with the food that was placed in front of her. She turned the lettuce over a couple times before giving up on the limp leaves and scanning the table for something better to eat. Regina raised an eyebrow, now this was going to be intersting. She knew what happened when a women tried to eat the fatty foods provided for the men, a humiliating slap on the wrist and another pile of lettuce.
"Just as stupid as I expected" Regina muttered to herself. Emma had chosen her new meal, but instead of outrightly reaching for the butter roasted vegetables and braised chicken that she was eyeing she picked up the plate closest to her filled with some creamy rice dish and held it out to her father.
"Father, you must try this. It looks and smells irresistible. I know how well you enjoy such fine foods, and the rice in this land is but the best." Emma placed the plate into her father's now outreaching hands.
"You know me so well Emma. This looks perfect." He took the dish, scooped an overwhelming spoonful onto his plate. He then deposited the plate in front of himself. This caused the dishes littering the table to shift towards Emma. Mere inches away from her plate now sat none other than the roasted vegetable and chicken dish.
When no one, except Regina who had not been able to take her eyes off the whole interaction, was looking Emma slid some chicken and vegetables from the other plate to her own, hiding them under her large leafs of lettuce. She covered the majority of the food with her lettuce pieces but every once and awhile she pierced a roasted buttered vegetable or piece of chicken with her fork and quickly placed them in her mouth. She moaned quietly as she munched on the delicious food.
Regina's lips parted slightly and her jaw went slack. Emma had pulled off a feat that she had dedicated months attempting during her early days as Queen. While chewing on a piece of butter bathed zucchini Emma looked sideways at Regina who was now enviously glaring at her. The intense glare caused Emma to snort in an attempt to stifle a laugh. Elizabeth cast a stern glare at Emma, but she only shrugged it off. Regina returned back to her own plate of salad and did her best to look as if she was enjoying it.
"What's your favorite food?" Emma asked Regina in a hushed tone as she continued to secretly eat her chicken.
"Salad." Regina snapped, looking around to see if the others at the table were listening to this conversation but, as always, she appeared to be invisible.
"Wrong answer, try again. You're real favorite food this time." Emma said. Regina looked at Emma, she always felt like this woman was setting her up somehow.
"Salad." She said again.
"So if I accidently spilled some roasted duck on your plate, you wouldn't be too mad?" Regina scrunched her nose up slightly. She hated duck. She looked over to the plate of duck that sat near the middle of the table and her stomach clenched. Her gaze drifted to the plate next to it though, and her eyes zeroed in on the plate of salmon decorated in lemon and herbs. She looked at the dish longingly enough for Emma to take note of it.
"Well, you never said you liked things easy, did you?" Emma mumbled and took a depth breath. Her eyes flicked to each of the plates on the table, seemingly calculating something in her head. Regina tore her eyes away from the salmon. She looked at Emma who was fiercely concentrating on the food covering the table, her tongue slightly poking out the side of her mouth subconsciously. If Regina were her younger, more carefree self she would have found it endearing. In fact, she found it endearing now, but at least now she had enough self control to push the thought away.
Meanwhile, Emma had finished her grand plan. "Leopold this is the most impressive spread of food I have ever seen. I could not bear for you and my father not to try it all. Here, try this quail it looks amazing." She handed him a plate near her that was filled with pigeon pie. Leopold received the dish and looked down at it.
"But this is pigeon pie."
"Oh how foolish of me. Why don't you just put that next to you? Here is the quail." Leopold put the dish down next to him, pushing the plates one place down towards Regina. Emma picked up plate to the left of her, meanwhile pushing that row of plates farther away from her, and to Regina's right. "And father here is some corn chowder you cannot resist." Another set of plates shifted to the left. "And mother is this salad not delicious? I must have some more." Plates shifted like puzzle pieces. Left, forward, right, back.
"My daughter has such a passion for food" Michael boomed while digging into his plate. Emma grinned happily as she watched her mother grab the bowl of salad and give it to her. She placed some salad on her plate and squished the bowl into a placement to her left, successfully sliding the plate of salmon right in front of Regina's plate. Emma used the utensils sitting in the bowl to serve herself some lettuce. When returning the utensils back to the bowl for seconds, she pushed a piece of salmon onto Regina's plate and then plopped a bed of lettuce on top of it.
"Regina, really, you must try this salad." She said slyly and returned the utensils back to the bowl, this time left them there. She picked up her fork and resumed eating her pieces of chicken sneakily.
Regina, yet again, gaped. Through the whole fiasco of flying plates of food, Regina had sat there and gaped. The woman had caused a tornado of plate sharing so that she could have a piece of salmon. Why? It was the thing that was gnawing at her most. Why?
At first, she vowed to stay strong, to ignore the fish underneath her lettuce, but after a little while she justified that if the butlers found it sitting there at the end of the meal it could cause a scene as well. Besides, the fact of the matter was that the smell that was wafting up from the herb encrusted fish was close to making her drool, if that sort of thing was even remotely adequate for a queen.
The single most confusing part about what had just occurred though, was that Emma was not staring at Regina waiting for a 'thank you', or expecting a sexy smile that promised more as many of the Princes and Dukes would have wanted for a favor done in her honor. She was simply eating her own food, halfheartedly listening to the conversation going on about the fate of the kingdoms.
Regina picked up her fork and pushed it into the buttery texture of the fish, making sure to cover it with a piece of lettuce so it was hidden on its way to her mouth. Just as Emma did, she moaned as she fish touched her tongue. It was everything her salad was not, delectable, buttery, flavorful. Emma heard the moan, looked over slightly, and gave her a warm smile.
Encompassed by the warm and elated feeling that a simple piece of fish was giving her, Regina's eyes softened, the corners of her lips twitched. A smile threatened to spill out, but Regina quickly recovered, stilling her face. Emma mentally fist pumped, it wasn't a smile, but it was a start.
The next day, Regina woke up to shouting and yelling outside. She quickly dressed and made her way to her balcony. There, she saw an extensive amount of carriages being readied. A maid came up behind Regina to give her some tea.
"Why are the carriages being brought out?" She asked.
"King Leopold and King Michael are leaving to journey to the Southern Kingdom in preparation for the war." The maid replied.
The servants of the castle always knew everything. Since no one considered them real people, important conversations were often held in their presence without a second thought. Regina snarled. She was not even respected enough to be kept up to date. She was thankful for the several week reprieve of her awful husband, but he could have at least told her. Instead, she knew less than the simple maid. She turned from the balcony and re-entered the castle.
Slowly, she walked through the halls as she did almost every day, drifting into each room mindlessly. There was nothing to do in this damn castle. She turned down the west hall and made her way to a seemingly abandoned room at the end of the hall. The room had a wall covered in a vast expanse of window that faced the backfields of the castle. Outside, the hills and grass went on forever, stretching freely to the horizon. The sunlight streamed into the room making the walls take on a pale yellow shade.
In the center of the room sat a grand piano. Regina walked over to the piano, running her fingers along the smooth surface of the top. She gazed out at the free landscape wishing more than anything she could be a part of it. Join it in its vast emptiness.
To her, those fields were unspoiled freedom. Who was she kidding, any place but the great castle she lived in was considered freedom. She circled around the piano, continuing to outline the corners with her fingers. When she reached the bench, she sat down, and stretched her feet out to the pedal. Her fingertips gently caressed the ivory keys, reveling in the smooth and perfect texture.
She pressed down gently on one key, and then another, until she was performing soft scales up and down the piano. Once thoroughly warmed up, she began to play, still very softly, each finger pressing down as little as possible to create vibrating notes from the giant piano.
Her hands roamed left and right as notes seemed to flutter out of the instrument: melodious and sweet. She decorated the flowing melody with sharp staccatos and long lasting pauses. Thoroughly immersed by the music, she didn't realize that Emma had appeared in the doorway, her body leaning slightly against the door frame. Her head rest on the wall.
Emma listened to the flowy music that filled the entire room. She was amazed that such a tactful and prickly seeming woman could create such tender music. Regina was not playing one specific song, but instead would play a tune for a little, and then shift to something different spontaneously. Emma shifted her body a little to accommodate the leg that was receiving the brunt of her weight. The movement was caught out of Regina's peripherals. Her moving hands froze and her head snapped to look at Emma.
"What are you doing here?" She said icily. But Emma was not fooled, the music that the woman had just been playing spoke more about who she was than the tough exterior she presented to others.
"I was exploring the castle and I heard music. You play beautifully."
"You shouldn't' be here." Regina said harshly. After a moment she quietly added, "No one has ever heard me play before" as she looked down at her hands which remained frozen on the keys. She slid them off, reaching for the piano cover over the keys. Emma took a few brisk strides to reach Regina's side within seconds. She put her hand over Regina's on the cover and slowly pushed it back into its place, freeing the expanse of keys to the air above them.
Regina looked up at Emma when their hands touched, a shock running up her arm from the contact. She couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her that gently. Emma slid onto the wooden bench next to Regina, their hips softly brushing against one another. Regina continued to stare at Emma, unsure of what she was trying to do. Emma looked into Regina's deep brown eyes with her own emerald ones. She pushed her golden locks behind her shoulders.
"Play for me" She said. It was not a request, or a demand. She said it was as if Regina would be doing Emma a favor by showing her this. And Emma knew it was. It was something so precious, for Regina to show even a splinter of herself to anyone, that Emma did not intend to take it for granted. Out of some impulsivity, Regina did not push up her iron clad walls as she usually did. Instead, she yet again, brushed her fingers along the keys for mere seconds before pressing down. After a few moments, it was as if she had never stopped.
The music seemed to overwhelm her system and the second she was given the opportunity to release it onto the piano, she couldn't stop. The tune she played started out tender and soft, but there were points where the beat sped up, points where her fingers jumped quickly from key to key. While Regina continued to strum the keys, Emma lifted her hands and began to play next to Regina. She focused mainly on the lower notes of the piano since Regina's span was limited to the higher octaves. She played a relatively subtle tune, one that was accented by Regina's now sharp and jumpy playing. Regina's emotions flowed through her hands into the piano.
Regina had only meant to play her normally soft tunes, but suddenly all her anger, hopelessness and anxiety seemed to be jumping around inside of her, begging to be released. She pounded on the keys passionately, her face remained stoic.
They seemed to meld together seamlessly. How did she know exactly what her fingers decided to play next? Regina wondered. Every time she switched to a new pattern of notes, Emma's own fingers would blindly follow, compensating for the change immediately. Soon, tears were streaming slowly down Regina's face, each pound on the keys or chord played out causing a flash of a memory in her head. Sneaking kisses with Daniel behind the stables appeared as her fingers pressed on a B. Her mother whipping her with a magically whip, G. Daniel's heart being ripped out before her eyes, C flat. The night of her wedding with Leopold. F sharp. F sharp. F sharp. Snow White telling her mother about Daniel and ruining her life, her left hand balled into a fist, ready to pound.
Emma's right hand caught her balled fist in the air while her left hand continued to play. The melody was slow and relaxing, as it had remained the whole time. Emma did not look at Regina, but continued to fix her gaze down at her hands. She knew the scene that was unfolding would become too real to Regina if she looked up at her. Regina's fist stayed still in Emma's hand. Emma continued to hold it up until she felt the fingers of the clutched fist uncurl slowly. Regina turned to look at her hand which was still covered with Emma's slightly calloused one.
She watched as Emma slowly brought her hand back down to the piano and placed it on the keys. Emma's fingers began to put pressure on Regina's, guiding her fingers to press down on the ivory keys beneath them.
Slowly, Emma began to direct Regina to play a new rhythm. One neither fast, nor particularly slow. It seemed to flutter from note to note without pauses or breaks. It reminded Regina of the wind, drifting and flowing here and there. Satisfied that Regina had learned the rhythm, Emma returned her hand back to her own keys and continued to play.
They continued for a while until Emma's playing slightly tapered off, slowing continuously until she punctuated the last note, and lifted her hands off the piano. They both sat still for a brief time, eyes cast down. Emma was the first to look up at Regina, who had dry tear tracked cheeks and slightly red eyes. Regina returned the look, fully diving into Emma's eyes. How were they so green? Emma cleared her throat, which had become dry from lack of use.
"Like I said, you play beautifully." Emma said. Regina continued to look at this woman who had just inadvertently sat through her own breakdown of sorts without asking why, without demanding gratification for the nice thing she was doing, without making Regina feel belittled or embarrassed by the distressed emotional state she had shown.
"I don't understand" Regina said softly. She didn't know how this woman, whom she had only shown the rougher edges of her personality to, as she did with everyone else, could be so understanding. So different.
"What don't you understand?"
"How do you seem to know what I'm thinking when I'm acting the opposite way?" Regina felt utterly exposed, and was having difficulties remaining in character. It was easy when people immediately thought the worst of her and treated her disrespectfully. But she was at a lost at what to do with someone who looked beyond all she had created and into the vulnerable self that she so desperately want to break out.
"It's your eyes," Emma said after weighing it back and forth in her head.
"My eyes?"
"Your mouth projects the intimidating persona you want people to see, but your eyes are…sad." Regina's lips turned downward.
"My eyes are sad? How very rude of you to say." Regina barked. Emma was breaking through too many barriers at once. Emma only responded to the snap with a tilt of her head and a knowing smirk. This illicit a frustrated growl from Regina.
"You forget. I always know what you're thinking. Even when you're acting the opposite way. So, Regina. I know you're racking your brain for ways I could be manipulating you, using you, attempting to seduce you," the moment 'seduce' had left Emma's pink lips goose bumps littered Regina's arms. Regina ignored the prickly and surprisingly pleasant sensation, "but I promise I'm not. While everyone else in this kingdom may be clueless and completely idiotic, I'm different. And when you're willing to let a friend in. Or even just someone who could maybe make this whole life you're living a little more enjoyable, let me know. Because I will happily be that for you." Emma finished, stood up, and exited the room whose rays had shifted downward with the setting sun.
The minute that Emma had left the room Regina's brain launched a full fledge attack between the two conflicting ideas: to remain alone, or to let someone in and risk getting burned yet again.
She didn't even know if she had the humanity left within her to maintain a friend. Not to mention a lover. What? lover? Regina shook her head. What in the world was she thinking? Emma didn't want to be her lover. No one wanted to be her lover. How could they? She was broken, shattered, obliterated, in complete and irreversible pieces. The only one who had loved her had died, because of her. No, she couldn't love again. But maybe Emma could relieve some of her boredom that plagued her days.
She pushed away from the piano and concreted her conclusion. She would humor Emma, allow her to entertain her the way a jester or the theater would, then she would go on her way back to her own kingdom and everything would resume back to normal. The only problem was, that Regina's worst fear, the absolute worst outcome of the whole situation, was that her life would resume back to normal.
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