AN: Hi guy's, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your comments and feedback have been amazing as always. Whatever glitch prevented me from replying to your reviews previously, it appears to have corrected itself. As such anyone who has left a review should now have received a reply, and I will continue to reply in future. Here's chapter 4, dedicated to all of you for being such supportive people. Let me know what you think :-)
It's late. That time of night when the moon is high, and the shadows are soft in the candlelight. The manor is silent and dark, ready to welcome sleep, but sleep is the last thing on my mind.
I'm in my bedroom, staring out the large, open window. A gentle breeze brushes against my skin, and I can hear an owl hooting in a nearby tree. In the distance, the familiar chime of the town clock signals that its quarter past the hour.
The flicker of a candle draws my attention to my vanity, the light catching a long crack that runs down the centre of the mirror. It fractures the light, projecting a wavy orange pattern onto the wall and I frown, unable to recall when and how this damage was caused.
But the answer seems irrelevant because I feel a strange sort of contentment, the knowledge that for once everything is exactly how it should be. I smile, an expression of true happiness. It's an emotion that I never dared believe in until this very moment.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind and I feel the press of a body against my back. The smell of spicy sandalwood fills my senses. It's a scent I know well, but one previously never found in the privacy of my bedroom before. That, coupled with the warm presence encompassing me, makes me feel safe, secure…complete.
"Who'd have guessed this is where we'd end up?"
The loving voice belongs to Emma Swan, her arms tightening around my waist as she pulls me closer to her, resting her chin on my shoulder. I tilt my head to glance back at her and my smile widens. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that nothing about this scenario makes sense and yet, having her here feels like the most natural thing in the world.
"It's certainly not an ending printed in any of the fairy-tales I've ever read," I reply, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.
She laughs against my mouth, "Then you've clearly been reading the wrong ones…"
I turn in her arms, placing one hand at her hip and the other at the back of her neck, deepening our kiss. It's an action that feels normal but foreign at the same time. As though we've done this a hundred times before and yet, not at all.
She moans against my rising passion, her tongue flicking out to stroke mine. The sound sends a glorious shiver down my spine, a warmth that melts the coldest parts of my heart. This, right here, is all I've ever wanted. That feeling that you've found the other half of your soul, that despite all your past mistakes you were still worthy of true love.
I break the kiss with a tender sigh and rest my forehead against hers, "What did I do to deserve you?" I whisper through the dark, "How did I get so lucky?"
She smiles, green eyes shining as her dimples make an appearance, "I'm the lucky one," She replies. "You waited an entire lifetime for me."
I press a kiss to the end of her nose, "I'd wait two," I promise.
Her lips crash back to mine but this time the kiss is desperate, full of desire, a promise of what's to come. For the first time in my life I'm happy to let her lead, to surrender the control I've fought so hard to maintain and give myself freely. I'd give her anything she asked.
Her hands slide to my hips, her fingers slipping under the bottom of my blouse to stroke across my skin as she turns us around and begins backing me towards the bed. On the way I lose my blouse and she loses her jeans, our lips barely separating as we slowly undress.
When my legs collide with the bed, I tumble backwards, pulling her with me as we hit the mattress together. We laugh through our kiss, and the sound turns into a moan when I feel her climb up my body and slip a leg between mine.
"You like that?" She teases, pressing harder until I'm arching up into her thigh.
"You know I do," I reply, my body igniting under her touch. "Take me, Emma. Make me yours, please."
She kisses me again, a meeting of mouths that's so much more than sexual. I pull her flush against me, wishing I could entwine our bodies to the point that I no longer know where mine ends and hers begins.
The hand she has in my hair slowly slides down, brushing across my neck and between my breasts, stroking my abdomen. When she reaches the waistband of my pants, she unsnaps the button and presses her hand inside. I gasp as she cups the most sensitive part of me, thrusting my hips and craving more contact. Her fingers pause at the edge of my panties and she breaks our kiss, opening her eyes to stare deep into my soul.
"I love you," She breathes, and they're the truest words I've ever heard.
"I love you t…" But my last word is lost to a cry of pleasure, her fingers slipping deep inside me as the room is blanketed in a blinding white light.
Later, when our bodies lie naked, sated, and entwined, my eyes find the mirror on my vanity once more. The crack has gone.
My eyes flicker open, drinking in the familiar sight of my dark, empty bedroom. In my chest I can feel my heart pounding against my breastbone and my hand instinctively reaches out to search the bedsheets for a phantom lover long since gone. I'm disappointed to find myself alone.
The dream felt so real and though the presence of Emma Swan – something I assume was the product of our earlier confrontation – was not ideal, it served to emphasise the loneliness I feel inside. The desire I have to share the very root of my existence with someone who just gets me.
Rolling over, I grab the spare pillow and hug it tightly to my chest. Robin got me, he understood me. He knew who I was in the Enchanted Forest and it didn't scare him. He saw the moral struggle I faced every single day, and yet he gave me the strength to get through it.
I'm scared that I never have that again. Terrified that no one else will ever see past the Evil Queen.
I glance across the room to my vanity mirror, my reflection visible in the early light of dawn. The glass is unblemished, the crack I saw in my dream nothing more than a trick of the mind, but the image staring back at me is very real. It reminds me of the glamour spell I had Rumple use when I wanted to trick Snow White into letting me get closer to her.
When I looked at that peasant girl in the glass, I knew in an instant that no one would ever see the truth hidden beneath. I found it freeing, a chance to walk around my Kingdom and pick off every traitor who would dare plot against me. But then I watched as they hanged my effigy, heard them laugh as they threw fruit at it and cursed my existence. I stood helpless as my guards condemned me to death in my name. And it hurt. I realised then that I had fallen so far from the person I wanted to be, and I had no idea how to crawl my way back up.
When I look at my reflection now I wonder if Regina is just a new type of glamour, but unlike before, one that only serves to trick me into believing that I'm someone I could never be.
A loud banging breaks the early morning silence and deep in thought, it takes me a few moments to realise that someone is pounding on my front door. For a moment I fear it to be the angry mob I so casually joked about a yesterday, but the dying remnants of my dream quickly returns my senses and I disregard the ridiculous idea.
Climbing out of bed, I pull my silk robe from the back of the door and wrap it around my body before tying it at the waist. My bare feet slip down the stairs to the beat of the incessant knocking and as it grows steadily heavier, I conclude that whoever it is, doesn't sound friendly.
When I finally pull open the front door, I'm instantly brushed aside by an irate Emma Swan. Barging past me, she storms into my hall, only turning to confront me once she's safely inside. Her hair is pulled into a loose, messy ponytail, and she's wearing no make-up and an old pair of track pants. She looks fresh out of bed.
"What the hell sort of a game is this, Regina?" She demands, clearly angry.
Given the rude nature of her unannounced, early morning visit I could ask the same thing, but the incensed look on her face tells me that she's not in the mood for sarcasm. Closing the door behind her, I casually fold my arms across my chest ignoring the uneasy roll of my stomach at the reminder of my recent, highly inappropriate, dream.
"Good morning to you too, Miss Swan!" I reply curtly.
She straightens her back and plants her feet firmly on the hardwood floor. It's a childish stance that reminds me of Henry's early tantrum years, and I find that I have to bite back on the patronising comment that lingers on the tip of my tongue.
"Don't act coy with me," She growls, unamused by my sass. "I want to know what the hell you think you're doing?"
I search my mind for any hint as to what she's referring to, but quickly come up blank. Ever since she touched me yesterday afternoon the destruction to the town has stopped and as I haven't left my manor in days, there's no way that I've inadvertently managed to threaten or hurt anyone.
Perplexed, I frown, "If you'd care to elaborate a little more on the context of your demands, you may find me able to answer."
She returns my glare with a glower of her own, "You know exactly what I'm talking about!" She replies, as if her point were as obvious as Sleepy's name.
"If you're referring to the tear in the forest…"
"I'm talking about the dream?" She interjects.
Lost and confused, I shake my head, wondering if I somehow got sucked into a parallel realm while I slept, "What dream?"
"The one I had last night!" She huffs, unimpressed by my refusal to submit.
Her cheeks flush pink and I smirk at the slight change in colour, all too aware of exactly what sort of dream caused it.
"Whatever twisted fantasies you harbour towards your pirate; I assure you that I have nothing to do with them!" I quip.
She thrusts her hands into the baggy pockets of her pants and breaks eye contact, embarrassed, "My dream wasn't about Killian," She replies, and I have to strain to hear her.
My grin widens, "Oh now that is a problem," I tease gleefully, "for him at least."
"Which is exactly why this reeks of you?" She snaps, angered by the enjoyment I'm expressing at her awkward predicament.
As her best friend I should feel sympathy for her obvious distress, but the darkness inside of me thrives on the knowledge that she's feeling guilty for something she just tried to pin on me.
"Me?" I gasp, feigning surprise, "How could I possibly…"
"It was about you, Regina," she blurts out, shocking us both with her brazen confession, "You and me!"
I can't resist the urge to goad her further, "And just what were we doing in this dream of yours, dear?"
"I…you…we…" A flummoxed Emma Swan is quite endearing, and making her more uncomfortable is a torture I find quite exquisite. Swallowing sharply, she turns her back on me, running her hand through her ruffled hair, "It doesn't matter."
"I beg to differ," I press, taking satisfaction from watching her squirm, "If we were fighting I'd assume that was your sub-conscience trying to tell you something…"
"We were making love!"
The joke suddenly ceases to be funny, the intimacy of my own, very similar dream rushing back to taunt me. Blinking, I ask, "We were what!?"
"We were making love," She repeats, her eyes wide as though she can't quite believe the words she's spoken, "Here, upstairs in your bedroom. There was candles and an open window, and a crack in the mirror of your…"
"You dreamt that?" I gasp, unable to comprehend the remote possibility that we dreamt the same thing.
My heart begins to race again, my expression betraying an awareness of the dreams content.
"So you did do it?" Emma accuses, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "I knew it! When you joked about seducing me yesterday I thought you were just pushing the boundaries, I never actually thought you'd stoop this low!"
I scoff, offended that she'd assume such a dream to be of my doing, "I assure you I had nothing to do with the contents of that dream."
"Bullshit!" She rebukes, her voice laced with mistrust, "You want to break Killian's heart because you think he's responsible for breaking yours, you admitted as much to me yesterday…"
"This is ridiculous," I protest, disgusted that she'd think me even capable of such an unrefined tactic. "I have no intention of…"
"You know what?" She interrupts, raising her hand to silence my defence, "Save it, your Majesty. I am no longer willing to listen to your lies. If you want to give into your darkness and turn your back on everyone who cares about you then that's your choice, but don't expect us to stick around for the ride." She storms past me, knocking into my shoulder on her way to the door, "Consider this my first and final warning, stay away from me and stay away from my family."
Her warning is filled with such bitter finality that it strikes deep in my heart. Once again these nauseating heroes have accused me without trial and decided my punishment, and this time it's a particularly hard one to swallow.
How many times is Emma Swan going to threaten to take my family – Henry - away from me? Why do they insist on dangling my son in front of me like a reward for a good behaviour?
The pain in my heart, which I haven't felt in days, is back with a vengeance. It starts as a dull throb but quickly spreads out, consuming my entire chest until I can't draw breath. The sharp pain is so unbearable that for a horrifying second I truly believe it will tear my heart in two.
And that's when the ground begins to shake, the coat stand dancing across the floor as a designer vase topples off the window and crashes to the ground. It shatters into a hundred tiny pieces.
With the pain growing worse by the second, I find myself unable to support my own weight any longer and my legs buckle underneath me. I drop to my knees on the hard floor, crying out in agony.
At the sound, Emma pauses with her hand on the door handle, spinning around to demand that I stop this latest attack. But when she sees my position, the pain I'm in, her expression instantly softens to one of concern.
"Regina!?" She exclaims, mouth agape as she watches me pull my heart from chest.
Her voice is cloudy, barely registering in my conscience as a wave of relief rushes through me at the easing pain.
"Oh my god, Regina," She rushes forward, dropping to her knees next to me to study the beating heart in my hand. Around us, the shaking becomes much more violent. "Are you okay? What's happening?"
"Just go Miss Swan," I order through clenched teeth, biting down on the pain, "You've made your feelings perfectly clear."
"But I…" Her words drift off as she witnesses the tear in my heart growing wider, and finally she puts two and two together. "Is that what the tear in the town is?" She asks, "The manifestation of your heart literally breaking?"
I nod, "I once taught you that magic was emotion so yes; I think this destruction is somehow tied to my pain."
Without thinking, she reaches out to cup my hands in hers and the second we make contact, that warmth begins to encompass my heart once more. A strange tingling sensation shoots up my arms as white magic pours into the wounded organ, and like cement to a crack in the sidewalk, it starts to heal the most recent damage.
"Have you lost control?" She asks, worried.
I nod again, wincing at the slowly dying pain, "To a degree, yes."
She releases my hands and the healing slows, making me wonder whether or not her presence had anything to do with it. Initially I assumed it was my own good magic doing the healing, but I can't ignore the timing of her touch and my rapidly easing pain.
Green eyes, laced with concern, meet mine, "And the Evil Queen?" She presses, but this time it's a question not a demand.
"Oh she's there," I chuckle darkly. "Inside. She's always there…"
She smiles sadly, but it's not pity I see in her expression. She's giving me a look I've never seen before, it's as though she's opened her eyes and is really seeing me for the first time. She finally understands.
"But you don't want her to be?" She asks.
The question say's little but to me, it means so much. For the first time ever someone has realised that I don't want to be the Evil Queen, that it wasn't strictly a choice, and it suddenly feels as though I can breathe again.
I shake my head, "I just want to be happy!" I reply.
And it's the truth, since childhood my only dream was to live a life of my choosing with whoever I dared to love. I never wanted to be a Queen, that was my mother's desire. I never wanted to use dark magic, that was Rumple's influence. I've always been a tool, a means to an end for whoever had the gall to manipulate me, and I always proved so easy to discard once my usefulness had ended.
But knelt here on the floor of my hall, the Saviour sitting crossed legged next to me, I honestly believe that Emma can see past that. She can see me, the lonely, scared, pain ridden woman underneath.
"She protects you doesn't she," The blonde states, deep in thought. "When you're at your lowest, in pain, the Evil Queen protects you by pushing others away."
I nod, "She's all I have now."
A gentle hand comes to rest on my knee, and Emma ducks her head, forcing me to make eye contact once more, "Regina that's not true," She replies earnestly. "You have Henry and Snow and Charming, and Zelena…you have me!"
"And you have your Pirate," I argue, loathing the inner hatred that forces me to lash out once more, "A man who should have died months ago. A man who threatened to kill our son before you stabbed him in the heart. A man who sailed to my town under false pretences and stole my happy ending from me."
Emma studies my expression, a slight frown creasing her brow, but when she speaks her voice remains calm, "Robin's death isn't Hook's fault…"
"Isn't it?" I snap, glaring unnecessarily cruelly. "If he'd never come to Storybrooke he would never have seduced, you. If he hadn't seduced you, you would never have become the Dark One. If you'd never become the Dark One, he'd never have died. We would never have gone to the Underworld, Hades would never have tricked us and Robin would still be alive."
"I became the Dark One for you!"
Her response is honest and true, but so far from the level of emotion that I can currently handle that I have no choice but to brush it aside. It's an option I can't consider because to do so would mean that Robin's death, Emma and Hook's suffering, were all ultimately my fault. And I already have a list of unforgiveable sins that I can never atone for.
"That's not the point!" I reply, pushing my feelings to the back of my mind.
Emma sighs, "You know what, it doesn't matter whose right and whose wrong, what matters is that we heal this!"
She reaches towards my heart, her fingertips brushing against it as softly as a lover's caress. For a moment I'm certain that I can feel it all the way down to my soul, a split second of completion that I don't want to let go, but I know that the tender warmth is only temporary.
"I don't know how to," I inform hopelessly.
She shrugs, a half smile forming, "We find you your happy ending," She replies, as if it's the simplest solution in the world.
A part of me roars to life at her determination to help, but the older, wiser, broken majority knows better than to place hope in happily ever after.
"Emma, I know you mean well," I begin gently, "But I have waited sixty-five years for a happy ending that I'm really beginning to believe doesn't exist. I doubt you can find it in the short amount of time it will take my magic to destroy this town."
"I can try!"
It's a promise, as true a promise as anyone has ever given me, but it's also a false one. "You will fail," I reply, desperate to make her see then any attempt to find my happiness is doomed to failure. "Your mother and father were right to banish me from the White Kingdom all those years ago. The darkness inside me is destructive, and it will stop at nothing to ensure that everyone I love ends up as miserable and lonely as I am."
"Regina…."
She tries to interrupt but I don't allow it. I appreciate her effort and unwavering support but the truth is, I'm done believing in fairy-tales. Now, isn't that the purest form of irony.
"No," I cut her off with a shake of my head, "My mind is made up, Miss Swan. I've discovered that the destruction is less when my heart is inside my body, and if I have no human contact then I can't be hurt." My eyes meet hers, "I'm going to lock myself in my vault."
"Indefinitely?" She exclaims, immediately rejecting my plan. "That's ridiculous! You can't live the rest of your life alone, and what about Henry, you're his mother?"
The thought of saying goodbye to Henry hurts more than anything ever has and I can't deny that it will be the hardest thing to cope with. But the truth is that I'm a danger, to him as well as the town, and I would never forgive myself if I did anything that could potentially cause him harm.
"He has you, his real mother," I reply, ignoring just how deep the words cut, "And pretty soon he'll have a father in Hook. He doesn't need me."
"Of course he needs you," The blonde protests, failing to see that her argument is futile, "We all do!"
I scoff, unable to take her words on face value, "The town needed my magic, and now it has yours and my sisters."
"Gina…" Her voice trails off, knowing that her plight is already lost. To be honest I'm not convinced that it ever had a chance to start with.
"I've made my decision," I reply firmly, "Kindly show me your support by respecting it."
An awkward silence falls between us, too many unspoken words hanging in the air. She's trying to protect me and I'm ready to give up. I doubt it's possible that we could ever reach a mutual understanding on the subject.
With a soft sigh of surrender, she eventually nods, "Okay," She agrees reluctantly. "I can see how determined you are in this, and I understand your fear that you might hurt someone. I'll agree to support a move to your vault on two conditions."
I roll my eyes, certain that I'm not going to like hearing what she has to say, "I'm listening?"
"The move is temporary," She negotiates, sucking in a deep breath, "and only until we can find a way to fix your magic…"
I nod once, happy to agree to something that is out of my control. After all the pain I've suffered during my lifetime I highly doubt that a fix is even possible, but I'm willing to accept if it placates the blonde staring so hopefully at me. "And the second condition?"
"You let me come and visit you once a week…."
The offer comes from nowhere and it both surprises and shocks me. Emma and I irritate each other at the best of times. We're Ying and Yang, light and dark, polar opposites, I can't begin to imagine what she'd have us discuss during these meetings. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the thought of a little company now and again was appealing. I open my mouth to reply but she cuts me off, determined to make an iron clad case for her point.
"It's not healthy for you to cut all contact from the outside world," She presses, unaware that my mind is already made up, "And I can protect myself against you!"
I smile, my most friendly gesture yet, and return my heart to my chest. "Very well, but you have to promise me something too." When her eyes meet mine I reach out, snagging her fingers between mine, "If this gets out of hand and I lose complete control, I want you to promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to ensure that I don't hurt anyone in this town."
Her eyes widen as she interprets my hidden meaning. It's the mirror request of the one she gave me back in Camelot, a promise to end my life if things get too rough.
She hesitates for a brief second, her lips drawing into a thin line, "I promise," She nods, resolutely.
"Then we have a deal."
Standing, she turns to the front door but a stray thought stops her in her tracks. She pauses for long enough to glance back at me over her shoulder, "Regina? It won't come to that," She promises, and we both know she's referring to the proverbial knife in my heart. "Whatever's happening to you, you've come way too far to ever hurt anyone that you care about. I truly that believe that."
I want to believe it too. I want to believe in her, but I can't. Life has taught me never to place hope in anything. I smile sadly, "Once upon a time I believed that I'd never hurt another living soul," I reply, "but unfortunately pain makes us do unspeakable things Miss Swan."
"Maybe," She concedes, "but you're forgetting one thing."
I raise a questioning eyebrow, "And what's that?"
She grins, "You didn't have me then."
"A-and I have you now?" I ask almost shyly.
I expect sarcasm, more heartbreak, anything other than the honest answer she provides, "Always…" She winks. "I'll come and see you on Friday night."
For the first time since Robin's death, I feel my heart soar.
