Chapter 21

A/N: Sorry about the delay guys. The worst thing is, I've had this chapter written for weeks, I just haven't been able to bring myself to post it. I'm not at all happy with it, but I eventually realised that for the sake of the story I have to publish this chapter and move along. Will try and post faster now that this block is past me. Big thanks to Secrets4theunderground, Anny Rodrigues, SarenRose, freedomqueen, evilwoolgrill, bloodymary2, Romula Linders, EllieMayDay, Guest1 and Guest2 for your reviews!

Snow was in the kitchen when David got home, carrying Henry heavily over one shoulder as he nudged his way through the front door with the other.

"Hey," he called, taking Henry to the bedroom he was currently sharing with Emma and depositing him on the bed. Henry barely stirred, rolling onto his side and snuggling into his pillow with a small sigh. David allowed himself a brief, affectionate smile as he stared down at his grandson. He loved this feeling; the peace that watching Henry sleep brought him – these were the kind of moments he had never had with Emma. Briefly, he considered the fact that it was because of Regina that he had lost that time with his daughter, but the old feelings of rage and injustice such a thought had once conjured refused to surface. He only felt a sort of weary sadness – both at the choices she had made, and whatever events had led to such choices. He was almost certain that he didn't have the whole story of Regina's past. It was something that he still held hope she would share with him, perhaps someday down the line when he had earned that level of trust from her. He reached out, pushing a strand of light brown hair from Henry's forehead absently as his mind lingered on thoughts of Regina and the future he hoped they might share, once all of this was behind them. A moment later, a loud sound of something metallic falling to the ground filled the room and he was jerked from his reverie.

"Damn it!" Snow yelled. David winced, walking out of the bedroom and hesitantly approaching his wife. She was crouched on the ground, distractedly wiping up the remnants of spaghetti sauce that had spilt from the saucepan to the floor with a cloth, whilst she cradled her other hand against her chest.

"Snow?" Something smelt burnt – from the smell he guessed it to be the meatballs. She lifted her head to him, green eyes burning with anger and frustration. He knelt in front of her, a pang of guilt and remorse flooding through him as he reached for her injured hand. He still loved her. She was his first real love, the mother of his child… he didn't think he would ever not care for her. He hated himself for what he was doing, he hated himself for hurting her. He turned her hand over gently, examining the small burn mark on the side. There was no going back though. Even if he chose to stay with Snow, he knew he would never be able to shake away the inexplicable connection he now felt with Regina, the feeling that somehow they were meant to have been together, despite what the fairy tales had to say. There was no going back. All he could do was try to get through this mess with minimal casualties.

"Where have you been all day?" Snow asked, as he rose to his feet and moved to the freezer in search of something frozen. His hand froze briefly in the act, his fingers resting against the white metal door before he forced himself to open it and retrieve a packet of peas.

"At Gold's shop," he said, deciding that the truth would be best. "Regina wanted to see if there was anything there that could help break the Dark One's curse."

"So you were with Regina?" something dark flashed across Snow's expression.

"Snow, she's trying to help," he murmured, crouching down in front of her again and pressing the peas to her hand.

"Help?" Snow demanded, ripping the frozen veg from his grasp. The packet fell to the floor between them with a wet plop. "When has Regina ever helped?" she asked. "The only reason she wants to break this curse is because she's afraid of me! She doesn't want my powers getting in the way of her evil schemes."

"That's ridiculous," David said, his voice rising angrily at the accusation. He stood up suddenly and Snow followed suit, her expression furious. Distantly, David realised that she had been itching for such an argument from the moment he had stepped inside the house. He should have seen the signs sooner. Not so long ago, he would have known how to avoid such an altercation altogether. Now he had blundered straight into it.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?!" Snow's voice raised by an octave. "Have you forgotten what that woman has done to us? Have you forgotten who she is? She's not to be trusted David! She's not your friend; she doesn't want to help us…"

"How do you know that?" he cut across her, almost yelling now. "How do you know what she wants?"

"I know exactly what she wants… Don't you see? She wants to get inside your head so she can rip us apart. She's always wanted that. There's nothing good inside of her anymore."

"For God's sake Snow!" David suddenly yelled, causing Snow to flinch at the anger in his voice. "Do you really want to start pointing fingers her way after you tricked her into killing her own mother? You cursed Cora's heart and handed it to Regina, knowing exactly what it would do."

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Snow went rigid, the colour draining from her pale features. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were lost at the sound of Henry's voice.

"She did what?"

It felt as though the world had suddenly dropped out from beneath David's feet. He spun around, meeting Henry's wide hazel gaze fearfully. His grandson was standing at the doorway to Emma's room, his hair still sleep tousled, his face pale and angry.

"Henry…" he started, with absolutely no idea of what he could say.

"You… you lied," Henry said, his voice shaking slightly. "You said it was an accident. You said that Snow felt responsible but that it hadn't been her fault! You all lied to me!"

"Henry please," Snow suddenly found her voice, moving closer to her grandson, but Henry stumbled back at her approach.

"Stay away from me!" he yelled. "You're a liar! And a murderer!"

Snow gasped softly, shaking her head at the accusation. "No… you don't understand, Henry please," she reached for him but he jerked away from her again, this time fleeing toward the front door.

"Snow stop," David grabbed her arm, preventing her from following after their grandson as he ran down the stairs, leaving the door open in his wake.

"No! No, we have to fix this! He's going to hate me! I have to talk to him!"

"He's not going to want to listen to anything we have to say," David said quietly. "I'll call Emma. He's probably heading her way right now."

Snow turned around to face him, her pale cheeks streaked with tears.

"How could you say those things, David?" she whispered. "You know how I feel about what happened to Cora. And now Henry knows…"

"I know," David said quietly, raking his hand back through his short hair. "I'm sorry Snow. I should never have brought that up…"

"But you did," Snow said. "You used something that would hurt me to defend the Evil Queen. What has happened to you David?"

He stared at her in silence, unable to come up with an answer. He couldn't keep doing this, lying and pretending. Wasn't this causing more harm to Snow than simply telling her the truth would?

Snow shook her head, turning away from him and walking back to the kitchen.

"I'm going to phone Emma," she mumbled. "Maybe she knows how to clean up this mess."

…

Regina would have given anything to dash upstairs and change out of the simple grey bathrobe that she was dressed in, feeling all too vulnerable in the thin wrap around material that cut off at her knees, beads of water from her shower still dripping down her bare legs. But she'd already invited the three men inside, and any move to change her clothes now would have been a sign of weakness on her part, an admittance to the uneasiness she was feeling. And so she deliberately kept her hands at her sides, refusing to fold her arms across her chest as she turned to face her guests. Baldie was grinning at her lecherously, in a way that left her with no doubts that he was busy imagining her sans the robe. George was smiling at her coldly, his eyes lingering as he stared her up and down. The only one who wasn't mentally undressing her seemed to be the tall, dark skinned stranger that had followed the first two in. It was he who had magic, she realised, dark eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

"I know you," she murmured, a wave of recognition hitting her suddenly.

"Surprising," he replied, in a heavily accented voice. "The last time you saw me, you were barely three years old. I was the court wizard at your grandfather's castle."

Back before the war, Regina thought.

Her mother had told her the story of her family's downfall, of the kingdom that might have been hers, had things been different. Not long after she had been born, a plague had struck the land, killing many of the soldiers in her grandfather's army. The king of the neighbouring land had taken advantage of their weakness and waged a war against them. By her third birthday, her grandfather had died in battle and her father had surrendered, having agreed to renounce all claims to his throne in exchange for his family's life. They'd moved to a small manor house in King Midas's kingdom, where Regina had grown up. The stories Cora had told her of the kingdom they had lost had never really felt real to her, and yet here, standing in her foyer, was living proof that she had once been the heir to a kingdom of her own.

She stared at him, silently, her thoughts racing as she tried to piece together what was going on, why George had brought this man to her.

"Where are my manners?" the stranger asked suddenly. "You probably do not remember my name. I am Armand."

"I don't care who you are," Regina said, finding her voice. She turned to George. "What exactly do you want?"

"I think this would be easier if Armand explained his story first," George said, shrugging. "I think once you hear what he has to say, you'll understand exactly what it is I want from you."

"Do you have anything to drink?" the bald guy demanded. Regina turned back to him, her eyes narrowing in distaste. She remembered him now - as the disfigured monster he had been in the Enchanted Forest.

"Gorem," she said, his name coming to her suddenly.

"They call me Frank here," he said conversationally, grinning at her. Regina stared at him coldly, remembering suddenly what it was about this man that had once made him so dangerous to her. For reasons unknown to her, the man was naturally impervious to magic. Fireballs, lightning, whatever... none of it made him even flinch. Not that she had ever tried. Rumplestiltskin had warned her of the man's unique ability and Regina had always been smart enough to know when to avoid a fight. When it came to the darker creatures of her world, she had preferred to manipulate them. To use them for her own gain, disposing of them only when they lost their value to her.

"What would you like to drink, Frank?" she asked, turning away and leading the way into her living room. Her bare feet were silent against her wooden floors, a contrast to the heavy footfalls of the men following her.

"I'm easy," he responded cheerfully. "Long as it has alcohol in it."

"Apple cider it is then," she muttered beneath her breath.

"Would that be your famous apple cider?" Armand asked. "I'd happily try a glass, Your Majesty."

Great, Regina thought, filling two tumblers with the amber liquid. You'll be easier to deal with once you're drunk.

"Scotch for me," George told her, in answer to her enquiring glance. She poured his drink and handed it to him, then took the two apple ciders and held them out. Armand took both from her, handing Frank his with a dark glance. His disdain for the larger man had been apparent from the moment he'd stepped inside her house - what surprised her was the almost protective manner in which he had prevented her from passing Frank his glass.

"Alright," she said, gesturing for the three men to sit. She remained standing, too uneasy to take a seat with them. "I'm listening."

"How to begin?" Armand hummed thoughtfully, lifting the cider to his lips and taking a measured sip. His eyes widened. "This cider is amazing!" he announced, lifting his glass as though in a toast.

"Focus wizard," George muttered.

"Oh, right," he smiled at Regina sheepishly. "I suppose I should start by explaining my particular talents to you. You see, in addition to being a wizard, I also happen to be particularly sensitive to magical energy."

His words were like a bucket of icy water being dumped upon her head. In them she could hear the echoes of the words Nakoma had spoken to her, and suddenly, she knew exactly what this was about.

"Your magic, especially, has been of interest to me since the day you were born," Armand continued, obliviously. "The first time I saw you... I could scarcely believe such power could be contained within a mere infant."

Regina felt a prickle rush down her spine. Her eyes flicked briefly to George, finding his pale eyes upon her, alight with interest.

"I had planned to steal you away from the castle," Armand carried on. "It was obvious that Cora knew nothing of what you were. Nothing of what you could do. Her greatest ambition for you was to become a queen, but you were born for greater things. I knew that. I would have raised you myself, but the night I was to take you away I discovered I was not the only one interested in your remarkable gifts."

"Rumplestiltskin," Regina guessed and he nodded.

"I had never seen such rage from the Dark One before that night. I was certain he was going to kill me. Instead, he merely took you from my arms, and offered me a deal."

I held you in my arms, Rumplestiltskin's voice echoed mockingly in her head. You were younger. More portable. She shuddered.

"This is good stuff," Frank said, examining his near empty glass.

"There's more on the sideboard," Regina said absently. "What was the deal?"

"I was never to tell anyone what I knew of your magic, and I was to use my abilities to hide your gifts from anyone else like me, who would be able to sense them. In exchange, he would let me live."

"You're doing a great job of keeping to that deal," she said sarcastically.

"Rumplestiltskin's deals no longer stand. He's dead," George said, with obvious relish. "The moment Armand discovered that, he came to me."

"And what do you want?" Regina asked icily, turning back to him.

"I've been gathering followers since this curse broke. Did you honestly believe I intended to let my fool son and his wife rule this town uncontested?"

"I rule this town," Regina felt compelled to point out. "And David's not your son."

"All that remained," George continued, as though she had not interrupted. "Was to find a way to tip the balance. The Charmings are not without allies, and Rumplestiltskin was always an unknown entity. Had I started a war, I was in no way certain which side he would pick."

Regina smirked coldly, even as another prickle of fear crawled down her spine.

"So you want to add my powers to your cause. It sounds to me like you need me, more than I need you."

"Now that's where you're mistaken," Armand said gently. "I told you that your magic is unique, but I did not explain how. I hold the key to unlocking your abilities, my dear queen. Rumplestiltskin, for all of his power, had no idea how to train you, nor did he care. You were a kept Falcon, hooded all your life so you never knew you could fly, never knew you had the potential to be so much more than simply his pet."

"I was not his pet," Regina said, bristling. And I don't need your help, she added silently. I have enough magic to keep you idiots in line and that's all that matters. "I already rule this town. Why would I help you take over?" she added, turning back to George.

"Because you're not really ruling at all," he responded. "Not truly. This town is no longer yours, but it could be ours."

"And what's to stop me from simply killing you? I'm not accustomed to sharing George."

Frank cleared his throat, smiling widely at her as her eyes met his. "Of course," Regina sighed. "So this is why you've got dumbie following you around," she said to George. "He's your bodyguard."

"Against him, you're nothing but a woman in a bathrobe - quite powerless."

Hardly, Regina thought, returning Frank's smile with a glare. He's immune to magic. That does not stop me from shoving a sword through his chest. Not exactly her forte, though. It was time to start practicing again, she decided. Maybe she could join in the next time David gave Henry a sword lesson.

"I'm waiting for a decision Regina," George said calmly.

"Very well," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "No."

"No?"

"You heard me. I have no interest in your little scheme to take over my town George. I have no interest in your supposed insight to my magical abilities," she added, glancing over at Armand. "Now, if that was all you wanted, I think you should leave."

George glanced down at his hand, silently examining his nails for a moment. Regina stiffened, feeling the tension in the room crank up several notches. What, had she thought he would simply leave her be? she silently berated herself. He wasn't a man used to accepting 'no' for an answer.

"Frank," George said, without looking up, and suddenly the burly man was moving toward Regina, faster than she would have believed possible for a man his size. She reacted on instinct, her magic flying from her hand in a purple wave of light that hit Frank square in the chest – with no effect at all. He grabbed her neck, lifting her off the ground and slamming her against the wall behind her. Regina writhed, gasping for air, her hands lifting to claw at his wrist desperately. Magic sparked from her fingertips, the purple light doing nothing to deter the man attacking her. He moved in closer, pressing his body to hers to stop her from kicking him. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think…

"Stop struggling," he grunted, pushing her harder against the wall. She could feel his hand tightening around her throat, the last traces of air she could find suddenly vanishing as he closed off her airways.

"Careful Frank, don't kill her!" Armand squeaked frantically.

"He's not going to kill her," George said, still in that infuriatingly calm voice. "He'll stop once she passes out. And then, she's coming with us."