A/N: To answer a question that came up after the last chapter, Rumplestiltskin made two True Love potions. He used Snow and Charmings' to make Emma the Savior, but he used his and Belle's to put a safety valve on the curse that allowed him to wake Belle up. This second potion he kept safe, intending not to use it…but circumstances changes, and he wound up needing it to bring magic earlier than expected.


Chapter Fifty-One—"Rebellions"


Cora had been in a bad mood, even after he'd told her what Mary Margaret and David had been talking about over breakfast. She'd called August's notes 'insignificant' and had sent him to talk to the Savior instead, making a few pointed threats about wooden legs and heartless bastards who carried axes. Grudgingly, August had done as he was told, finding Emma in the sheriff's station right after she finished another round of questioning Moe French and Tony Rose. August had no idea who they had been in the old world, and was tempted to ask Mother Superior why they would have attacked Gold, but he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He had a job to do, and that was that. Even though Cora had sent him, August was sure that he could find a way to help Emma break the curse on the sly, so he sat down with her and offered to help with some of the paperwork both of her deputies were horrible at doing.

Emma seemed grateful, and they indulged in a bit of pointless banter until August figured she was comfortable enough to actually answer some real questions. "So…" he asked slowly. "Any closer to becoming a true believer?"

"Are you starting with that already?" Emma groaned, turning an exasperated look on him.

"Hey, I'm just here to help."

"Yeah, I know. With this so-called curse and all. I heard you the first dozen times," the sheriff shot back, giving August the perfect opening. He didn't want to grill Emma for Cora, but he still had no choice…and maybe he could drop enough hints that Emma would figure out what was going on. Cora had said that he couldn't tell her, but it wasn't his fault if the Savior figured it out on her own, was it?

"Well, maybe if you'd start believing…?" August trailed off meaningfully. The first thing Cora really wanted to know—once he'd admitted that Emma seemed to be having hard time believing that the curse existed at all—was if she'd stopped being such a skeptic.

"You know, I've got plenty of real police work to do," she pointed out instead of answering the unspoken question. "I just had two guys—Emma gestured at the pair of cells—"attack the most feared man in town and put him out of commission for a good long time. The D.A. either hates Gold or loves him—I can't tell which—and is breathing down my neck for evidence, while my two deputies would rather drink together than work. So, I don't really have time for a curse right now, okay?"

Well, Cora would like that, but August didn't. So, he sat back and sighed, eying the little girl he never should have left behind and trying (for the thousandth time) to push the guilt aside. "Believing in the curse is the fastest way to break it," he pointed out, hoping he was right. Blue hadn't said exactly what Emma needed to do to break the curse, and Cora certainly hadn't mentioned that, either. "Everyone here needs you, Emma. Some more than you know."

"Look, I'm no 'Savior', okay? I'm just the sheriff."

"You're so much more than that, and I bet I'm not the only one who sees it," he replied, wishing that he wasn't so good with words and couldn't twist Cora's questions into a conversation so easily. "You've already said that I'm not the only one telling you this. Who else believes in this?"

Emma groaned. "August, I really don't have time for this."

"C'mon." He gave her his best smile, which he knew was pretty good. "Humor me."

"Well, Regina, obviously, but you got all torqued up when I told you that she was trying to convince me. And Henry, but he's a kid. That's really it. Though Gold has said an odd thing or two…not that it matters now that he's in the hospital."

"Gold has?" August had meant to ask Blue who Gold was, since he'd noticed that the man was incredibly powerful here in Storybrooke and seemed to know almost everything, but he hadn't yet gotten around to doing so. August wasn't sure if Gold was Cora's enemy or her ally, but he thought that the canny-eyed pawnbroker was worth watching.

"It's probably just him being enigmatic. I think he likes people thinking he knows more than he knows. Not that it matters, now." Emma shrugged again. "Or, maybe Regina asked him to help. They're friends."

"Are they?" he echoed, filing that one away for future reference.

"Guess so. Regina found him when those two jokers attacked him, and she was pretty upset."

"Right." Well, that answered two of Cora's questions; now onto the third. Could he do it subtly enough without making Emma suspicious? August wasn't entirely sure. He also wanted to drop a hint or two of his own, but he hadn't found the right opening for that yet. Unless he could slip one in here. "You know, Emma, about this curse…it puts a lot of people in really bad situations."

"Yeah, I heard Regina the thousand times she told me. No one remembers who they are, almost everyone's with the wrong family, and no one gets happy endings," Emma snapped impatiently.

He probably shouldn't push her, not now, but August was running out of time.

"Not everyone has forgotten. Not everyone was here under the curse," he pointed out, trying not to sound desperate.

"Like you, you mean? I know. You came through the wardrobe with me to protect me and all that. You've told me already, August, but can I get back to work now?"

The next words came out almost in a wail, escaping before August could stop them. "Why won't you believe me?"

Somehow, he'd wound up on his feet, and then Emma was standing, too, and they were both glaring at one another.

"Because it's crazy!" she shouted. "Normal towns don't have curses. People don't go around claiming to have come through from another world through a magical tree! I had a screwy childhood, too, but at least I don't go around trying to blame it on a curse and a magic wardrobe, okay? I—"

"Everything all right here, love?" a third voice interrupted, and August whirled to face the newcomer.

He was a tall man, dressed in a leather coat and dark pants, into which was tucked an expensive looking maroon shirt. He looked well-off, and looked all too certain of himself. August didn't recognize him, either, although he knew that under the curse he was known as Cyril O'Malley. He owned the marina, or a boat, or both, maybe. And he was trying to romance Emma Swan, serving as a distraction that August really didn't need right now. Whoever O'Malley actually was, he could try for Emma after the curse was broken. Until then, she definitely didn't have time for boyfriends. I managed to chase the last one off by calling the cops and telling them that Emma stole those watches, August thought, sizing O'Malley up. I bet I can find a way to get rid of this one, too, if I work at it.

"Everything's fine, Killian," Emma replied for both of them, sighing irritably. "What's up?"

"Ah, I just wanted to know if you might join me for lunch," O'Malley replied with a smile that he probably thought was charming. August wanted to wipe it off his face.

"I ate a little while ago, but thanks. Takeout from Granny's is all I can manage when I'm trying to catch up on paperwork, and I've got a lot of it right now," the sheriff replied, sounding a lot less annoyed than August wished she would.

"With all due respect to you, Sheriff, that didn't sound like paperwork getting done to me," the marina owner replied, throwing a significant glare August's way. "Is this…gentleman bothering you?"

"Not any more than usual," Emma said. "August was just leaving, anyway."

"I was?"

"Yeah. Right about when you stopped helping and started hindering would have been a good place to do that, but now is better than never," she retorted, glaring at him, and August knew that he was definitely not going to get through to her today.

The painful numbness in his left leg, however, reminded him incessantly that he needed to do that soon. "I'm sorry," he said more honestly than he often apologized. "I guess I just got carried away. Let me know if I can help with anything else, okay?"

"Sure, August. And I'll see you later, too, Killian. Right now, I've just got to get some work done," Emma said pointedly, and at least she was kicking them both out.

O'Malley gave her a nod and another sultry smile, but August didn't head out until he was sure that the other man was doing the same. So, the two ended up stepping into the street together, not even pretending not to be sizing one another up. O'Malley's upper lip curled up into a sneer as he studied August, obviously not liking what he saw, but August only shrugged under the scrutiny. Compared to Cora, O'Malley was just an expensively dressed thug, and he didn't frighten August at all.


Whale's second visit after magic arrived was, if possible, even more comical than his first. The first time the doctor had arrived, Belle had been there, and she'd been able to smooth things over a great deal. Rumplestiltskin had already finished using magic to corrupt every record the hospital had on his condition—fortunately, he'd had all night to do so, even if that meant he got very little sleep—which meant that Whale had been more than a little confused when he'd intended to discuss surgery options and ended up finding that operating on Mr. Gold's right leg wasn't necessary at all. It wasn't healed completely, of course; that process would take several days at best, and a week or so at the outside, but Rumplestiltskin actually thought that he might not walk with even the slightest limp when the healing was complete. But Whale's worries over impeded circulation and impending infection and/or tissue death were certainly no longer an issue, and Whale had left, scratching his head and vowing to recheck everything.

Belle had departed a little after that, reluctant but needing to get back to their daughter now that Rumplestiltskin was rather firmly out of the woods. He'd indulged in several hours of a good nap once she was gone, needing the rest after using so much magic. He couldn't remember ever having been so tired out after using a similar level of power in the Enchanted Forest, but magic was different here, and here his body was human, even if the same old demon did live inside him. So, Rumplestiltskin simply had to accept that as the price of doing business, even if he missed the old imp-like form's ability to go six rounds with a dragon and still only need a few hours of rest a week.

Now, however, Whale was back and he was awake, which promised at least a few interesting conversations.

"Mr. Gold," Whale started, still looking like he'd been smacked in the face by a two-by-four. "I have to admit that you're doing much better than I thought you were. Maybe…maybe I'm simply remembering incorrectly, but I thought you were in much worse shape yesterday."

Play your cards right, and the curse will smooth over the rough edges over for you, Rumplestiltskin reminded himself. Although the Dark Curse was annoying in many ways, particularly when he wanted it broken, it was good at making its victims believe the unbelievable. Otherwise, they would never have forgotten twenty-eight years passing, a fact he knew from vast personal experience.

"I'm not exactly what you're talking about, Doctor," Rumplestiltskin said as convincingly as he could, which was pretty convincing. He wasn't quite lying, just skirting the edge of the truth like he preferred, though what he'd done would be very hard to cover without resorting to outright untruths. The demon within his mind cackled gleefully, loving the subterfuge, but now was not the time to let his inner imp out. "I do feel a bit better than I did yesterday, but, to be honest, I'm still not enjoying myself."

The last bit was utterly true; there was nothing Rumplestiltskin liked less than being stuck in this hospital bed, unless it had been the four months he spent in solitary confinement. Both time he'd had to leave his family to fend for themselves, and although he knew Belle was both smart and capable, not being there to protect them made him incredibly nervous.

"Most people aren't while they're in a hospital," Whale replied, obviously at a loss for what else to say.

Fooling Frankenstein like this made Rumplestiltskin feel a little bad. By all accounts, the man was a good doctor here in Storybrooke, and he'd been something of a friend, once upon a time. He'd tracked the Doctor Frankenstein down in the Land Without Color to see if the 'mad doctor' really could resurrect the dead, bringing him to King George's attention when he lost his best general and wanted him back. Sir Lancelot had turned into something of a raging monster—as had the other brother Frankenstein, as far as Rumplestiltskin knew—but his actual intention had always been to bring King Leopold back to life and undermine Cora that way. She'd kept her second husband's body preserved as something of a trophy, but given how thoroughly the experiment failed, Rumplestiltskin had never sent Frankenstein to the dead king. He'd only wanted Leopold to be a distraction, after all; George had won the war too quickly for Rumplestiltskin's tastes, and he needed to make sure that Cora's thirst for vengeance did not arrive too early.

Whale and Jefferson were friends here, too, which was an interesting little wrinkle that the curse had actually allowed to happen. Perhaps that's why the Hatter has stopped bothering Snow White so frequently. He actually has a friend. Rumplestiltskin had been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd missed Whale's next statement, and only tuned in when the doctor prompted:

"Mr. Gold?"

Blinking, he gave Whale what he hoped was a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I must have drifted a bit there. What was that?"

"I said that you've been healing up very nicely. If you continue at this rate, you should be able to leave in a few days, provided you have someone to help you at home."

"I do," he replied as solemnly as he could, trying to ignore the still-perplexed expression on Frankenstein's face.

"Then, I guess I'll be, uh, going." The doctor gave him a nod and departed, and it was all Rumplestiltskin could do to hold back the high-pitched giggle. It still escaped as the door slid shut, whisper-quiet and shaking his body with mirth. Thankfully, Whale was not there to hear it, because Rumplestiltskin could only keep the imp quiet for so long.

Raising his right hand—the first time he'd been able to do so without pain since the attack—Rumplestiltskin wiggled his fingers slightly. Magic came immediately to his call, making his fingers glow purple, then blue, then red, and finally green. Conjuring up a spark of each color, and then a gold one, he rolled the five sparks around in the palm of his hand, enjoying the way magic rolled through his bones and made him feel alive. Let Cora try her tricks now, he thought with a cold smile. I will end her if she does. Oh, having power again felt good. He was no longer helpless, no longer tied to this hospital bed and waiting for someone else to hurt him. No, Rumplestiltskin could walk out at any moment, although he was willing to play the game and heal slowly for now.

They'd come to do more x-rays in a little while, and he'd let them see the much better condition of his ribs, since he'd already spoofed the records into thinking that those breaks had not been as serious as they'd been in truth. His leg was another matter; although Rumplestiltskin had reduced the damage shown on the x-rays, he had to be careful there. In fact, he would probably have to have the next set of scans show less damage than there actually was now, because he didn't want to have to leave the hospital in a cast, even if the leg was still currently broken. Whale had said that he should be able to leave in a few days, though, and by then his magic would have that injury wrapped up quite nicely. Or at least stabilized.

Those were minor worries. Rumplestiltskin was back in the game, and that was what mattered.


Unfortunately for August, the next person he ran into was Sister Astrid, who told him that Mother Superior wanted to see him. He was really starting to feel like a puppet again, being pulled this way and that while he tried to do the right thing and help Emma break the curse. Mother Superior, of course, simply wanted to give him some information that she told him to commit to memory—but that was information that August didn't want. He'd separated Emma from Neal by giving Neal a name that meant nothing to him, but now August knew exactly who Baelfire was.

And he was resolutely not asking himself why Blue had chosen now to tell him about Rumplestiltskin's son.


Hold or cut your bow strings, Regina, she told herself, not even pausing to consider the irony inherent in thinking that old phrase at the moment. Instead, she squared her shoulders and opened the front door for her mother, stepping aside so that the elder woman could come into the foyer. Henry was doing homework and David was working late, which meant that Regina should hopefully be able to have this conversation in peace. In an absolute worst case scenario, it would turn nasty and magical, and the two women would unleash a magical battle that might really attract attention. But Regina didn't think even her mother's temper would explode in that manner, or at least not today. Magic had only been in Storybrooke for twenty-four hours or so, and Regina was still having issues controlling her powers. It came at her call, but often weaker than she expected or jetting off at unexpected angles, and Cora was not the type to start a fight when she couldn't be sure of the outcome.

She would have really liked to have a chat with her old teacher before she uncorked this bottle, but when she'd gone by the hospital earlier, the French girl had been there again, and Regina was not going to try to get in the middle of that. Not right now, anyway. There were too many unknowns in the relationship between Rumplestiltskin and Lacey French, and Regina had enough of her own problems at the moment. One of which is standing right in front of you. Focus.

"Mother," she said as evenly as she could as they stepped into the living room, taking a deep breath and turning to face Cora. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"Your mask is slipping, darling. You've been to visit Rumple too many times, and I think that should stop," Cora replied immediately. At least she didn't beat around the bush.

"And here I thought that you approved of him teaching me," she replied dryly, curious to see what her mother would say.

"I doubt Rumplestiltskin is doing much teaching in his current position," was the response, although did Regina detect a strange mixture of satisfaction and anger in her dark eyes? Suddenly, Regina realized that there was no way that her mother would have wanted her favorite pet beat up quite so seriously, and that meant that even Cora's creatures were proving to be more independent than she liked. That thought made Regina smile.

"No, but you didn't really mean for that to happen, did you?" she asked, not bothering to keep her suspicions to herself for once. "You told me to be careful because your little minions might come after Henry next, but you didn't mean for those two thugs to beat up Rumple quite so badly, did you? You're slipping, Mother. The curse is weakening."

Cora scoffed. "Not as much as your precious little step-niece would hope."

"Emma's not the one calling the shots on this one," Regina shot back.

"Rumple is—" her mother cut off, studying Regina intently. Her voice turned cool. "Are you trying to make yourself into my enemy, Regina?"

"I've been your enemy ever since you killed Daniel to cast your curse!"

Cora's eyes narrowed. "There are others that I can threaten. Your family—"

"I'll keep them safe," she interrupted, something she rarely dared do. "All of them. Even the ones who don't remember me right now."

"My, that's ambitious," Cora purred, walking over to the mantle and brushing imaginary dust off of the horse statue there. "You don't want to move against me, darling. You know you'll fail."

"I know that it's high time I decided to fight for what I believe in. I won't be your lackey any more, Mother. I should have stopped doing that a long time ago," Regina replied, forcing her fears aside. She'd crawl to Rumplestiltskin and make any deal she had to if her own powers were not enough, but in a cursed Storybrooke, Regina was fairly sure that she could manage on her own. "I won't stand against you if you leave my family alone, but I'm done playing your games. Forever."

Cora laughed softly. "My dear Regina," she said quietly, stepping forward to reach for Regina's chin. Regina dodged, but her mother's thin smile only grew. "The curse may be weakening, but don't forget that I have more allies than you can possibly imagine. If you become my enemy, I won't protect you from them."

"You weren't protecting me, anyway," she snarled. "You never have."

"I'm hurt. You know I've always wanted what's best for you," her mother replied, and for a moment, the sincerity in her voice stabbed at Regina's heart. She loved her mother, or had, and she'd always wanted to believe that somehow, something could happen and everything could work out. But Cora had always forced her to choose one love over another, and it was now Cora's turn to find out what it was like to be on the losing end of that bargain.

"You've always wanted what is best for you," Regina retorted, taking another step back. Her mother hadn't resorted to magic yet, and if she was going to, it would come at any time. Slowly, carefully, Regina gathered power to herself, hoping that the shielding spell she was planning would not turn out to be mouse-shaped fireworks or something else equally ridiculous. Magic here was different, and she had to be careful. "You have no heart, Mother. How can you care about anything other than your ambitions?"

"I have always cared about my daughter," Cora snapped. "But if you're repudiating that title, I suppose I will have to find another."

Confused, Regina frowned. "What?"

Cora's mysterious smile was her only answer on that front. "You'll crawl back to me, eventually, darling. And when you do, you will find that I am no longer so generous."

You never were, she thought, but didn't say so. There was no reason to start a fight when Cora seemed willing to let her go—and with a bare minimum of threats, too. Relief whipped through Regina, but she knew better than to let it make her confident. Cora always had a trick up her sleeve, and Regina had to stay wary. Sooner or later, her mother would lash out, even if that moment was days or weeks from now, and she had to be ready.

"Goodbye, Mother," Regina replied, gesturing her towards the door. Somewhat surprisingly, Cora headed that way, even opening the front door for herself and stepping through. There she hesitated, as if she wasn't quite sure that she wanted to walk away, but it was too late for that. So, Regina added: "Oh, and I quit, too. You can find yourself a new assistant in the mayor's office."

She'd said that last dig in large part just to see how her mother would react, knowing that she didn't need the job, thanks to the way Cora had cast the curse. Regina's bank account was healthy enough to weather several decades without work, and everything was going to change when the curse broke, anyway. Regina really didn't want to work for her mother anymore…but she also knew that Cora couldn't let that assertion of independence stand without saying something. Even if her mother obviously had some other plan at work. Otherwise, she would have blown up already.

Pausing in the doorway, Cora stopped and looked over her shoulder at Regina, her expression unreadable. "I'll let you play at being 'good' for a bit, dear," she said coolly. "Sooner or later, you'll see these heroes for what they are. They'll use you and discard you, and then you'll come crawling back to me."

"They're my family, Mother. In ways you never have been," she replied, stung at the implication that Snow, David, and Emma would turn their backs on her.

"Oh, Regina." Turning, Cora touched her cheek gently. "You'll see. I almost wish I was wrong, but you know that I'm not. Goodbye, for now. We'll see one another again."

Too stunned to say anything, Regina watched her mother leave, walking calmly to the curb and getting into her royal purple BMW without ever looking back. Swallowing back pain—because there had been a time when she wanted nothing more than her mother's approval—Regina watched Cora drive away, and then forced herself to step back in the house. It was done. She was free, and there was nothing Cora could do to make her change her mind. I will keep my family safe, and I'll prove to Mother that she's wrong, Regina swore silently.

"Did you do it, Mom?" Henry's voice suddenly asked, and Regina jumped out of her skin.

"Henry! Don't sneak up on people like that," she gasped as she turned to face where her son sat on the stairs, her heart beating wildly.

"Sorry. I've been here for a bit. I thought you knew I was eavesdropping."

There were times she wanted to throttle this remarkable little boy she loved so much. Regina glared. "Then you know the answer to that, you little sneak."

"Yup." Henry grinned, and bounced forward to wrap his arms around her waist. Closing her eyes, Regina hugged him back, and his next words warmed her heart. "I think you were really brave."

"Thank you, sweetie," was all she could say around the lump in her throat, and for a few minutes, Regina could convince herself that everything would be all right.

Now that she could help Emma start breaking the curse again, she would make everything all right. If it was the last thing she did.


1 Year Before the Curse

They'd done it. Two years and eight months of war, the final three months of which had been taken up by a vicious and prolonged siege of the capital city in which Snow had been born. But the gates had finally been opened by citizens who were loyal to Snow, and their armies had taken the castle. It was over, and they would finally be able to bring peace and justice back to the kingdom. Even one year under Cora's rule would have been too long, but Snow's people had suffered under the Evil Queen for four long years—or longer, if Snow wanted to count the years during which Cora had used Snow's late father as her puppet. But now that was well and truly over, and Snow could stand on the steps of her palace and look down at a crowd of people who were finally free.

"Snow! Snow!" her beloved's voice shouted, and she turned to face Charming, sword still in hand and feeling more like a genuine princess than she had in years.

"What is it?"

"They did it. They found Cora. She's in the throne room, under guard," Charming replied, grinning wildly.

"Really?" Snow gasped, eagerly taking his hand when he held it out to her.

Together, they rushed into the palace, acknowledging salutes from soldiers as they went. After all, Snow and Charming were the rightful rulers of this kingdom, and it was their place to dispense justice. King George had remained in the army camp for just that reason, and although Snow had been a little surprised by her father-in-law's restraint, she was also grateful for it. They would have faced a much harder time winning the kingdom back without his help, and now he was willing to let them rule this one while they all started the slow process of uniting the two kingdoms. Upon George's death, Snow and Charming would rule as equals, combing their two inherited kingdoms, but until then, this one was Snow's. Not that I'd ever even dream of banishing my husband from my side. We'll learn to rule together, just like we do everything.

Entering the throne room was like coming home. How many times had Snow walked in here as a child and as a young woman, coming to learn from her father and—David's hand squeezed hers, and only then did Snow realize that there were tears in her eyes. She looked up at her husband, and he gave her a smile.

"It'll be okay," Charming said softly. "We've got her, and we'll get justice for your father, too."

"And for Leo," Snow whispered, thinking of the child they'd been so close to having. His loss still represented a void within her heart that she was sure would never be filled, and she knew that Charming felt the same way. Their child had been taken from them, stolen away by poison from an evil witch, and today Snow would make sure that no one else ever suffered at her hands again.

"For everyone," he agreed, and they stepped forward together.

Cora was still seated on the throne, looking down at the prince and princess as they approached, acting as if she was not surrounded by guards. A prisoner. They'd won, but why did Cora still look so confident? Snow's stepmother looked perfect, of course. Snow couldn't remember ever having seen Cora with a hair out of place, even when she was busy ripping hearts out or threatening people. Even now, in the hands of her enemies, Cora looked supremely confident, and part of Snow wanted to forcibly wipe that smirk off of her face. Instead, she stepped forward.

"It's over, Cora," Snow told her evil stepmother, mounting the dais and nodding to the soldiers. Two of them reached up and pulled Cora off the throne, earning themselves glares, but surprisingly surviving their actions unharmed. Snow hadn't been sure if Cora would be foolish enough to lash out at mere soldiers following orders, but she did know that they would be able to hold her.

"It's never over," Cora hissed in response, and although Snow noticed that there was something off in her voice, she never had time to contemplate it. Suddenly, Cora's hands came up, magic sizzling in the air, and—

"Look out!" Charming shouted, grabbing her and pulling her aside. Snow had been prepared for that, but still stumbled, and she saw Cora smiling until a shining blue figure descended from the sky, raining sparkling fairy dust down upon the Evil Queen.

"What—what is this?" Cora twisted around, obviously trying to free herself from the web of fairy dust, but she could barely move. The magic clung to her tightly, no matter what she did, covering her like a shiny blue second skin. Her face contorted with fury, and she snarled at Snow: "This isn't over!"

"It is," Snow repeated, taking a deep breath. "The Blue Fairy just bound your magic with fairy dust. You can't hurt anyone, now."

Drawing herself up proudly, Cora stopped fighting and smiled. "We shall see, dear. I remain the queen here, and my power is not limited to magic."

"No," Charming cut in, his voice hard. "You were the queen. Your trial will be held tomorrow."

"Trial? For what?"

"For murdering my father," Snow said before she could stop herself. "For making the people of this kingdom suffer for years, and for killing countless innocent people. And for usurping my throne." She turned to the guards before Cora could say another word, not trusting herself to look at that smirk and not kill Cora herself. "Take her away."

The guards obeyed, and Snow turned to Charming, trying to remind herself to be happy. They had won, and she was home. Surely, that had to count for something. But then why did she have the feeling that Cora had yet another trick up her sleeve, and that the war was far from over? There had been something just a little bit…off about Cora during that encounter, even if Snow couldn't quite put her finger on what it had been. She hadn't seen her stepmother face to face in years, not since Regina and Charming had helped her escape from the dungeon, so perhaps her memories were just playing tricks on her. They'd won. Cora was going to be tried for her crimes, and there was nothing Cora could do with Blue's spell still on her.

Or could she?


Sometimes, things happened exactly when they were needed.

Cora had barely put her car in park when her cell phone rang, displaying a number she did not recognize. Curious, she turned the car off, stepped into her garage, and then answered with a simple: "Yes?"

Anyone who was calling her knew who she was, after all. Despite what Regina—foolish, rebellious, Regina—seemed to think, this was still Cora's town. Even if the curse broke, Storybrooke would be hers, because only a fool would not have planned from the beginning for such an eventuality to happen. Oh, she'd not known about the Savior back in the Enchanted Forest, but Cora was not an idiot. She knew that any curse could be broken, and although the Dark Curse was the most tightly woven pieces of magic she had ever encountered, that did not mean something unexpected could not happen. So, she'd long planned for every possible eventuality, which meant that her daughter's foolish optimism really was quite misplaced.

"Madam Mayor?" a familiar voice said from the other end, and Cora found herself perking up as she strode into her house.

"Nurse Zephyr," she said with a smile the other woman could probably hear. "So nice of you to call."

"You wanted me to let you know if I discovered any interesting information on Mr. Gold," Zephyr—also her eldest daughter, although currently unaware of that fact—said, her tone brisk and helpful. She continued without forcing Cora to prompt her for more: "Dr. Whale says that we all must be remembering incorrectly, but his injuries have begun to heal at an alarming rate. I swear that his right leg was absolutely shattered yesterday, and yet today it seems to be only fractured."

There were times that Cora almost regretting abandoning Zelena. It was the only decision she could have made at the time, of course, but Zelena had always been much more loyal than Regina, and so much more eager to please. Now Zephyr sounded puzzled, but she certainly had Cora's attention.

"What do the x-rays say?" she asked curiously, her mind whirling ahead at a thousand miles an hour.

"They seem to indicate that the break never was that bad, but I remember differently." The next words were hesitant. "I know that you said to call you for anything, particularly any suspicious event involving Mr. Gold…but I'm very sorry if I've wasted your time."

"Oh, no, dear. You certainly have not," Cora replied, feeling the magic of the curse working on her clueless daughter. The curse wanted to make Nurse Zephyr believe that everything was normal, and if the curse told her that those injuries—which Cora had been well aware of, herself—had not existed in the first place, there was obviously something going on. Clearly, Zelena was more resistant to it than Whale, although why she would be was…

Oh. Oh, my. Warmth rushed up Cora's spine, and she found herself smiling even as Zelena continued in a rush:

"Then I hope I was able to help."

"You have. Thank you. I will call you again."

Cora hung up without waiting for a response, because now she was far too distracted by what she knew must have happened. Inexplicably vanishing injuries? Zelena, a sorceress, being more resistant to the curse than Whale? There was only one thing that could explain both of those oddities, and Cora knew exactly what that had to be. Magic. Taking a deep breath, she searched for the tangy taste in the air, the feeling she had once been so used to in the Enchanted Forest and had forced herself to live without in Storybrooke. She had missed it dreadfully here, and had searched for years to find a way to bring it over, hating Rumplestiltskin for the way he'd neglected to mention that the great and terrible curse he had given her would take them all to a Land Without Magic. But apparently Rumple could not live without it any more than she could, particularly when a drunk florist was able to hurt him like that.

Oh, this is going to be marvelous, Cora thought to herself, rubbing her hands together. Rumple may have brought magic—and I know he was responsible, for he would be the one to find a way—but he is still playing my game. By my rules. Letting out the breath she had been holding, Cora held her right hand out, palm up, summoning a small fireball to her palm.

Nothing happened.

Doubling her concentration, figuring that twenty-eight years of not using magic had left her rusty, Cora focused her age-old rage and again summoned the fireball. She thought of those who had wronged her, of old King Xavier's smugness as he looked down at her, of Eva tripping her, of Eva stealing Leopold away and forcing her to give up her daughter because of it, and of the gardener-turned-fake prince who had stolen her virtue away. Her rage threatened to make her shake, and it was a powerful force which had never failed her before…but her palm was still empty.

"What is this?" Cora whispered to herself, feeling her anger raging against its boundaries. She could feel the magic in the air. Why couldn't she touch it? Why wouldn't it respond to her? She tried a third time, and then a fourth, but both times the magic fizzled away before Cora could grasp it, and even as she grew angrier and angrier, nothing happened.

What had Rumplestiltskin done?


A/N: So, how long do you think that Cora will continue having problems with her magic? And what does she have planned?

Up next is Chapter 52: "Sacrifices Chosen", where Mary Margaret tries to talk to Regina, Belle and Renee run into August, and Cora confronts Rumplestiltskin about magic.

Back in the past, Cora's execution is scheduled, and Rumplestiltskin does a good deed.