A LEDGER SQUARED IN BLOOD
By Scribes and Scrolls
CHAPTER NINE: NEW WORLD ORDER
Emma sat on a rocky red ledge at the very end of the ravine that flowed down from Cora's castle. She watched the people below her, chest tightening with anxiety, knowing in a few more hours she would have to play her part in this war.
And she would see Regina.
She cast that disturbing thought from her mind and took in her surroundings. To her left, beyond a copse of trees and far below she could make out their camp going up. Teams of Storybrooke townspeople worked efficiently, led by half a dozen dwarves, erecting camouflage tents in a circle. In the centre was a larger tent – headquarters most likely, and if she squinted, she could just make out the tall shape of James pointing at tasks that needed doing.
He was striding about with more direction than she could ever remember the mild-mannered animal-shelter worker displaying as David. He seemed to be relishing the role. Actually, they all did.
She'd offered to help but Grumpy had shooed her away, suggesting she leave the job to the experts. Dejected, she'd stalked off only to discover Granny sharpening makeshift wooden spears with the same ease that she plucked chickens.
She had lifted an astonished eyebrow at her, and watched as she ordered around teens and young adults with the precision of a drill sergeant.
"Do I want to know what they're for," Emma asked hesitantly, indicating the growing pile of pikes, when the grey-haired cook finally paused from barking out orders at her recruits.
"Never know when you're gonna need a good old fashioned spike pit or three," she'd replied with a slightly blood-thirsty gleam.
Emma had blinked, uncertain as to whether Granny was joking or not. The woman, wearing work pants, a dusty apron and rolled up grey sleeves, looked her up and down.
"Shouldn't you be planning for tonight?" she asked, dropping her whittling knife into an apron pocket.
"Huh?"
"Well working out what to wear to woo your woman?" Grey eyebrows rose expectantly and Emma groaned inwardly.
"She's not 'my woman', Granny," Emma ground out. "Far from it."
"Pfft," the older woman snorted. "You didn't get to watch how Regina Mills changed the moment you hit town. Always asking people what you were doing, what you were up to. When you'd be here or there, watching for you in her car, timing her visits to my diner so you'd be here…"
"So you're saying she was my stalker," Emma retorted, pushing her fists into her pockets stubbornly.
Granny ignored her with a world-weary sigh she reserved for the eternally dense or her errant granddaughter. "Now you mind you wear something nice. Something that'll make her glad to see you again after all this time," she said, thinking hard.
She pointed one of her sharpened spears decisively at Emma. "Actually, you'll wear that jacket you've got on. That'll do the trick nicely."
Emma scowled and looked down at her red leathers. "She hates me in this."
"Snow tells me she darned it for you, so she can't hate it that much."
Emma frowned. I suppose so.
"Come and see me before you go, I have a nice cologne that'll make your Honey sweeter on you than bees."
"She's not my hone…"
It was useless. Emma sighed, aggrieved. The plump woman turned away, distracted again as she barked at some youths who had dumped more tree branches at her feet, one accidentally rolling across her boot.
"Were you dragged up, sonny?" she bellowed. "There's an old lady's foot under there!"
"S-sorry, Granny." The youth looked at her in terror and Granny smirked, glancing back to Emma.
"Gotta teach that lot who's boss, dear," she chuckled, moving away. "Now then, I'd best see to sharpening the swords."
She moved off, muttering her to-do list to herself, and heading for the armoury. Well Emma supposed it was the armoury but, really, it looked like every other tent.
Emma had already gotten lost twice trying to find the ablutions tent – the fancy word for bathrooms in fairytale boot camp – and wound up stumbling instead upon Gepetto constructing long tables and benches for the meals area.
The old man's face creased into a wide, friendly smile and Emma realised it was the happiest she'd ever seen him. She discovered why a moment later when he shifted and August had stuck his head up from his work. To hell she'd ever call him Pinocchio. He grinned and waved a saw at her and resumed his work.
"Hey, um, which way to the bath… ablutions tent?" she called out.
The old man pointed the way she'd already come and she sighed. Why was she the only one so useless at all this? She never got lost in Boston and that was a full-on city.
Her mood only got blacker when she finally discovered where she'd be showering and toileting for god knows how long with Storybrooke's former residents.
She eyed the canvas divides and the high, bucket-water set-up for the showers. Cold water, she noted. The canvas walls were strung only just low enough to protect the modesty of the dwarves but she was not entirely sure they were high enough to prevent the statuesque Red from putting on a show. Although she doubted Red would care. Emma, on the other hand, decided she would wait until much, much later in the evening before testing out the facilities.
She moved over to the toilet area and sighed mightily at the basic wooden boxes with holes in them, fixed over pits in the ground and more barely-legal canvas walls. She thought fondly back to the wonders of modern civilisation that she'd left behind and wondered what on earth had made Henry so hellbent on breaking the stupid curse only to get them all to this.
Henry. Her thoughts flew to the excitable boy who, with the rest of the children and elderly, had been led by Archie and the Blue Fairy down a path to where a different tunnel would get them to the Enchanted Forest.
Henry had rushed over to her, given her a quick hug and shouted "Bye Emma, save Mom for me," then rushed back to his group as though marching through fairytale realms was an everyday event for him. His enthusiasm was not catching.
She had given the ablutions block one last, sour glance. Hell, even Regina had fitted out her little cottage with more style than this half-star travesty.
Sorrow washed across her as she remembered what they'd discovered when the townspeople had trudged out of the tunnel earlier that day. Emma had led Snow and James to where she had spent her time with Regina, pushing aside the bad memories, but almost excited because in this foreign, strange new world, here was something so achingly familiar to her.
Instead… She had recoiled in horror at what they'd found when she realised Cora had indeed enacted her threat of flattening the cottage.
Her mouth had opened and closed. She'd felt Snow's arm come around her shoulders and lead her away as the blonde uttered inane comments like "it was right here…"
She remembered the regret as she flicked her eyes over to the site of the kitchen table where they had shared many breakfasts and bracing mugs of Regina's bitter brew. And the bed. Where they had shared so much more…
Emma felt devastated and clenched her eyes shut. This was wrong. So wrong. She wondered if Regina knew what her mother had done.
Snow and James had redirected her attention by asking her the way to the ravine and Emma had pointed numbly towards the mountain. That was all it took for the leaders of the motley war band to spring into action.
She vaguely remembered her specific warnings to Snow of various obstacles ahead, but her words seemed so far away and distant. She remembered little else. Well, except for a wolf pack arriving, their small, excited bodies almost quivering in delight, and bowing low before their majesties as they vowed to guard them from the deathclaws until out of their territory. Snow and James had each dropped to one knee to formally acknowledge them, much to the animals' delight.
Before Emma knew it they were there.
Hidden from prying palace eyes by a thick tree thicket, and well away from the vicious vulture she had warned the others about, they were at the far end of the world's creepiest ravine. In moments, without being told, everyone had sprung into action and a camp had begun to emerge around her.
It had depressed her mightily – her out-of-depth feeling magnified with each slammed in tent peg, and each time the blacksmith ambled by with glowing, newly minted weapons, or archers loped off to look for small game for dinner. They were people with faces she knew from a modern setting but had instantly morphed into medieval versions of themselves.
She had gazed about unhappily. The smells were all wrong. The sun seemed in the wrong place. And the people were very, very wrong. The differences had been far subtler in Storybrooke but it seemed the moment they had stepped foot in their old world they became who they had always been.
Red walked taller, more purposefully, with an air of danger, like the wolf her mother told her she could turn into.
Snow herself had a keen edge and a wicked tongue that had astonished her. She was also devastatingly accurate with bow and arrow.
James was a leader in every sense and had a regal bearing that still unnerved Emma when his warm blue eyes would catch hers curiously.
The only one unchanged had been herself.
And it sucked.
So Emma had snuck away, noticing the ledge halfway up the ravine wall and decided to get out of everyone's way for a while.
She heard scrambling sounds and glanced down. Red was agilely making her way up the cliff face with a determined look on her face. She could well believe her friend was half wolf with the rapid progress she was making.
When her dark head with red streaks poked up over the ledge, Emma scooted to one side to make room.
"Hey," Red said with a wide grin, patting down her knees of red dirt and leaning gratefully back against the wall beside her.
"Hey," Emma replied morosely. "Back from scouting already?"
"Eh, you go faster on four legs, so yeah."
"What'd you see?"
Red shrugged. "This and that. I went with Henry and the others to the Enchanted Forest first. It was pretty much just how we left it – a bit overgrown. The other realms' people were a bit spooked when everyone just vanished from there so they pretty much left it be. They thought it must be haunted. I did shred a few vermin squatters, though," she added with a bloodthirsty grin.
Emma felt slightly queasy and glanced at her friend. Red quickly dropped her expression. "Sorry, Em," she said. "I forget you're not used to any of this."
"No," Emma agreed. "It's a crazy amount of adjustment. I don't even understand why Henry's not freaking out like I am."
"He's a kid," Red shrugged. "This was his dream all along. Oh, by the way, he wanted me to tell you he's fine and happy and helping pick a room in the palace for you for when you move back there."
Emma scowled and stared at her dusty boots.
"Hey," Red asked, "What is it?"
"He sounds like he wants us here for the long haul. I can barely stand being here for five minutes. Hell there's not even a flushing toilet. And forget hamburgers and Coke and TV sports and… and… AA batteries."
Red laughed. "I did actually pack a huge stash of those."
"For your, um… Walkman?" Emma asked, baffled.
Red blushed a little. "Um, OK, yeah that, too. But a girl gets lonely, too, so…"
Emma paused for a moment until it dawned on her what her friend was getting at and she groaned in embarrassment burying her head in her hands.
"Well that's forward planning, Red. I never even thought to pack that."
Red giggled. "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about being, um, lonesome, soon, right?"
Emma looked even more appalled.
"Oh come on, Em, show a bit of enthusiasm. You're gonna see Regina tonight. And, I did a little scouting at the other end of the ravine, too. Thanks for the heads up on those swelter pools by the way…"
Emma glared at her in exasperation, willing her to finish the freaking sentence.
"Anyway I know which room is Regina's now - I got quite close before the scout birds noticed me. I'll draw you a map later so you don't bust in on the guards' rooms or her crazy mother or something."
Emma's head snapped up. "Did you see her? How'd she look?"
"Just a glimpse but it was definitely her. Not close enough to see her face though, but I'd know that Madame Mayor strut anywhere," Red grinned. She elbowed Emma. "So, come on, excited about tonight?"
"Gah, I don't think Regina's gonna be too thrilled to see me, Red. She left on nasty terms."
Red slapped her arm. "Don't be ridiculous, our Mayor Mills was panting for you from day one. And now she's had all this time to be missing you, she'll have your clothes ripped off before you get past 'Hi Reg'…." Red teased her with a playful elbow jab to her ribs.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I'll be lucky if she doesn't hurl me over that balcony. She probably could you know. She's stronger than she looks. Or she might just tell me all the ways I am not worthy of her attention in her usual cutting way."
Red grinned. "Yeah, she has a way with insults for sure. But you know, I do think you two are meant to be. And so does Granny. There's a reason she packed all those wedding feast ingredients. I think her Regina-in-a-tux cake decoration is so cute by the way."
Emma gaped. Finally she gave up and shook her head.
"I really don't think you two get how completely indifferent she is to me right now. If I succeed it'll be an absolute miracle. And everyone's counting on me." She sighed heavily until Red patted her thigh comfortingly.
"Hey you're looking at this all wrong. Why don't you think of it like one of your bounty hunter special-op missions. You get in, you chat to the target, you get out again. All the rest is just BS. And if you happen to make out with the target and cop a bit of a feel before your sleuthy super-spy exit, more's the better."
She cackled evilly and Emma couldn't help but laugh. "You are impossible."
"Yeah I know."
"Hey,you two, mind if I join you?"
Snow's voice approaching them from behind made Emma start in surprise.
"Whoa! Where did you spring from?" She glanced down the cliff face. No way she'd have missed her mother crawling up that.
"The path of course," she pointed behind her.
"There's a path?"
"Oh Em, you do like to do things the hard way."
Emma shrugged.
Red grinned conspiratorially. "I knew about the path, too. But I just came up the cliff cos I wanted to stretch out my haunches a bit. And on that note, I'll leave you two to chat. Em - I'll leave you a map in your tent."
Emma nodded, wondering if she'd have any hope of working out which one was her tent anyway. They watched as Red easily dropped over the ledge and scampered down the cliff face with the agility of a mountain goat.
"So," Snow began easing herself down. "Enjoying the view?"
"Mm," Emma shrugged. "Just getting out from underfoot. Everyone seems to know what they're doing and I'm … I don't have the faintest clue."
Understanding filled the other woman's face and Emma felt embarrassed she'd admitted that much. "It's not like I had the training you all did," she added defensively. "This is as foreign to me as outer space. You have all taken to it like you were born to it. Which, actually, you were."
She couldn't help feel slightly resentful. Snow in particular had been like the fairytale land's pin-up girl. There seemed to be nothing she couldn't do or didn't know about this world. She was an instant expert on everything.
Emma, on the other hand, felt as useful as a one-legged ant. She eyed her mother's outfit, so at odds with what the teacher used to wear in Storybrooke. Leather pants, tan. Leather vest, tan. Leather cape, tan.
Well, OK, maybe she didn't excel at colour variations. Although Emma rather coveted her boots. Leather. Dark tan.
"I know it's a lot to take in, but you will adapt," Snow said. "Don't forget you are our child – a product of these lands even if you don't remember it."
Emma shrugged, unconvinced.
"Are you worried about tonight?" Snow asked perceptively, tilting her head.
The blonde squinted towards the setting sun. Finally she nodded. "Yeah. Gonna be hard. After… you know."
Snow frowned, and a hint of anger crossed her face. Emma could well imagine her remembering the nastiness of that letter.
Suddenly Emma turned to her mother. "I don't know if I can do this – convince her. She's a pretty bloody-minded person – you know that. And I am just the fool who fell for her. I mean what the hell am I doing? She could laugh me out of the castle or toss me in the dungeon or …"
"Em," Snow sighed. She bit her lip. "She's not going to do any of those things. You have to have faith."
"You are telling me to have faith in the woman who has been after your blood for three decades?" she snorted in disbelief.
"That would only be a valid argument if I was the one visiting her. It's true, she tried to have me killed. I am fairly sure she had a hand in killing my father. She also poisoned me once. And she imprisoned James to get at me."
"This is supposed to make me feel better?"
"No, actually I am reminding you of who you are dealing with," Snow said, eyes glittering intently. "She is cruel and she holds grudges. And if she wanted you to suffer with all her heart, then you would suffer. The fact is she doesn't actually wish ill on you at all."
"The letter seems to indicate otherwise."
"The letter is a lie and we both know it."
Emma's shoulders slumped. She so wanted to believe.
"Why are you helping me reconnect with her?"
"I am doing no such thing, Emma. I am helping you break up a wicked alliance. And I am using your former connection with her to do so." Snow looked at her archly. "If you want to go off the plan and initiate something else with her, I can't stop you. I'd urge extreme caution, but I can't stop you. But you have to remember why we're doing this. Thousands will die if you forget your main mission."
"You really suck at pep talks you know that," Emma grumbled.
"This isn't a pep talk," Snow said, eyes burning. "It's a briefing. But, all that aside, I do want you to face Regina with some confidence, so there's something I have to tell you."
Emma eyed her warily. "Does it involve spikes?"
Snow ignored her and pointed at her jacket. "It's about this," she said softly, dusting her fingers over the red material. "There's something I didn't tell you earlier. About what it means that Regina darned this for you, and embroidered your name in it."
Emma stared at her completely baffled. "What do you mean? What's the big deal?"
"Oh Em," Snow sighed. "You have no idea." She drew in a deep breath and let it out heavily. "It began when I was a little girl in my father's palace…"
Emma listened silently to her mother's story about a younger Regina with a talent for sewing only matched by her loathing of it. When she was finished, Snow's voice catching briefly as she recalled watching the beautiful needlework combust in flames, Emma found herself biting her lip.
"What does it mean?" she whispered, fingering her jacket sleeve subconsciously.
"I think you know."
The reply was so quiet.
"I uh…" Emma frowned. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
A soft sigh. "I was afraid. I don't want to lose you again and not to her."
Emma stared at her legs stretched out in front of her, brain processing. "That's not going to happen. The losing me thing," she muttered.
Snow smiled. "I am glad," she said then paused, a pensive look on her face. "Are you angry with me, for not telling you earlier?"
Emma gazed at her helplessly. "I don't know. Why tell me now?"
"I wanted you to be confident tonight. When you look Regina in the eye, do it as her equal. Not in fear because you believe that letter. You can look at her and know it was a lie and face her on your own terms. Strong."
Emma squared her shoulders. "OK," she gave a half smile, her heart now pounding as the implications suddenly hit home. "Do you think this means what I think it does? That Regina might … you know?"
"Honestly Em?" Snow said, "I hope not. But, I, maybe, yes. She probably does."
A warm smile crossed Emma's face and for the first time since she'd come to this god forsaken land she actually felt happy about it.
Snow looked at her wryly. "Well don't let it go to your head," she said, lips twitching.
Emma just grinned even wider.
"What's the use," Snow sighed, climbing to her feet. "The young of today," she grumbled. "Look, just don't forget your main mission tonight, OK?"
"I won't," Emma said earnestly.
Snow exited towards the path.
"And come down soon and make yourself useful. Someone has to help Granny skin the rabbits," she called out.
"Ew," Emma scowled, getting to her feet. "Aren't they like sentient or something?"
"Not anymore," Snow snickered cheerfully.
Emma once again was struck by how different this woman was away from Storybrooke. Her face fell in horror. Snow glanced back and laughed out loud at her appalled expression. "Lighten up, Em. I was only kidding."
The blonde shook her head. This strange new world was going to take some getting used to.
. . . . . . . .
Regina blinked back into existence and slumped in exhaustion. She was just out of view of the palace guards and she was an absolute mess. Not only had she done two teleportation spells in under an hour but she had also pulled off her impersonation spell once more.
She gnawed her lip pensively. She could barely walk. If she staggered towards her guards in this condition they'd be sure to report it to Cora and when the events she had put into motion today came to pass later, her mother would surely work out it was her hand behind it all.
That could not happen.
As she was working out what to do next, the most delightful sight she could ever imagine came into view.
Rosemary, followed closely by Clarice, was making quite the deliberate spectacle in front of the guards. The former had donned a scandalously low-cut dress – Really, Regina mused gratefully, was she stealing ALL her old tricks? – and she had the undivided attention of the first guard.
Clarice, meanwhile was starting a feisty argument with the second guard, using a rather hilarious line of insults about his slipping security abilities while claiming a turnip thief was running rampant in the palace.
Regina smirked and made her way slowly forward, careful not to stagger, eager to take advantage of the distraction. As she passed the guards she nodded to them curtly but they barely noticed her, still fending off the servants' varied attentions.
She only leaned heavily against the wall once she was around the corner. She caught her breath.
She was joined soon by Rosemary who rushed up to her and took her by the elbow, helping her back to her feet.
"Are you OK Your Majesty?" she whispered, edging them along the corridor. "Clarice told me where you went and what condition you'd likely be in when you returned. We were looking out for you. Did … things … go well?"
Regina nodded. "If you just help me to my bedroom without anyone seeing, I would say the day was a success."
Rosemary slipped her hand around the brunette's waist and carefully helped her inch along the corridor.
"Is King Midas really all they say?" she asked.
"It depends on what they say, dear," Regina snorted. "He was a stuffy conservative fool who swallowed the bait greedily."
"Ooh, what did you say to him?" Rosemary's eyes widened in rapt attention. She opened the bedroom door for Regina and led her in, closing it quietly.
"Patience, my dear," the brunette said, easing herself to her bed. "It will all come out soon. And the best part…"
She paused as she leaned forward attempting to remove her boots. Her hands kept fumbling. Rosemary quickly fell to her knees and nimbly took over.
"The best part," Regina repeated, letting her hands drop by her sides, her words slurring with tiredness, "no one will ever know that the little cockroach was behind it all."
The blonde frowned. "Cockroach? Whatever do you mean?"
"Rosemary," Regina sighed so, so softly, as she lay back on the bed, closing her eyes. "It's just something my mother called me once."
She was asleep in moments. Rosemary neatly placed the boots next to the bed and lay a blanket over the royal, unable to resist whispering in her ear "I think you should call me Rose, now, Your Majesty."
The servant smiled and closed the door after her, and decided to make it her mission to tell the household Regina was not be disturbed for the rest of the day. She did not hear the sleepy, contented mumble moments later: "OK Rose."
. . . . . . . .
Regina awoke with a start unable at first to place what had hauled her fuzzy mind out of its deep slumber. She slid her eyes out the windowed doors over the balcony. She could see a faint amount of light from the full moon but realised it was otherwise completely dark outside.
What time was it? Had she slept all day and half the night? Seemed so.
Not for the first time she missed wristwatches and bedside alarm clocks.
She heard a small thump from outside. Was this what had awakened her?
She strained her ears and eyes and realised the sound was coming closer. A shadow suddenly appeared and she swallowed a sharp cry of surprise.
A figure was commando-crawling along the balcony floor at snail's pace, pushing a sack in front of them. It paused in front of her doors and Regina sank back into her pillows, eyes wide as she wondered who would dare intrude on her bedroom.
Was it an assassin? Her mother wouldn't be so sneaky. She preferred the brazen full-frontal assault so she could laugh in the face of her victim.
As Regina stared she realised the figure kept turning, trying to see into her bedroom. But the moon's backlighting meant all they'd see was pitch black. Regina swallowed in relief.
Should she call for the guards? Her mother abhorred weakness and would probably sneer at her for not sorting out a lowly intruder by herself.
Good point. Regina bared her lips and swallowed her fear, lifting a hand in the darkness and conjured up a fireball.
At least that's what she tried to do. Not so much as a mystical fizz appeared in her hand. She sighed and closed her fingers into a fist. Clearly her magical powers were out of juice. Not surprising after what she'd put her body through hours ago.
She looked back at the shadow and realised the person was rooting through their sack, searching for something. Unable to find it, the intruder had now softly emptied the contents out onto the floor in front of them.
Regina peered in disbelief. Finally the person stopped sifting and returned to the door, pushing something into the lock and jiggling it.
Well that was pointless, Regina knew. Her mother had fried that lock two weeks ago. She had meant to magic up a new lock but hadn't gotten around to it. The irony was if her intruder had just tested the door first, they would have found it was not actually locked at all.
She heard a small muttered curse and realised her intruder had just discovered the lock's thoroughly twisted and useless innards.
Regina's eyebrows shot up. A female's voice. She frowned. Had Snow come herself to end her? But the height of her attacker was all wrong to be Snow.
That was it. She had to know. Heart pounding ferociously, she tossed back her covers, stalked to door and flung it open.
The shadow's face lifted and Regina realised a black beanie had been obscuring long blonde tresses. The woman rose from the floor and the brunette rapidly sought out her eyes.
"Regina!" a familiar voice whispered, containing surprise at the door suddenly opening.
No, a voice gasped inside her head. No, no, no. She's dead. This is a trick. Your brain is playing tricks.
But.
She gazed at the face. A pensive frown greeted her – a mix of hope and fear written starkly across unguarded features. She watched as the woman pulled the beanie off, and her face twisted into a wry, slightly awkward expression. The ghost spoke again, the sides of her mouth twisting ever so slightly. "Hey."
A shudder shot up Regina's spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. This was no trick.
She … was … is alive.
Regina stood in the cold night air, frozen to the spot, and simply stared and stared, her mouth working wordlessly, disbelieving eyes falling into the blue orbs that had haunted her dreams.
"Regina?" This time the voice contained an edge of concern. A black-gloved hand reached out and stroked her arm gently.
She snapped her mouth closed.
This was real.
All she could croak out was one word. "Em-ma?"
Her voice cracked as she said it.
A nod.
And then her whole world came crashing down.
.
Author's note: I know, I know. But this would have wound up the world's longest chapter if I didn't end it there. I promise I will not make you wait long for your Swan Queeny feels next chapter. I hope, in the meantime, you liked this one. On a personal note, I am so relieved our grrls are reunited. Writing them apart for so long made my soul ache and spiked my chocolate consumption to unholy levels.
