A/N: Hey all, author's note at the beginning this time! I just wanted to let you know that this chapter is a shorter one, due to the fact that I've had a busy week with preparing for the new school year. Next week's chapter might be of similar length because I anticipate things being just as hectic, but hopefully after things will go smoother and I'll get back on a schedule. I also wanted to say how flattered I am with the follows/reviews I have gotten - seriously, you guys are the best!
(Before the Sun Goes Down) You Will Find It All Unraveled: Chapter 11
"What's with you and fire anyway?"
"Hmm?"
"These exercises we've been doing – they've all basically had to do with fire," Emma explained, keeping careful eyes on the sparks that were dancing atop her palms, "You like a pyro or something?"
Regina scoffed and folded her arms, leaning back in the chair that sat across from the blonde.
"Don't be ridiculous. We use fire because it's intimidating and it's one of the more natural forms that raw magic can take."
Emma's gaze flickered momentarily up at Regina before focusing again on what she was doing, "So what you're saying is, it's an easy scare-tactic for a beginner like me to learn?"
"Fine deduction, Ms. Swan. Also, it's quite useful with matters of control. You don't learn to control your magic, you're likely to burn yourself."
Emma snorted, but managed to create a solid little flame in the center of her hand. Lessons had resumed after Regina had had a day to nurse her hangover, and honestly, it was as if nothing had happened to knock them off track. Except, it had happened, and Emma didn't want to pretend that it didn't, and it sort of disturbed her that Regina so easily could. The Sheriff even found herself wondering what else Regina might be pretending about.
"Yeah, sure, Your Majesty. I still say you're a pyro. Ouch – shit, you weren't kidding about the burning," Emma yelped at her own hand, the little flame there shrinking into one of even lesser danger in response.
"Crap. I think your magic did that on purpose, it doesn't like me."
"Can you blame it?"
Emma could've sworn she heard a smirk in that comment but when she looked back up at Regina, the woman's face was a perfect, blank mask.
"You're hilarious, really, have you done stand-up?" Emma quipped back and the brunette across from her rolled her eyes. After a moment to renew her concentration, Emma had conjured up a sizable fireball once again, but the flare was finicky; it spurted and crackled and twisted in on itself, looking less like a sphere and more like something out of a messy, miniature fire pit.
Regina sighed, sliding forward to eye Emma's progress, "Shush. Concentrate on keeping the flames tight and together, swirling around in a perfect ball."
Emma let out a little huff and squinted harder at the fire in her hand. Regina shook her head and corrected, "Concentrating does not equate to squinting, Ms. Swan. The only thing squinting is going to accomplish is giving you wrinkles. Just clear your mind and give the task at hand your full attention."
"Right. As if you'd know about wrinkles – you haven't aged in almost thirty years. Which… wait, how old does that make you?"
"Not as old as you'd think, and yet too old to be dealing with you," Regina retorted, though it lacked much bite.
"There's that humor again, see, you should be a comedian."
"Ms. Swan."
"Yeah, I know, the fireball. Focusing."
Emma closed her eyes momentarily before taking a breath and opening them again. She let her mind clear and held on to the feeling of magic pulling at the skin on her palms, materializing into hot plasma before her. She watched the flames round back in on themselves, helping the mass become slightly more compact, but the shape was still imperfect.
"You've almost got it," the brunette commented softly, and she leaned in closer, bringing her hands under Emma's and prompting them to curve and cup the flare.
When her hands had come into contact with Emma's, the blonde could feel the magic in motion reflexively surge through her veins. Emma's lips parted at the sensation; it was as if Regina's magic was more than ready and willing to comply if Regina was physically there to help it along. The flames smoothed out, molding together and spinning until they moved in a perfect spherical shape.
"Whoa," Emma breathed, watching the fireball. It felt strong, and it made Emma feel accomplished even though she knew, somehow, Regina had a lot to do with her success. The magic knew Regina, responded to Regina, belonged to Regina, and Emma could feel that in every pulse of the energy she was using. It was a truly peculiar experience, and not (if Emma was being completely honest) an altogether bad one.
"Can…do you feel that?" She whispered, her eyes flitting up to look at Regina. At the blonde's question, however, the other woman pulled her hands carefully away. Emma felt a bit of spark dwindle at the loss of contact, but focused on keeping her energy locked on its task, and the fireball stayed full and round.
"No," Regina muttered, her gaze steady on the magic Emma was maintaining. The Sheriff's lie-detector went off, but she kept the fire going, and even levitated the ball an inch or so before extinguishing it with a low sizzle.
She cleared her throat, rubbed her palms on her jeans, and asked, "So, uh, how was that?"
Snapping out of her reverie, the former mayor blinked and responded, "Well done. Though I expect if you'd done more concentrating and less talking, you'd have managed it a lot faster."
Emma merely hummed and sat back a bit farther on the couch, flexing her fingers and giving them both a quiet moment as the air around them seemed to settle.
"I have a question," she stated after an adequate amount of settling had passed.
"Yes, Ms. Swan?"
"How do most people get magic?"
"Magic can be learned, if taught properly. It can be given by other powerful beings. And in certain cases, it can be born within a person, innate to their being."
"But you didn't give me your magic," Emma mused.
"No, of course not. I have no earthly idea how you've come into possession with it."
"And were you… were you born with magic?"
Regina paused to considered the blonde – Emma could see the wheels turning in her head, and she knew that the brunette was assessing Emma's motives behind her questions. Emma, though, merely looked back expectantly with a look that she hoped was naturally curious because the fact was that she still felt pretty damned clueless when it came to matters of both magic and the former Evil Queen.
"No," Regina finally clipped out, "I was taught it."
"By whoever also used it against you?"
Regina froze, and Emma knew she had crossed a line. She hadn't meant for it to come out like that, or for it to seem like she was trying to manipulate the other woman. It was just that Emma had seen the look that had came over Regina's face when the blonde had had her magically pinned to the wall; it was a look of dreaded familiarity, a fearful flash back to something she had perhaps experienced before.
"I'm sorry," the Sheriff quickly amended, "I don't mean to pry, it's just… the way you reacted the other day reminded me of… ah, forget it, I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, you shouldn't have," Regina intoned stoically. She folded her hands in her lap and turned her head slightly so her eyesight was anywhere but on Emma, "it would do well for you to remember not to assume after things that you know nothing about."
"I guess not, no," Emma said with a sigh, "but I do, I do know that look. That look that says 'someone's hurt me so badly that I'll never forget it. That someone's used me.' I've even worn that look, I just thought maybe -,"
"No," Regina repeated, cutting her off, "we're not doing this. There are no 'maybes,' Ms. Swan. We are not friends, and I do hope you haven't gotten it into your head that we will become friends after all of this. We have a deal, nothing more."
Emma tilted her head and peered at Regina for a solid minute or two – at least enough time to make Regina feel adequately bothered that the blonde seemed to be silently searching for something with her eyes (something about Regina that, the brunette presumed, was something worth hiding away).
"Why is it so hard to believe that somebody else might actually want to understand you?"
Sometimes, when they bantered back and forth like they had been earlier, Emma thought that they very well could be friends. And sometimes Emma even thought she could understand Regina, or at least bits and pieces of her. Just enough for brief flashes of recognition, but unfortunately not enough to be able to see an entire picture. Emma could identify with what it was like to constantly feel the need to protect yourself, to throw up walls a thousand feet high and hope to god no one is meaningful enough to break through, but Emma also knew that way of dealing only went so far. But Regina was difficult. A part of Emma then realized that perhaps Regina felt the need to keep up expectations – to maintain the persona of the cold queen who disdainfully detached from all others. That same part of Emma also wanted to remind the Evil Queen of her humanity, how she didn't have to live up to any expectations (because lord knew that Emma didn't feel herself living up to anything as important as a 'savior'), but Regina was right. They weren't friends.
Regina, for her part, only lost hold of her mask for a second before her mouth twisted downward and her eyes narrowed.
"Because magic isn't the only thing that comes at a price," she said scornfully.
"Now practice perfecting the fireball once more, and we'll move on."
A/N #2: Next week expect to see what Gold is up to as well as more Regina/Emma interactions as they learn more about each other than they expected.
Let me know what you think!
-mirroredhearts