Emma walked through the gate and stopped short. She took a deep breath, her fingers twitching at her side. Showing up had been an easy decision. Hell, it hadn't even been a decision. Not really. Regina wasn't the Queen anymore, but the monarch still lived inside her, surfacing with a sharp look or darkened tone.

Emma hadn't thought twice about dinner. The command took route in her soul and her body responded before her mind had a chance catch up. Even if she had thought about what she was doing, she wasn't sure what other options there were. Regina knew the truth now, and as much as she wanted to deny it, that hadn't been a bad thing so far.

Regina's presence soothed the restlessness in her blood, the constant adrenaline and anxiety coursing through her veins. She felt at ease, comforted by the effortless control the Mayor already seemed to be taking. Her demeanor was different, less formidable. The Queen possessed and devoured. Her power consumed, charging the air with electricity. Regina's presence was softer, more leading and less commanding. Emma could almost convince herself she had never fallen through the portal that it was all a dream. Regina instructed her and David, using her standard quick wit and snarky impatience. By lunch they had restored power to half the town and cleanup crews had repaired at least the major town buildings.

What had changed was Regina's proximity. She was never far from Emma, often placing a hand on her shoulder or back. It was more contact than they generally shared, but still mild compared to what she'd shared with the Queen. While the monarch had guided her with similar methods, her fingertips danced over Emma's skin, igniting and seducing. She knew Emma's sensitivities and always found a way to connect with those places.

She missed it. Each time Regina's hand graced the small of her back, she waited for the brush of a thumb above her jeans. She anticipated an arm circling her waist, holding her steady while hot breath tickled the nape of her neck.

It never came.

Of course it hadn't. Why would it? She had left the Enchanted Forest behind and their relationship. She and Regina didn't share the same intimate bond. Regina didn't remember, which was for the best.

Still, the Mayor had stepping to some sort of new role in her life. She was protective and observant, calling Emma to her if she wandered too far or tried to leave. There was no threat of consequences. At least not like she was used to, but the tone of voice held no leniency. Regina expected to be obeyed the same as the Queen.

There were other similarities. Old memories had crept in more than once that morning, freezing Emma in her tracks. Her heart pounded in her ear as guilt tugged at her chest. Her betrayal sliced at her heart as her mind darkened.

"Breathe."

That one word broke the glass box she'd been trapped inside, shattering the walls. She swayed, the forest trees blurring into focus. Her lungs expanded and the fear faded.

It was a temporary fix, a band aid. Standing outside the Manor, her muscles twitched with nervous energy. Regina knew the truth, but there was so much she didn't understand and too much Emma didn't want to talk about. The Mayor didn't seem to mad at her. Emma didn't want that to change. The only way to prevent that was to keep her mouth shut. She didn't trust her ability to do that. If Regina began asking questions, she knew she would slip up. She would answer and everything would change.

Hasn't it already?

She shook her head. There were some things they could never come back from. If Emma spilled the truth, she didn't see how they could move forward or how they could remain friends. She knew Regina would stay civil for Henry's sake. She also knew the pain she would feel each time Regina avoided her gaze, her voice cold and distant.

She needed to rethink her strategy. She needed a strategy period. She had no plan whatsoever, which was never a wise decision when facing the Mayor. She turned towards the gate and clamped down on her startled shriek. Regina stood behind her, a dark brow raised in a look she knew all too well.

"Going somewhere, Miss Swan?"

"I… I…" Emma stammered. She blinked, looking left and right. "Where did you come from?"

"I think the bigger question here is, why were you leaving?" Regina stepped forward and Emma instinctively moved back. "Did I not make myself clear this morning?"

Emma bit her lip. She wasn't exactly making herself clear now. "About the time?"

"Among other things."

The other things were where her understanding got murky. They had established that Emma had fallen through the portal and that they should talk. The lines blurred from that point on. She delighted in the Mayor's attention. She obeyed when told to eat or drink. Regina was obviously taking the lead in this situation, but Emma had no idea what that meant or how far this new dynamic went. Surely Regina wasn't reclaiming her previous authority.

Emma's heart skipped a beat. No. Regina didn't even know what all that entailed. Not yet. But…

Things are going to change between us, Emma… No matter how we move forward.

The ominous words had plagued her, bordering the line between a threat and a promise. What did they mean? Obviously she wouldn't be able to look at Regina in the same way again. There would always be moments she saw the Queen. Not to mention the intimacy they had shared. Emma had traced the dark freckles on the Queen's shoulders, trailed kisses over her abdomen, ribs and breasts…

Emma flushed and looked down.

No. She could pretend, but nothing would ever be the same. Not really.

"Emma." Regina's voice dropped to a soft whisper. Gentle fingers guided her chin, her gaze firm and commanding. "No more running."

"I'm not ready for this, Regina."

The Mayor nodded. "I don't imagine either of us are." She dropped her hand. "What you experienced at my hand is as intimidating as my forgotten memories. Probably more so."

"Are you mad?" The words slipped out on a breath of air, but they were loud enough.

Dark eyes snapped up, alarm etched in the lines of her face. "No."

Emma shook her head. "But-"

Regina lifted a hand and Emma pressed her lips together. "I'm not mad. At you."

Silence fell as Emma struggled to grasp the meaning of Regina's words. Who was she upset with? Zelena? Herself? Emma was the one who had ignored they Mayor's call that night. She was the one who had fallen through the portal and messed up her parent's lives. She was the one who got captured and put them all in danger.

Regina placed a hand on Emma's arm and squeezed. "We can talk more inside. Dinner is getting cold."

The door opened and the small of chicken assaulted Emma's taste buds. It had been too long since she had a decent meal, a fact she suspected Regina knew.

"Lemon chicken and rice," Regina explained. "I know you don't normally care for 'green things' but I also made a side of asparagus and a salad."

"Salad is good," Emma said, following Regina to the kitchen table.

"So is asparagus."

Emma wrinkled her nose. She was never big on vegetables. She blamed the foster care system. She was lucky to get real food, let alone anything healthy. Once she was out on her own, she found she didn't care for the taste, unless she slathered them with cheese or ranch dressing. She had a feeling Regina wouldn't give her that option and frowned at the generous portion placed in front of her.

"Just try it."

She picked up a stalk, pinching it between her thumb and finger. "And if I don't like it?"

"Fortunately for you, Henry loves it. He'll take your portion."

Emma's heart stilled. "Where is Henry?"

"He's at a friend's." Regina took the seat next to her. "It's just you and I tonight. I wanted there to be limited distractions. I also didn't want you to be uncomfortable… Well, more uncomfortable. I know this conversation won't be easy, but it is necessary."

Emma swallowed down the 'why?' on her tongue. She knew they needed to at least cover the logistics of what happened. If she were in Regina's shoes, she would want to know too. "Where do we start?"

"With a drink." Regina poured each of them a glass of wine. "I suspect we may need something stronger before the night is out though."

That was an understatement.

She accepted the glass, taking a generous sip followed by another and another. She set the glass back down and wiped her lips. "What exactly do you want to know?"

"For now? As much as you can tell me."

"And later?"

"First things first." Regina took a bite of chicken, chewing slowly. "Eat your dinner."

Emma picked at her plate, rolling a piece of asparagus with her fork. She was hungry. Lunch was several hours ago. She barely tasted the turkey sandwich she scarfed down while arguing with the dwarves. She had only eaten it because the woman before her insisted she should. The chicken smelt delicious, but it didn't agree with the squirming dragons in her stomach.

"I didn't meant to through the portal or get captured."

Regina snorted. "I don't think many strived to make it into my dungeon. Would you like to tell me what landed you there?"

"You can't guess?"

"The picture in the book placed you in Midas' castle. Knowing you? You could have dropped a pint of wine in my lap…." She held up her glass. "I've killed men for less."

Emma scowled, crossing her arms. "I only did that one time and it wasn't at the party."

Regina raised a brow and sipped at her drink. "The bedroom then?"

Heat flooded Emma's cheeks. "The garden."

"Ah. I must have really liked you."

Emma tilted her head, her heart picking up speed. The Queen did like her. The book had confirmed as much, but Emma knew it long before then. She was the Queen's prisoner, but she was also something more. She was just never sure what that something was. "What makes you say that?"

"I believe you know how I feel about my apple tree."

"I do." Emma dropped her eyes. The tree was a weakness she had exploited not long after her arrival to Storybrooke. She still felt a twinge of guilt eat time she passed the remains of the branch she'd destroyed.

"My garden wasn't a place I allowed just anyone. Surely you noticed."

Emma shrugged and took a bite of food. "Most of the time we spent together was in your vault or our-" She bit into the side of her cheek, wincing both at the sharp pain and her carelessness.

"Our?"

Emma stayed silent, holding her breath. She'd been here, what? Fifteen minutes? And already she'd given away far too much.

Regina pushed her plate away and dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin. "Why don't I tell you what I know."

"Didn't we already cover that this morning?"

They Mayor's lips spread thin, pearly white teeth catching the light. "I'm not talking about the timeline of events, Emma." Regina reached forward, eyes darkening as fingers brushed blonde hair back from her face. A small puff of air escaped pink lips as Regina captured her chin. "I'm talking about us."

Emma swallowed. Her breathing was shallow and much to slow for the pounding of her heart. Her head was light and fuzzy, static thoughts scatter under the Mayor's warm touch. "I don't…. We… I…."

A finger pressed to her lips and Emma stilled. "You weren't the first person I brought up from the dungeons. You also weren't the last. Though, few survived as long as you did. Do you know what that means?"

She did. The Queen had told her. "You thought I was worth your while."

"If you made it three months with me and hadn't broken, I doubt I planned to let you go. There was only one other in my history as strong as you and I'm betting you can guess who that was."

"Graham."

Regina nodded. "You know I was possessive of him. He was my prize. My huntsman."

Her face sobered and Emma looked away, giving her a moment to collect herself. She knew the regret and guilt Regina felt towards Graham. She never wanted to kill Graham and wished she hadn't. It was an impulsive decision made out of anger and fear. Emma wasn't sure how to process all the emotions behind her words, but was able to see that Regina had cared for him in her own way.

She saw it in the Enchanted Forest too, the few times she was actually allowed to interact with Graham. It wasn't often. She honestly didn't know who got more jealous in that situation. Emma seethed over their relationship, but it wasn't Graham's affection she sought this time. It was the Queen's. She hated the way she spoke to him, the pride in her eyes when she looked at him. But it was Emma she kept behind her and within arm's reach. The few times she allowed Graham to escort her, the Queen had seemed on edge and irritable after, more demanding of Emma's obedience and attention.

Graham was the only one who didn't seem to care one way or another. It took her a few weeks to remember that he probably didn't. He didn't have his heart.

"If I was as invested in you as I think, I would have done everything in my power to tie you to me. I would have taken every precaution I could think of, and if my past self had, had our history, it might have worked. But she didn't. She didn't know your proclivity for running and escaping. Otherwise, I doubt you'd be here having dinner with me."

Emma trembled. Her chicken tasted like gravel, hard and dry, scraping as she swallowed. She washed it down with a large gulp of wine. She shouldn't be in Storybrooke. Regina had to know that. She'd broken the law, committed treason. Worse she'd left someone she…

She blinked fast, her eyes stinging. "You knew I'd try."

"They always tried. Why do you think I used the methods I did? I learned each of my targets well. I found what they feared and desired and I used it against them. I created dependency, addiction through pleasure, using their deepest longings. I created unique punishments for each of them after I discovered what they desired most. I must have missed something with you."
Emma shook her head. "You knew all those things."

"Yet you're here and not in the Queen's castle."

Emma shoved from the table. "I don't want to be here!"

Silence fell, Emma's eyes widening. "I'm sorry." She turned on her heel and yelped. Magic prickled at the nape of her neck, invisible ropes ensnaring her.

Regina snapped her fingers and Emma spun. "You'll find this version of me a lot more prepared for your tactics. I may not be your Queen, Emma, but until we get this sorted out and I can trust you will take care of yourself, you're going to do as I say, starting with the rule I gave you outside. No more running. If something is troubling you, take a moment and collect yourself. But you don't run off. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Emma hissed, her shoulders tightening. She hadn't expected Regina's response, though she should have. Regina wasn't the Queen, but the monarch still lived inside her. Emma was foolish to test her limits or the Mayor's resolve.

However, she wasn't the only one overlooking information. Regina wasn't wrong about their relationship, but she was wrong about how well the Queen knew her. She had taken every measure to tie Emma to her side. She failed only for one reason. She never pieced together Emma's deepest secret: where she was from and who her family was. She never found out about Henry.

She sat at the Queen's feet, eyes closed as she rested against the Monarch's knee. The sun warmed her face, soft fingers threading her hair. They'd spent the morning in the garden, enjoying quiet companionship over breakfast. The Queen poured over paperwork. She read through stacks of letters, maps and books. Emma was content to sit at her side, watching her work. She breathed in the fresh air and the dark woman's earthy scent. Her heart felt lighter these days, free in a way she hadn't experienced in years. Alderson was gone from her life. Facing him had destroyed the ghost of his memory, pulling sharp lead from the wound he inflicted. It was healing. She was healing.

She stared up at the clouds. She hadn't let herself think too hard about Alderson's death. She was shell shocked after the images faded, her reflection returning to the shimmering glass mirror. She felt nothing though. There was no joy, anger or sadness. She hadn't even felt guilt. If anything, the sensation was best described as a door closing. The Queen had covered the grave harboring Alderson's memory. He couldn't haunt her anymore. She was protected, safe. When she fell asleep that night, tucked into the Queen's side, her other ghosts remained silent.

She dreamt of other things now: pop tarts, a fire place and Christmas music. Henry's laugh. She heard the sound clear, though it wasn't the deep gruff he'd developed over the last year. It was a high pitched squeal, followed by soft giggles. She caught him snooping under the Christmas tree, her fingers flying over his rubs as she lifted him away.

The memory wasn't real of course. It was one of the many Regina gave her after Pan's curse. It was a life she never had, but one she clung too. The sights and sounds were more real than most of her own life experiences. There were very few others she treasured, most taking place after Henry brought her to Storybrooke.

Lying in the Queen's lap, her heart fluttered. This world, this time, wasn't her own. She wasn't supposed to be there. Yet, she cherished moments like these, gentle fingers and soft lips. She was safe and cared for, more than just physically. She was the Queen's and the Queen was becoming her home. Her first real home.

After Alderson's death, the Queen kept a close eye on her. Emma accompanied her to court, sitting at her side as she delegated over peasant squabbles and criminal accusations. She was nothing like the portrayal Henry's book painted. Well, maybe not nothing. She had little tolerance for those who aided Snow White, leaving Emma to marvel at her own circumstances. The Queen was terrifying in her anger. Fire lit her eyes and flew from her finger tips. Some she incinerated on the spot. Others, she took her time with, interrogating as she held smaller flames close to their skin.

Emma had turned away, bile swirling in her gut. What had spared her life?

The Queen hadn't asked her any questions about Snow White since her initial capture, and while she wasn't exactly gentle with her questioning, Emma hadn't come close to fearing for her life. Now she was at the Queen's side. She slept in the Queen's bed. She was well fed and clothed. What the Queen had shown her was more than mercy. She didn't think there was a word for it.

Snow White was where the Queen's wrath ended. Her dealings with her citizens were just. She listened and took her time with decisions. She found solutions for those who needed food or work… She ordered troops to repair a village damaged by a bout of intense storms, and forgave a debt to a man whose daughter had suffered two weeks with fever. She was fair as far as Emma could tell, but lived by her own code. There were her lines her subjects knew better than to cross, crimes that couldn't be forgiven.

She figured it was her lack of citizenship that had saved her. She hadn't crossed a line when she helped Snow White. Others that helped the princess were subjects of the Queen. Their lack of loyalty was treason. Emma, on the other hand, wasn't from this realm, a fact the Queen had picked up on fairly quickly. What she didn't realize was that Emma's realm was also about thirty years in the future. In a town the Queen created.

Emma raked her teeth over her bottom lip. That secret was the only one she needed to keep. Both of their futures depended on it, as well as Henry's. He was more important than both of them.

In theory, the truth wasn't likely to come up. Time travel wasn't supposed to be possible. The Queen had no reason to suspect she knew Emma in the future. But, she had picked up on their connection. Emma couldn't have hidden that if she wanted to. Even with separating Regina from the Queen in her mind, her body responded to the familiarity of the woman. She found herself, on occasion, bantering with the woman and even rolling her eyes. The Queen hadn't notice the latter, which was fortunate. She didn't think she would be able to explain her actions.

There were too many moments… There were too many mannerisms and facial expressions, too many touches and phrases that were uniquely Regina, no matter what form she took. Emma saw her friend, someone she shared a son with and cared for. Family. She saw it whether she wanted to or not, and it had given her away. The Queen was asking questions. Thankfully, how they knew each other wasn't one of them. Yet…

She stared up at the Queen's face. Brown eyes met her own, patient and waiting. She hadn't pestered her about Alderson, but Emma knew the conversation was coming. The question was easy enough. How many homes had she lived in…? There were too many to count, but she tried, skimming through addresses and neighborhoods. What she worried about was what questions her answer would spark. She had far worse demons than Alderson, trapped in steal cages. She didn't want the Queen to go looking for them.

"On average…" Emma pursed her lips, counting her fingertips as she rounded the number. "About two a year from the time I was three."

She stared into the branches, letting the words fall from her lips as if she were talking about apples and not the homes she never had.

"Your parents died?"

Emma's heart jumped to her throat.

It's a logical question, Swan.

"No."

Brows furrowed as the Queen processed, trying to understand another world, one without magic or fairy godmothers. Of course she didn't know that.

"What happened when you were three?"

Emma shut her eyes and breathed deep. Warm fingers traced her eyes, smoothing lines. "I never knew my parents…" She paused and then added, "growing up. I didn't know who they were or where I was from. There was a possibility they were dead. As a kid, I sometimes hoped they were. It was easier to accept than being abandoned."

"What do you mean?"

"I was found on a dirt road, wrapped in a blanket. I was only a day old, maybe? The blanket was knitted with my name and flowers. I thought someone mist have care to make something like that, but the how could they leave me there? They didn't even take me to a fire station. The just left me on in the cold to die."

Lips pressed to her forehead. The Queen didn't say anything. She held her close and waited.

Just pretend you're reading a book, or a profile on a case you're working, Emma told herself. They're just words.

"In my world, the government has a system in place for children with crappy parents. The problem is, a lot of the homes kids get placed in are just as bad or worse than the ones they left."

"This, Alderson man…. He was one of them?"

Emma nodded. "He might not have been so horrible if I were younger. I'd been through too many homes by that point. I had too many problems. Night terrors. Stealing. Food usually. You'd be surprised how many fosters forget to feed you or just withhold food for 'bad' behavior."

"No. I wouldn't."

Emma tilted her head. The Queen's voice was resolute, as if she spoke from experience, but Emma had never had a meal taken away. She may not always choose to eat but the food was always there. Even when she made a mistake, the Queen fed her and fed her well. Maybe she had used that technique with other people? There were a fair few in the dungeons.

"So your government gave you to another family?"

"The first one wasn't that bad. They wanted me at first. Then they had a miracle. A baby of their own. They decided there wasn't room for me and sent me back."

The Queen stiffened. "One child? They had one child and though it too much? Villagers in this world have a half dozen kids and manage just fine."

Emma swallowed, her throat tight. She had similar thoughts over the years. How could they have really loved her if they sent her back? She loved them, and she hated them for that. It had taken years for her to stop calling for them in her sleep. She woke up soaked in tears and urine, to the dismay of her new foster family.

How could the Queen love her prisoner more than the people who claimed she was their child?

Emma didn't have an answer for that. She didn't even know if the Queen really did care for her. Love seemed like a strong word, but she was wanted and that was something.

"After that, I bounced from home to home. I don't think I lived anywhere for more than six months. The older I was, the worse it got."

"And each of them hurt you?"

Emma shrugged. "Not always physically."

The Queen inhaled slowly, her dark eyes distant and clouded. "Physical pain does the least amount of damage, I find. Those scars heal more quickly."

"It doesn't really matter." Emma stood, wondering through the trees. "The past is the past."

"If only it were that simple." She crooked her finger. "Return to me, please."

Emma paused, toing the line between obedience and insubordination. Her blood tingled, tiny needles jabbing inside her arms and legs. The conversation was making her restless. She had tried to stay detached, speaking words as if telling a story that had nothing to do with her. But it did. It was her story. It was her pain, anger and her shame.

Heat flared in her chest. She had no reason to be ashamed. She had done thing wrong. It was the foster families who should feel dirty and unwanted. It didn't work that way though.

"I don't think I can talk about this anymore."

"Then listen." The Queen held out her hand and lifted a brow. "Come to me, Emma. Trust me."

Trust. There was that word again. It was such a simple concept, yet held so much weight. She was stupid to trust after everything she'd been through. She knew better. She was an expert at keeping people at arm's length, except the woman in front of her. She took the offered and, letting the Queen pulled her near. "Untie me."

"Un…tie… you?"

The brunette turned, offering the velvet laces holding her dress.

Emma didn't move. The Queen never let anyone touch her without perfect control. Not her soldiers or even the servants. While she dressed and undressed Emma, she didn't allow anyone to offer her the same luxury. She changed in a puff of smoke and disrobed the same way.

"My Queen?" Emma questioned, voice rising.

"It's okay."

"We're outside."

"I've sealed the garden." Gentle hands guided Emma to the laces. "Untie me."

Emma took a deep breath, her hand trembling as the knots slipped free and the dress loosened. The Queen dipped her shoulder, sheer sleeves gliding over tanned skin. The dress fell free. The brunette stayed still. Velvet pooled at her feet as Emma's eyes devoured the woman before her.

"What do you see?"

Emma opened her mouth, words catching in her throat. Her tongue was dry and suddenly too big for her mouth. Her eyes traveled down the Queen's back, a perfect combination of soft curves and muscle. Her waist dipped in, curling like a wave over hips and thighs. "I…"

"Focus, dear."

"Beauty." The word was a reverential whisper, tugging the Queen's lips into a bemused smile.

"Is that focusing, Emma?"

She inhaled and blinked, nostrils flaring. The smell of apples was tinted with muse, he scent of arousal. Emma closed her eyes and clenched her thighs. She was very focused, but obviously not on what the queen wanted. She owed her that much at least. If the Queen was willing to make herself vulnerable…

Emma's eyes flew open. "Are you crazy?"

The Queen was still faced away from her, back exposed. "Pardon?"

"You shouldn't be standing here like this. Someone could hurt you. I could hurt you!"

The Queen turned and Emma forced her gaze to remain on the woman's face, "I find it unlikely," the Queen stepped closer and Emma's heart stuttered, "that someone so concerned with my welfare would try to harm me," she husked.

"You don't know that."

"Oh?" Long lashes fluttered. "Then go ahead. I'm giving you permission this once, Emma. You want to hurt me? Go ahead."

"No."

"There'll be no repercussions. I give you my word. Though I cannot promise I won't fight back."

Hot breath tickled Emma's cheeks. They were close, the Queen's naked torso pressed against her chest. If she leaned forward, their lips would touch. As it was, the Queen's pupils were blown wide, eclipsing chocolate irises. The air around them was charged. If she kissed her, the Queen would take her, here in the grass. Emma wanted to let her, but the undercurrent in the woman's words stopped her. There was more going on than simple lust.

She kept still, allowing the Queen to trace the skin of her neck. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Are you sure?" A sharp nail dug into the crevice between her collarbones. "You won't get another chance."

"I don't want a chance." The Queen held her gaze, searching the sincerity of her words. It was a test. A test she passed. She wasn't lying. She never had wanted to hurt the Queen. Not even during the first couple weeks as the woman trained and conditioned her. She was Regina, or would be one day. Emma never wanted to see her hurt. And now? After the last month together? "Did you really think I'd take that offer?"

"No."

The Queen pressed their mouths together, her tongue claiming as she nipped and sucked. Her hands pinned Emma to the tree, bark scratching at her back. She didn't care. The Queen's touch was electric fire, stirring her need and desire. And something more, something Emma wasn't ready to think about. It was a mixture of emotions, loyalty and devotion combining with her passion.

The Queen pulled back and Emma leaned her head against the tree, panting and breathless.

"I didn't think you'd take my offer…"

"Then why-"

"Because I need to know you are mine. I need to know that you won't try and use what I'm going to share with you, Emma."

"Haven't I always been yours?" The Queen had made her position clear the moment she left the dungeon. Emma had no say and no power outside what the Queen allowed her. She belonged to her alone.

The Queen placed a hand on her heart. "I need to know you are mine, here."

Emma's face paled, shock chilling her blood. What the Queen was asking had nothing to do with her being a prisoner and everything to do with the feelings she knew better than to really explore.

"Are you mine, Em-ma? Can I trust you?"

"Yes." She cleared her throat and added. "You can trust me."

The Queen tilted her head, a soft smirk on her lips. "Are you mine?"

She bit her lip and glanced away.

"You're afraid, aren't you?"

"No." She wished the Queen would back away. The feel of her body fogged her mind, making it hard to focus. The scent of the Queen's magic danced on her tongue, enticing and intoxicating. She wanted to give in, to answer her every question and indulge in the Queen's reward. She couldn't do that. Could she? Giving herself to the Queen meant opening herself to the woman completely. Opening herself to pain and abandonment. Wasn't that how it always went? As long as she didn't love them too hard, they would stay. The minute she got to close, it was all over.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe she should let herself love the Queen. The Queen would let her go. Or kill her.

She promised she wouldn't, the small voice said.

That was true. She had promised. She had kept all of her promises so far. That terrified Emma more. If she gave the Queen her heart, she wouldn't want to leave. She already struggled with the idea of having to return to her own time. If she let herself truly love, she feared she never would.

"You know how I feel about lying, Emma," the Queen pressed.

"I'm not lying. I'm not afraid of you."

"No. You're not afraid of me. You're afraid of your feelings for me." The Queen took a step back and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. "That's all I needed to know."

Emma didn't have a chance to respond. The Queen turned around, glancing back over her shoulder. "What do you see?"

She swallowed allowing her gaze to trail over the Queen's spine. She wasn't sure what the Queen expected her to see that she hadn't already noticed. She devoured the woman during their nightly intimacies, touching each birthmark or freckle, tracing every curve and….

A shimmer rippled in the sunlight, jagged lines surfacing as the glamour faded away. Scars. Dozens of them. They crisscrossed the Queen's back, painting a stitched pattern of varying sizes and colors. Most were small and white, others had healed pink and were nearly the width of her pinky.

"What… who?"

Emma tried to find the words, tentatively touching the old wounds. Who would have done this to her? Certainly not her grandfather. She knew he wasn't the saint Snow painted him as, but this? Her blood recoiled at the thought, revolting against her own heritage. She had never wanted the 'White' name, or her title as princess. She was the Savior and that was enough. If her grandfather did this, she would renounce her family connection too. Let Snow live in her fantasy land. If her father had done this, Emma would make sure when she returned that he was never a good man and a deceitful king.

"My mother."

The words iced her rising temperature, freezing her in place. At least for a moment. She knew Cora. She had met Cora. The woman was cold and merciless when it came to her ambitions. She knew her relationship with Regina was strained but she had never imagined something like this. "Your mother?"

The Queen nodded and the glamour reappeared. "Yes." She stepped back into her dress, pulling the fabric back into place. She presented the laces to Emma, allowing her to tighten the corset. "My mother had a lot of ideas on what made a Lady. Even more so on what made a Queen. She set impossible standards and the consequences for failure…. Were harsh."

Emma finished the knot at the small of the Queen's back and turned her around. Brown eyes met hers, but Emma saw no sadness or regret. She saw resignation and resolve, and the strength she had always associated with her son's other mother. "I didn't know."

Brows furrowed. "How could you have? No one knows, Emma. Except my father."

"Wait. He knew? And he didn't try to stop it?"

The Queen cupped her cheek, stilling her movements. "He did. At first. He has no magic and was really no match for my mother. He hurt him too and then punished me worse for his involvement."

"She whipped you." The marks were obvious. Cora had taken a leather strap to her child.

"She did. And to make sure the lesson sank in, she didn't heal the wounds."

Emma turned away, clutching at a tree branch to remain standing. Her muscles trembled, straining as they fought to propel her into motion. She understood now what Regina had done with the mirror, why she had killed Alderson. In that moment, she wanted to rip Cora's heart out herself. Except, Cora never had a heart. She hid it away so she wouldn't have to feel her daughter's pain. She didn't have to care.

"Was power really worth that much?"

The Queen sat back on the bench. "To my mother it was."

Emma glanced at her. "And to you?"

"I never wanted to be Queen."

No. Regina wanted to have love and a family. She wanted the stable boy. And she'd lost all of it because her mother's greed. Because love and a family weren't enough for her.

"There were other punishments. No meals was a common one. Especially if she thought I was putting on too much weight. Hurting people I cared about: friends, my nanny. You're not the only one who has learned not to get too close, Emma." She crooked her finger. "Come here."

Emma shuffled forward, seating herself on the bench next to the Queen. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I have demons too. Several of them. But I was fortunate growing up. I only had the devil I knew to contend with. What you faced, well were you in my kingdom, each of your 'families' would stand trial. I can't do that for you, but I can help set you free. Would you like to know what happened to my mother?"

Emma did know. Regina had told her. She shoved Cora through a mirror where she became the Queen of Hearts in Wonderland. Still, she nodded.

"I confronted her. With a mirror. Just like you. She made the mistake of thinking I'd never grow stronger than her. Your families made the same mistake. You are stronger than them. You're strong enough to face them and defeat them, and so long as you're mine, you will always have me behind you, to catch and protect you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." The Queen's lips brushed her in a flurry of soft kissed, arms holding her near. "You can talk to me. I want you to know that. You can tell me anything and I promise to be there for you. I won't use it against you or exploit the secrets you give me, Emma."

Emma swallowed. "I know."

"Do you?"

"I know I don't always seem forth-coming, but like you've said, I've learned not to trust, or let others close. They always leave when I do."

"I'm not leaving."

"No." The Queen would always be in her life in one form or another.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

There were too many things. Too many secrets. Secrets she could never share and suddenly she wanted to. She wanted to tell the Queen about their future and their son. She wanted to tell her how much she missed Henry. She missed his smile and his laugh. She missed how much he believed in the impossible, his kindness and spirit. Each trait was a stone in her gut. Their son was remarkable. The Queen should know him.

She will.

Emma took a deep breath. The Queen would know him one day. If she got back to the present… Besides she was keeping a bigger secret than that. She was the daughter of Snow White, the Queen's greatest enemy, pretending to be someone else. She should have been honest long before now, long before the Queen revealed so much of herself. She'd given Emma a piece of her soul and Emma couldn't give her anything in return. She couldn't tell her anything that really mattered.

You gave her me, a small voice whispered.

That was true. She'd given the Queen the most fragile part of herself, the place inside her no one else had ever seen. She'd given her the child she'd locked away and the most vulnerable part of the savior, the part that wasn't a savior at all. She'd given the Queen the lost girl she kept inside.

"This is the only place I've ever considered home." It wasn't a lie, but the words tasted bitter in her mouth. There was so much more she needed to tell the Queen. She never could. She never could be the Queen's. Not completely. Not like she wanted to be.

Emma stared in to Regina's eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You knew me, Regina. You knew what I desired. You know my greatest joys and worst fears. You saw my demons and fought them. And I was yours. I was. But you didn't know about Henry. I didn't tell you and that's why I'm here."

Magic fell away and Emma sank to the Marble floor, clutching her chest. The guilt she'd buried surfaced, flooding the damn she'd kept it confined inside. She knew Regina was standing over her but it was the Queen's face she pictured above her, shocked and angered by her admission. After everything they had shared, after all the Queen had told her, Emma had kept the most important secret of all.

"You didn't know about Henry and you didn't know my relationship with Snow White."

She cringed over the last word, waiting for the harsh words that would finally condemn her to the fate she knew she deserved. She had made an irreversible mistake and not wanted.

She felt more than heard Regina drop to the floor next to her. She cupped Emma's face on both sides, her fingers tangling in blonde locks. "Emma, listen to me." She waited, holding tight as Emma's breathing slowed. Slowly she lifted her face until their eyes met. "You did the right thing."

Emma shook her head. "I didn't, I-"

"You did, Emma. If I had known about Henry….. Our world as we know it would be gone. The Queen, I was impulsive. I would have wanted Henry as much as I wanted you. I wouldn't have waited."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

Emma straightened. "How? Regina, you don't even have your memories."

"I think we need to fix that."

Emma paled, her heart lodging in her throat. "What?"

Regina held out her hand, helping Emma to her feet. "Come on. I think we could both use another drink."