Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time, Storybrooke and any recognizable characters are property of ABC Studios and the Walt Disney Co. No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: Thank you so much for those of you who have taken your time to review. As a reader of fanfic myself, I usually just upload them into my phone to read them whenever and don't really have the chance to leave reviews as often as I'd like, so for those of you who just follow it and don't have the time or don't feel like reviewing, I just hope you are enjoying the story as well! =) I am sorry this is coming out a bit later than usual, but I've had an eventful week and didn't get around to revising this chapter until today.

Also, I would just like to reply to a review I got and couldn't reply as it was a guest review. It mentioned that Emma, having grown up the way she has, should be more interested in learning how to ride horses or any skills of this world. I agree to a certain point. But my line of thinking in making Emma somewhat rebelious in regards to that comes mostly from the little time she spent in the Enchanted Forest on the show, and her reluctance to go back and live there. Also, I know I never put a time frame on this story, but hopefully it is clear from the way she still can't call Snow White "mom" and the way she is still struggling to accept this new reality, that the curse hasn't been broken for too long. So, for me, the fact that her mind is, in a way, still pretty much in Storybrooke, is reflected by these things she refuses to learn, and even a bit of denial of her situation. In my mind, it is the way she found to maintain her sanity. Starting to take interest and learning things would make everything much more real, and Emma is still not ready for that! I hope that explains a bit about the way she's acting. Oh well, enough rambling, and onto the story because I must've added about 1,000 more characters with this note alone!

Chapter 3 - Cora's Daughter

"Can I ask you something?" Emma watched Regina carefully as the older woman sat by her bed and ate a fresh piece of bread the blonde had just smuggled from the kitchen.

Regina chewed a few more times, then swallowed and finally looked at her companion. "It seems like it's all you do since we started meeting like this." Emma could detect a hint of amusement on her tone, and she was still a little defensive, but nothing like she was a few weeks ago.

She ignored the reply and went straight to her question, sounding a bit quieter than usual. "How long do you think they will keep you locked up?"

This time, the former Queen did not try to hide her surprise at the question. Creasing her eyebrows, she studied the woman in front of her, who now seemed terribly interested in her own hands.

There was silence, and then a sigh. "I mean, they have to let you go eventually, right?" Emma tried once more.

"These things work a little bit differently around here, dear," Regina got up, unsure if she wanted to get closer to the blonde, or turn her back to avoid her gaze. She decided on the former. "And considering the things I did… well, let's just say over here we hang people for far less than that."

She did not miss the way Emma cringed at the last part. "They wouldn't, though… would they?"

A huge sigh of relief escaped the blonde's lips as Regina shook her head. "No. Not your mother. Not with Henry living here too."

Emma nodded, but remained quiet.

"Is everything ok?" Regina's voice was soft and even a bit concerned as she asked the question.

The blonde swallowed hard, trying to hide the fact that her eyes got watery for a moment, and it wasn't until she was sure she had recomposed herself that she dared to look up again. "Yeah. Yeah, it's all good," she did try to sound as cheerful as everyone else on that place, but failed so badly that the Evil Queen herself chuckled, almost feeling bad for the woman. "I just don't want you to stay here forever, that's all."

A breath caught in Regina's throat at how honest the unexpected words sounded. "And why is that?" she asked, and immediately realized that she cared more about the answer than she would like to admit.

"Because you're the only one who gets what it's like to feel out of place in the land that was supposed to be your home," the words came out quickly, almost as if she would lose the nerve to say them if she waited too much. They never broke eye contact, "And it kind of sucks that we have to spend our days in these creepy ass dungeons," she added with a grin, trying to ease the sudden tension that had formed. "I know, I know," she added, mimicking Regina when she spoke the next word, "Language."

The brunette gave an amused chuckle, glad for the sudden change in the mood of the conversation. Still, she couldn't quite grasp what Emma had just said. "You don't have to spend any time here, Miss Swan. I'm sure everyone up there misses you terribly," despite the sting of her words, the blonde did not miss a little bit of hurt in them, too.

"And I am sure these great conversations we have would feel even nicer at the gardens, by the sunlight," she smiled, once again ignoring Regina's bait. "I know you're all about darkness, but some light would do you good, you know?"

"I don't think I'm ready for the light just yet," she continued quietly, "Other people might get burned."

"What, are you scared of being out there?" Emma asked immediately.

Regina shrugged, moving to once again sit by her bed. "Like I said before, I don't want Henry witnessing his mother hurting people. Ever."

"We could keep an eye on you, you know?" Emma leaned her forehead against the bars, resting her head there, "Henry and I. We could be your very own royal guard," she said with a small smile, and Regina laughed earnestly. "Yeah, you laugh now. You haven't seen Henry with a sword, he's getting pretty good at it. And you said it yourself, being the Sheriff and being a knight aren't all that different."

"As much as I would love nothing more than to have you, of all people, following me around all the time for the rest of my life, dear," there was more than a hint of sarcasm there, but Emma recognized the tone now as more of amusement than actual annoyance, "I don't think your parents would ever agree to something like that."

"Well," Emma started, and then looked at Regina while biting her lower lip, "You do get my company all the time while you're here anyway, I doubt you would be too annoyed at having it outside. It would be the same, only with more room for you to run away from me," she grinned, purposefully ignoring the part about her parents.

"It does sound tempting," the brunette smiled back. "How are the gardens, anyway?" she surprised Emma and herself by asking the question. When she was younger, right after marrying the king, Regina had always liked walking around the gardens, away from her mother, from Rumplestiltskin, from everyone. Those were the only moments she felt like herself. Snow actually joined her quite a few times, and she was a little taken aback by the warmth that came with the memory of a time before she let herself be consumed by hate and vengeance.

"Snow takes care of it herself," the other woman replied, somewhat carefully, "she said she has some good memories from that place." And that was as far as she was willing to go. She wouldn't tell Regina that she somehow knew that Snow was referring to her when she mentioned such memories, and the person who would walk through the gardens and talk to her when everyone else seemed too busy to do it. The Queen, of course, had never even mentioned Regina's name. But Emma's sixth sense, much like Henry's, seemed to have been calibrated in this world, and worked almost without missing anything. That had somehow made it easier for Emma to know what to say whenever she came to see Regina, when to push and what to ignore. Noticing the woman's face relax visibly, she went on, "I'll take some pictures and show them to you later."

"Thanks," the word still seemed foreign coming from her lips, but it was nice to say it nonetheless, "I'd like that."

The brunette was asleep when she got there. It looked nothing like the last time Emma had seen Regina sleeping, though. She seemed calm and peaceful, and, as her eyes slowly started to open – probably awakened by the smell of the fresh coffee – Emma could tell she had slept quite well.

"You're turning me into a morning person, you know?" she said the words with a smile, unsure if she considered it to be a good or a bad thing.

Regina was still in the process of getting up, but she chuckled at the words, before following the smell of coffee and taking the mug from her visitor's hands. "I am glad I'm being such a good influence on you."

Emma did not reply. Instead, she studied the woman carefully. "I'm hoping maybe it's a mutual thing?" her voice was unsure, and, seeing the woman's confused expression, she continued, "Just now, you seemed to be sleeping… I don't know, peacefully."

The older woman considered this for a moment, and looked at Emma in thought. She knew the woman had heard something the first time she had been to the dungeons. She hadn't even noticed, but now that the blonde mentioned it, it was true. "The nightmares are gone," she spoke, more surprised than Emma by the realization.

"You look more rested, too," she added.

Regina nodded. She did not have a mirror anywhere near, but she would take Emma's word for it. She did feel better, after all.

"Or maybe you were just going through a really bad coffee withdrawal," she continued, pointing at Regina's mug and grinning, "And I fixed it."

The smile on Regina's lips was so true and held so much affection that Emma was sure she was having hallucinations. "You definitely did."

"So…" she got a little closer, "Is this your way of telling me you like my company?"

"I wouldn't go that far," the brunette spoke immediately, but the playful smirk on her face did little to make the sentence believable, "Let's just say your company is easier to tolerate now."

"Yeah," Emma grinned again, "Let's just say that." And then she took another sip of her coffee.

They both stood there, in companionable silence. Emma had taken a seat in front of the bars so that her left side leaned on them, her legs folded against her chest. Her hand brushed distractively through the cold metal when, inside the cell, Regina sat on the floor too, her position very similar to the blonde's, except that she had her arms wrapped around her legs.

Emma observed the woman. Everything about the image she saw seemed a bit out of character for the Regina she knew. Not just her position, or the fact that they were sitting side by side like this, but there was something else. Something she couldn't point out quite yet.

"My mother… I left her in this world, when I cast the curse," Regina spoke quietly, not able to express exactly what she did to Cora before enacting the curse, Emma remained in silence, still shocked that the woman was opening up this way without her even asking the question. "That's what the nightmares were about," she finally admitted.

"Is she… someone we should be worried about?"

The brunette closed her eyes and chuckled, before nodding quietly. "Trust me, dear, if you think dealing with the Evil Queen is bad, just try and imagine where she came from."

"I don't," Emma said immediately, "I don't think you're bad, I mean."

"I appreciate the sentiment," when Regina spoke this time, it didn't seem condescending or fake as it once did, "It's just… my mother's not a pleasant person."

"Did she ever hurt you?" Emma blurted out the question, without even thinking about it. If Regina was willing to share, she was more than willing to listen. She had never really thought about Regina's family, where she'd come from and what made her the way she was. She did know bits and pieces about Rumple, and the things Snow had told her about Daniel, but other than that, she found she didn't know anything about the woman's past.

Regina did not know why, but the blunt question did not bother her as much as it usually did whenever someone tried to get too close. "Yes." Her voice broke at the word. That was all Emma would get, and yet she knew it was more than enough. She risked a glance at the woman, only to see her looking straight ahead, one single tear falling from her face.

"She's not getting anywhere near Henry," the blonde spoke with a certainty she could not possibly possess, and her confidence grew ever more when she added, "Or you."

Regina's face turned to look at Emma, and she nodded with a sad smile. For some reason, she could not bring herself to tell the blonde the whole story. Not only because she could not admit to have been responsible for one more death, but also because she had an unsettling feeling – no, it was more than that, I was the knowledge – that her mother was still very much alive. She did not know how she knew it, but ever since she had gotten to that castle, it was as if she could feel it.

"Hey," the blonde pushed, her eyes never turning away, "I mean that. She'd have to go through me. And I'm stronger than I look."

This time, the former Queen's smile was more genuine. "Why would you do that?" she asked, and, as she waited for an answer, realized how much it mattered to her.

"I don't know," Emma answered truthfully, "I just know that I would."

When she saw another tear leave the brunette's eye, she did not move for a moment. And then, hesitantly, her hand slid through the bars and she left it there, palm facing up. She did not have to wait long until Regina's hand found hers, both women looking from their joined hands to each other. Emma gave the woman's hand a light squeeze, and brushed it softly with her thumb in what she hoped was a soothing motion.

"I'm sorry," her voice was quiet, her eyes once again focused on their hands.

"It's hardly your fault that my mother is the way she is, Emma."

"No, I didn't mean that," Emma did not stop the movement of her hand, but she did break eye contact for a moment, "I'm sorry you were alone here for so long, with the nightmares."

Regina sighed, and the blonde thought for a moment that she had pushed too far and the woman would retreat again. But she just squeezed Emma's hand a little bit harder. "It's ok. They're gone now." Her voice was still charged with emotion.

"Did I…" there was a trace of vulnerability on Emma's words, even on her expression as she finished the question, "Did I help? Do you feel safe?"

"Sometimes I am not sure I will ever feel completely safe again. And yes." She did not have to elaborate on the last one, and if Emma's smile was anything to go by, she understood.

The moment was interrupted by a loud growl of the blonde's stomach, with caused a small laugh to come from Regina. "It's probably around noon right now. They must be waiting for you, for the royal feast."

Emma stopped and seemed to be deep in thought for a while. Still holding Regina's, she brought their hands up and pointed her finger at her, "You, don't go anywhere." The brunette rolled her eyes at the horrible choice of words and then smiled at the grin she saw. "I'll be back in five minutes."

Slowly, she retrieved her hand and, with one final look at the woman, walked away.

She had promised to be back in five minutes, and yet, Regina was sure she couldn't have taken more than three. Although how Emma managed to smuggle half of the lunch into the dungeons in such a short time she wasn't completely sure.

"Your royal feast, Your Majesty," she laid a red tablecloth right in front of the bars, and then turned to open the bag she was carrying so that she could take an entire roasted duck, some ham, salad – this was Regina, after all –, a small bottle of wine and two glasses, and, lastly, two silver plates with the respective cutlery, each item individually but messily wrapped in whatever cloth or towel that could be found in the kitchen. "I thought you might be missing a real meal."

Not sure what she wanted to say, Regina simply nodded, taking her plate and, a little bit awkwardly but still efficiently enough, helped herself through the bars and started eating. Emma poured the glasses of wine and handed her one. It was red and rich, but not too much, and it went just perfect with the duck.

"What did everyone have to say about that? Someone must have seen you stealing all the food in the kitchen."

"I just told David that I wasn't feeling too well and I would grab something to eat in the kitchen and go to my room. He didn't suspect a thing. Luckily it was him and not Snow," she grinned, fully aware that her father, bless him, was not the sharpest tool in the shed.

The little jab at the king did not fail to amuse Regina, who nodded approvingly with a big smile.

Lunch went smoothly, the two women talking about everything and nothing, and once they were both finished, Emma started placing things back into her bag. "Shall I get us some dessert?"

"Oh, I do hope you're not serious," the grin on Emma's face was enough of an answer. Plus the fact that the blonde did not seem to be making any effort to get up was also pretty telling. In fact, she now found herself sprawled on the floor, facing the precarious ceiling, both her hands acting as a makeshift pillow behind her head.

With a lazy movement from her head, she beckoned Regina into doing the same, but the woman did not move from her position on her own bed. She was lying on her stomach, head by the end nearest to the bars, her elbows supporting it. "No, thank you, dear. This bed is horrible, but it is still better than the floor."

"Come on, keep me company," she pouted, but the woman would not budge. "Fine. You're missing all the intricate patterns of the ceiling, though."

"It's a cave, Miss Sway," the Mayor in her was making an appearance, "there are no patterns, it is just rocks."

"I still like it," Emma whispered, and, after eating more than she had over the last days, she was soon overcome by sleep.