Clanking sounds from the entrance to the dungeon forces them both to turn.
The woman who approaches is jittery and seems oddly unthreatening, though she waves a short dagger, is breathing hard, and looks like she's been through the wars. Dark skin, flashing dark eyes, hair all a-tumble, as it falls from what must usually be a careful coif, she gains quickly on the two of them and Regina raises her hand, ready to obliterate the intrusion at the first sign of actual aggression.
Emma jumps to stop her.
She seems to understand about this anxious, whirling dervish, something that Regina does not, because she's grabbing at Regina's arm to still it, and hissing out a whispered, "Good guy!" into her ear.
"Mon petit!" The woman approaches Regina, with relief, fear, and fiery determination all clearly evident. She rapidly takes in Emma with a nod, noting the force field, the frozen men and beside them Cora, before she grabs up Regina in a hug, who, startled, lets out a
"Yelp!"
At Emma's urgent look, Regina tries to figure out
what in the world
the blonde is mouthing to her to say, because it looks like…
'me me?'
"Are you fine?" The woman asks in a delicate, rolling accent, starting to drill into the situation immediately, brow furrowed and searching Regina for signs of injury. Regina, giving her a tentative, yet hopeful smile hasn't responded properly, apparently. "Why aren't you fine? What's wrong with you? What'd they do?" and whirling on Emma, her dagger glinting and pointing at Emma's carotid, "What'd you let them do?"
Before Regina can intervene, Emma smiles at the small woman and throws her hands skyward in playful surrender.
"Hey! Innocent party, Fanchon." She says the woman's name with purpose, to clue in Regina, though it helps not in the least and she's still puzzling out what the Sheriff had wanted her to say.
"Me me."
And the ball of ferocious concern whips herself back to Regina.
"There you are, yes?" The dark eyes peer hard into Regina's returning gaze, hungering for confirmation. Regina smiles broadly and nods, then pulls the woman, still vibrating with tension, into a new hug, recognizing this is what's expected of the version of herself she would seem to be embodying presently.
Not recognizing an ally. Strange. Surely she should have remembered someone, anyone that would brave a confrontation with her mother on her behalf. Regina's mind was a whirl, trying to figure out the circumstances, even as she wondered why her younger self hadn't taken over when she'd first felt that earlier tingle of separation.
Regina recognized the dress she wore, and she knew that it's acquisition must place her only in one, particular timeframe—just before her marriage to Leopold, the week of her schooling from Rumplestiltskin, the week she rid herself of her mother.
"I'm fine…" Regina looks over the small woman's shoulder as they hug and Emma nods and again mouths what Regina now supposes is a nickname. "I'm fine, Me me."
As they separate, Regina elaborates.
"But we should clear out of here, before, well…" The dark, frozen eyes of her mother seem to glare at her from within the static field. "Before mother…"
"You're right, Petit, but there's more to worry on than that."
Even as Fanchon finishes her warning, the clatter of many, heavily armored men sounds through the dungeon. The noise seems to come from every conceivable direction.
"That King, he sent his wizard after you. A terror, he is, the wizard." Fanchon continues, and grabs at Regina's hand. She begins pulling her, deeper into the gloom of the dungeon. Before them, a low ceilinged, dimly lit passage that narrows into blackness.
Emma abruptly appears before them both, arms raised, worriedly glancing over her shoulder into the unknown.
"Woah! Fanchon, where the hell are you going? We have to get OUT of this place. That's only going to take us further underground."
"You need to follow me, mesye." Fanchon's voice growls at her, brooking no argument, but Emma stands firm.
"I'm not taking Regina down there if I don't know where it goes, dammit!" Emma's face looks tense and angry.
"The two of you. Stop!" Regina calms them both with a gentle hand, and in the next beat, she forms a fireball in her right. She tosses it into the passage, and it lights the way…
all the way to the faraway dead end, where a body lies still and bent at an unnatural angle.
Emma whirls on the smaller woman, who is looking more than a bit distressed. Fanchon's eyes flash between looking at Regina with amazement, and back at the dreadful fate that was nearly theirs further along her proffered route.
"Fanchon?!" Emma demands.
"It was—That should take us out." She turned pleading eyes to Emma. "It did. Before."
"Well not now." Emma seems to trust what seems a questionable response, and Regina follows her lead.
"Plan B." She says, with an encouraging smile.
"Oh, no, your majesty." A familiar voice pierces the darkness. "No second chances for you."
Ah yes. the little imp.
Regina turns to Rumplestiltskin with a glare that would have melted lesser men. His hand is raised and tense, and she can feel the powerful spell he's using on her to cloak her magic.
She's powerless.
Mostly.
"Rumpleshtiltshkin. You're early for the wedding."
"Oh, no I'm not early, dearie! I'm right on time. Wha ha!" and with an insane cackle and a flick of his wrist, he, Regina and Emma are transported…
to a narrow footpath leading precariously up the face of a steep cliff.
Regina sees Emma falter from the surprising relocation, and the even more sudden lack of purchase beneath their feet.
"Emma!" she calls with a quiet urgency, but she is still bound by Rumple's magic, helpless to even offer a steadying hand. She watches in terror as Emma teeters, trying to get her balance, else she lose her footing—and her life, most assuredly, on the rocks far below.
With a final, Herculean effort, Emma twists her body into the rock, grabbing at enough cold stone to dig her fingers around and hang on tight.
"Shit!" Emma says and shuts her eyes a moment. Sucking in great gasps, she peers over her shoulder and looks up at Regina.
"Phew." Emma remarks, her brow rising, then crinkling with worry and love, and it feels to Regina as though she's trying to figure out something that she just can't, but she doesn't dare ask aloud with Rumple so close.
With a quick glance to the man's back, Regina turns, feeling her heart softening as she meets the blonde's gaze.
"I'm okay." Regina says with a grin.
"Still you?" Emma asks with a soft breathlessness.
"Still me." Regina replies quietly. "Don't think she's feeling ready just yet."
"I can see why." Emma answers ruefully.
And there is a moment, where Regina meets Emma's gaze, and all else retreats. Regina sees only her. Not the hazards ahead, the unseen fate, the path of their life. Not their foibles or their missteps. Not Graham or Hook or Tink or Neal, or even Snow and Charming—all of those barriers are gone. Not even Cora remains. She's in her younger body, hanging onto the side of a cliff for dear life, but in the look that passes between she and Emma, she has never felt more certain.
So why do I feel so vulnerable, Regina wonders…
"Ladies!" Rumple calls out from just ahead, "Let's not yammer!"
…And her voice is silenced by the dark and selfish agenda that seems to encompass Rumple's entire purpose in life. Regina tries to make a sound, but nothing comes out. Emma, too, is similarly afflicted, apparently.
Regina's jaw sets hard, and her dark, trespassed eyes would sear holes through Rumple's back had she access to any power.
So she climbs, and Emma climbs. They are powerless to do any less, or any more, and the vision of what looks to be a more stable footbridge ahead tempts them both. At least an entire width of their foot might be supported on it.
And as she climbs, the heat of the morning sun beating down on them, Regina feels one more thing she is powerless to stop. Her younger self is pushing her out. She feels her consciousness looking for handholds, to stay here, to stay present, as she'd watched Emma on the rocks just moments before, but there are none to be had. And Regina feels herself plummet away, as though dropped into that bottomless ravine beside them.
And Young Regina takes…
Over.
And all is quiet.
/
Emma climbs and watches the woman in front of her, ready to call out in warning if Regina misses a loose pebble or leans too far skyward. She watches her climb in the long dress with its fluffy skirts, in shoes meant for ballrooms, not rock-climbing, and she marvels at the fortitude. She watches and lets herself go back to the lake in Neverland, to the first time she'd been let in, been witness to all the beauty and vulnerability and passion that Regina radiates in her most genuine moments.
Regina.
Queen of her heart. Indeed.
Emma feels her heart race at the memory, and then faster, as she witnesses her stunning majestic Queen, disappear.
She sees it immediately, in Regina's gait. There is an almost imperceptible trip, before her steps become smaller, less assured as she navigates the rocks and overhangs. She sees it in the way Regina glances back at her, shyly, with a studied determination that her older self simply embodies without effort.
And then, there is the fact that she winks.
Emma can't help but laugh… silently… at that. Regina seems to appreciate the guffaw even with no sound to carry it over the cavern, her eyes lighting up as she gazes back at Emma.
As usual, Regina is right. She is irresistible. No matter the version.
"Nearly there, dearies!" Gold breaks the spell of their silent communion. "Hope you enjoyed the walk. So much more drrrammatic…" he trills, "then whisking us up here, yes?"
what do you want with us, Gold?
Is the unspoken question from Emma, who leans into her current piece of ledge and eyes the footbridge so close, yet so far from both Regina and herself. She eyes Gold as well, trying not to wig out about whatever the hell is up with his skin over here. Is it, as it appears, actually sparkling with a kind of muddy, gooey, gold?
He ambles onto the bridge with disproportionate glee and practically prances about like a, what was it Regina called him?
An imp.
Yeah. That.
"I'm excited for this bit, dearies. SO very satisfying." He taunts and watches as she and Regina finish their climb, both close enough now to reach the bridge.
Regina looks back at Emma, who nods quickly, sure that whatever danger Gold offers on the bridge can't be any more hazardous than being stuck on the side of this cliff.
Regina steps onto the bridge and Emma breathes out, raggedly.
But as Emma nears the bridge, Gold holds his hand out, and Emma feels her body halt mid-stride.
"Ah ah. That's far enough for you, Blondie." He cackles and steeples his fingers together in front of a decidedly unsettling grin. He points to Emma's position. "Best seat in the house."
Emma feels herself sitting against her will. The thin strip of rock she finds herself teetering on isn't nearly wide enough and she scrambles to keep herself safe.
Regina's concern for her is obvious in the etched lines that appear in her face. She wants to reach out, to call out. She wants to save Emma, but Gold has other plans.
"Now!" The imp blurts, "let's see who you are and what you're all about, shall we?" He tilts his head at Emma, "Do you like games?"
If Emma had her voice, she'd say,
"Fuck you."
Turns out, her voice is working just fine.
Regina tries again to speak, to call to her, but there is only silence as she pulls at her throat, leans forward to make her breath carry to the cliff side.
"Tsk. Tsk. In front of a lady." Gold prances to the other side of Regina, his arms waving beside her as though he were showing off a prize farm animal. "And what do you think of our lady, Blondie? I think I know! Hee hee!"
"You can't know anything about me."
This intrigues the imp.
"Really?" Gold puts a finger to his cheek before pointing it at Emma. "Wrong!" And the man is suddenly standing next to Emma, balanced on nothing, hovering, it seems in the space in front of her eyes. He leans in closer and whisper, "I know everything."
And he's again back on the footbridge before Emma has any possibility to react. He holds out his hand and after he urges, Regina takes it reluctantly.
"Regina! Don't trust him!"
"Don't trust me? Me! Oh that's rich coming from you, Blondie." He takes Regina's hand and moves her to the center of the bridge. He leans close to her and making sure Emma can hear him, says, "That one could save you, Regina."
Regina looks at him with confusion, not understanding. Her eyes plead with Emma from across the span.
"Don't listen to him, Regina! Listen to me!" Emma says desperately.
"Oh, but I'm only speaking the truth… Savior!"
His use of Emma's new 'title' unnerves her. How did this Rumplestiltskin know anything about her 'promotion' to savior of the world?
Regina looks only more unsure as Emma tries to figure out what game Gold is up to and how she can possibly beat him at it while clinging to the side of a cliff.
"You see, my dear Queen, all around you is corruption. Corruption, corruption, corruption." He sings. "Your mother, your future husband, even, me." Gold speaks with a twisted hum and Regina leans back, away from him. "But, she, has the power to change all that, don't you, dearie?"
Emma senses she's got only a short time to convince Regina of anything that might help them clear of Gold. She thinks…
"Regina, I love you." She calls out. "Do you hear me? I love you. Whatever this… animal says about me, there is nothing that won't be more true than that."
Regina's eyes meet hers and Emma feels their softness in her belly, feels Regina's unspoken proclamation in her darkly glittering gaze.
"Touching. But, true?" Gold asks. "Let's see."
A wave of his hand and Regina is atop the bridge railing, unbalanced, her feet hanging mostly off the rail, her body shaking with the effort to stay upright. The entire bridge is vibrating under the displaced weight. At any moment, the whole thing looks ready to collapse.
"Regina!" Emma calls desperately.
"So long as Blondie is here." Gold continues, "Your future is sealed, Regina. And it isn't pretty, is it, Savior?"
"Leave her alone, Gold!"
"OR! Your life can be one of extraordinary power, dearie." Gold says quietly to Regina, "One where your mother will have no hold on you. Where your father will love you like you want him to. Where you will have all you want." Gold smiles at the young woman who struggles on the rail, struggles to understand him. "If you want down from there, it's easy."
He turns to Emma and stares straight at her.
"I send her crashing to her certain death by snapping this two fingers together." Gold holds up his index and middle finger. "Or you save her. Save her from everything by simply letting yourself… fall."
Emma doesn't believe in much else right now but the love she feels for Regina. However, she does believe that she can make a whole lot of pain stop. If she ends her life, right now, she can ensure that Regina won't be threatened by a child of Snow White's, won't ever launch a war, or enact a curse. Emma can stop the whole chain of events. It all begins with her.
Is this is what being the Savior is all about? It's easy to imagine. This. Going back to the beginning and making it the future completely different. If she can guarantee that Regina won't ever fall under the influence of Cora, then it's all worth it, isn't it?
"If I do this, you keep her mother away from her, and erase any memory of this day. Can you do that?" Emma asks, while her brain silently weighs the odds that Regina can continue to balance herself and not fall in spite of anything she might do.
"Emma, NO!" Regina calls out in terror at her negotiation with Gold, and as Emma meets the light in those amber eyes, she momentarily rethinks her decision.
"Done." Gold replies with a glint in his eye that even Emma can see.
"Regina…" Emma tries to begin. To explain, but the grief and terror that blooms on that exquisite face is too much.
Too much.
"I'm sorry." she manages to choke out, before her own tears flood her eyes.
Her last vision is of Regina, the darkly beautiful woman on the bridge, screaming in pain, as Emma pushes herself from the cliff and begins to fall.
/
Its strange how her mind rolls, as her body drops away.
As the wind howls through her, as the vultures talk to each other while they dive alongside. She wonders, why did she give up? Why had the decision been… so simple?
Emma thinks of these last, long, strange months in her own life, meeting Henry, Regina, her parents. The town. The curse. Fighting with Regina, sparring at every other opportunity, and purposefully together in all the rest. At every intersection of their lives, she felt one was always gaining or losing the upper-hand, as they battled over Henry, against one another, and finally in shared purpose.
Honestly, their animosity had been thrilling, an instant, exciting chemistry, but never because Emma thought she would actually be hurt—only challenged. And at every step. Emma had long ago given up living a safe and easy life. She threw herself into conflict, even danger, with abandon. And she always came out on top. She'd been best at the bail-bonds game, because it really mattered to her. Regina seemed to understand, as fundamentally as she, that there wasn't much point to life unless you believed in something so profoundly, you were willing to fight for it.
They were, in the end it seems, a perfect match.
The wind whistles in her ears, and Emma thinks to the moment she'd arrived, falling even then, through the sky and into the Enchanted Forest, and awakening to the vision of young Regina before her.
Emma'd had one long look into that captivating gaze, and saw instantly that here, it was still filled with warmth and possibility in spite of Cora's sadism. There was a future in those eyes that held promise, not the dread and fear and pain that Regina had exhibited so many times in their first interactions.
It took only that one look for Emma to know she wanted this Regina to exist. Forever. She wanted to erase the pain of Regina's future. To let the woman she loved, live in a world that still had hope.
It was true, she thought. Without her, there would be need for a curse. Without a curse, there would be no need for a Savior to break it.
Without Emma.
Without Henry.
Henry.
The pain hit Emma deep. She felt the twist of it as her body fell and her hair tangled above and her limbs seemed powerless to do anything but spin and bang in the breeze. She felt the loss of him in her gut, where she had carried him and tried to do right by him even though all she'd wanted to guzzle prison toilet gin and erase the surety of losing him. Where she had lost him. She'd fought so hard and it…
It had mattered.
In the end.
She had mattered because Regina had loved Henry. Loves Henry. And Henry loves her. Maybe she was actually the Savior, because she had Henry.
Henry.
Emma resets. Rethinks. In a microsecond she understand that no matter her confused notions about her purpose, or even Henry's, that, Gold is winning this fight, and Emma is letting him. She's chucked herself off that cliff with hardly a second thought in her blind devotion to the idea of saving Regina, when the only thing she was doing for certain was letting that little imp dictate who did what, and when. Again.
Fuck that.
And so Emma remembers her magic. Her own, unpredictable, almost pathetic, practically, mostly immaterial magic when compared to the universe-defying magic of Gold, of Regina. But hadn't Regina said that Emma was more powerful than she knew. Wasn't magic about emotion? Wasn't Emma completely and utterly pissed that she was throwing everything away at the direction of someone who had once believed the pursuit of power and wealth was infinitely more important than his own child? How many times had she hauled assholes like Gold to prison?
Fuck that twice.
And Emma gathers her thoughts, as her body gathers speed, as the downward trajectory seems, certainly, completely irreversible…
/
Emma hits the ground.
Or, the toe of her boot does, anyway. A little tap
tap tap
two taps, really, as her body halts its plummet mere inches from the surface and the break in momentum bounces her toe against the nearby ground.
tap tap.
And Emma thinks how amazing her fucking magic is, thank you very much and just as she is about to crow some more, the whole of her is yanked right back up to standing.
And Regina is beside her.
This Regina, young Regina, is in her arms and Emma doesn't know how, but doesn't really care.
"Oh my goodness! Did you see that? I can't believe I did it! Sheesh. Of course you saw it!" Regina squeals and jumps in Emma's arms, and her smile
would light the goddamn sun
wait. what? what'd you do?
"Oh, Emma! I did it, huh? I showed him!" Regina was still squealing and jumping, but interspersing both with quick, sweet kisses that landed on Emma's face, in her hair, at her ear, sending shivers all over and Emma nearly starts squealing. "That Rumplestiltskin won't bother us ever again, will he? When I caught you, I thought he'd burst into flames, his face got so red!" She grins widely and nods smartly. "No, I do not believe he will bother us again."
And now, Regina is giggling, and pulling Emma to a seat on a rock and Emma is looking around for a clue as to what has happened, and how and to where Gold is, but all the answers, she also imagines, will eventually roll out of the very exuberant woman beside her. She just might need some help.
"Regina?" Emma said, trying to calm them both by grabbing one of Regina's hands, and bringing it up. Under Emma's lips, her skin tastes like warmth and happiness.
She doesn't mean to, but such a feeling of contentment surges in her and Emma lets herself linger, and she lays her forehead against Regina's hand and just breathes. She feels a gentle hand on her hair, stroking her, soothing her and Emma's own galloping heart begins to slow and the sounds of the world around them assert themselves once more.
The cavern winds still blow, but the gusts are murmurs while she rests in Regina's lap. Far off, birds call with delight, not menace. She feels Regina's breath at her neck, having folded herself over Emma's bent torso.
"She really loves you, you know, Emma." Regina whispers. "I mean, I do. I love you." She strokes Emma's hair again. "I just didn't realize how much."
