AN: Wow guy's, we've hit 100 follows! Thank you so much, you're all amazing! First off, I need to apologise for the tiny Captain Swan moment in this chapter. It is necessary for story development and there's plenty Swan Queen fluff to make up for it. Secondly, I apologise in advance for any glaring mistakes. As always, I hope you enjoy it, and thank you all for your continued support. Let me know what you think!
Tuesday Morning
Henry is unusually quiet at the breakfast table. He chases his cereal around the bowl with his spoon but doesn't actually eat any of it.
Emma notices as she leans against the sink, looking up from Killian's affections for long enough to register the downcast look on her son's face.
"Are you okay kid?" She asks, ignoring the soft kisses Hook trails down her throat.
Henry shrugs in reply but remains silent, and the root of his sadness quickly becomes obvious to all present.
"I know you miss Regina, lad," The pirate states, trying and failing to offer comfort. "But she's made the right decision. She needs to be in her vault for her own protection…"
Henry looks up, fearful in the realisation that if freed his adoptive mother would be in danger from the townsfolk. Opposite him, Emma growls in disgust, roughly pushing her lover away at his thoughtless insinuation.
XXX
Wednesday Afternoon
Emma leans back in her chair, propping her feet up on her desk, "So you're here because Blue sent you?"
"Officially, yes," Tink replies sheepishly. "Unofficially…" She takes a deep breath, "Blue can sense a rise in dark magic. I can sense a rise in Regina's dark magic. I know you'll find this hard to believe but Regina and I were close once. I know how hard she's been trying to redeem herself and I'm more than aware that I'm the one who led her to Robin in the first place."
Emma takes a bite of her bear claw, speaking around a full mouth and sugar-coated lips, "So you want to help her?" She asks doubtfully.
"Yeah," Tink nods, offering the sheriff a genuine smile, "I guess I do."
Wednesday night
After a milkshake at Granny's, Henry's walking down the street hand in hand with Violet. He looks nervous, scared, that uncomfortable feeling that comes with knowing that the night is about to end and you're totally unsure how to end it.
The young couple stop outside Archie's office, turning to face each other under the stars. Their eyes lock, a moment of inexperienced hesitation, and then the author takes a leaf out of his grandfather's book, and leans in to say goodnight.
Henry's first date ends with his first kiss.
XXX
Thursday Morning
Emma is at Rumple's shop, watching as the Dark One fusses over the placing of Pandora's Box. It starts out on the glass counter, then moves to the wall safe, and then after a quick shake of his head and a muttered 'no', ends up on a shelf with a host of other magical trinkets.
The Sheriff clears her throat impatiently, a not so subtle reminder that she's still waiting for an answer to the question she asked several minutes before. The sound seems to pull the shop owner from his untimely distraction.
"You don't need me to help you, Miss Swan," he finally replies, barely concealing the irritation in his voice. "The Queens heart is figuratively and literally broken, her pain the vessel that is allowing her dark magic to consume her. The answer is the same now as it always was. Only true love can save her."
Emma's shoulders slump in disappointment, an expected solution to an impossible problem, "But Robin is dead!" She reminds him, as if the Dark One had somehow missed the last five days.
"That I know, and yet, true love remains."
"Are you saying that Robin wasn't Regina's true love?" Emma demands, her frustration mounting when Rumple refuses to elaborate. "At least tell me that, I know you can see the future!"
"Yes I can," Rumple grins, laughing giddily in a way that Emma hasn't heard for years. "But you've got nothing I want, Dearie, and I'm not in the habit of giving information away for free."
He turns his back on her, the sole focus of his attention returning to his trapped wife. Emma immediately begins to plot a new strategy, pulling out her phone and cancelling her lunch plans with Killian before hastily exiting the small shop.
XXX
Thursday Night
"You really want to watch that?" Emma asks, glancing distastefully down at the Hook DVD Killian holds in his hand. "It doesn't exactly show you in the best light?"
The pirate seems to consider the Saviour's advice, studying the cover with strange curiosity, "Well admittedly this fellow has nothing on my rugged good looks. And I'd have never had such a ridiculous moustache, but if he's dashingly charming and frighteningly devilish, I think we'll get on just fine."
The blonde flops down on the empty couch, tired after a frustrating day at work. "He's a murderer!" She argues, uncertain why she suddenly dislikes one of her favourite childhood films. "He repeatedly tries to kill the lost boys…"
Hook grins, "Well at least we've got that in common," he replies opening the case and inserting the DVD into the player. He sits down next to his girlfriend, "I had a few scrapes with them myself back in the day."
Emma's eyes widen in shock, "They're children!"
"Who worked for the father of the Dark One," Killian reminds, pressing a chaste kiss to the blonde's lips. "Don't worry Swan, I'm a changed man now, and I've found a much better place to plunge my sword…"
The euphemism isn't lost on Emma and she smiles wickedly, "Maybe you could give me a personal demonstration," She drawls seductively.
Snaking a hand around her lover's neck, she pulls him down on top of her, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss
The film is quickly forgotten.
XXX
Friday Afternoon
Emma strides down Main Street, trying to escape the seven dwarves that chase after her.
"All we want to know is what the Sheriff plans to do about it?" Asks Grumpy, panting slightly with the effort of trying to keep up with the blonde.
The Saviour whirls around, stopping so abruptly that her followers all bump into each other. "I plan to help her!" She replies firmly, "Regina, is our friend."
"Regina is the Evil Queen!" Doc corrects, as if the fact is something Emma could so easily forget.
"Listen, Sister," Grumpy cuts back in, talking before the Sheriff can even get a chance. "We get that she's changed, and we understand that you and her have that whole 'best buddies' thing going on but…" He puffs out a breath, "That woman is ripping this town in half, so I think it's safe to say that she's no longer willing to play nice. All we're saying is that if the police aren't willing to do anything about her, then me and my brothers are!"
Visibly angered, Emma steps up to the self-appointed leader, "And all I'm saying, is that if you go within ten feet of Regina, I will arrest every single one of you and throw your asses in jail until this is over. Have I made myself clear?"
The warning tone of her voice is enough for Grumpy and his gang to take a careful step back. No further words are spoken as Emma turns on her heel and continues on her way.
XXX
I stare at the inactive mirror on the wall of my vault. It's Friday night, just after eight, and Emma has yet to make an appearance. For the tenth time in as many minutes, I consider using the mirror to see where she is, or if she's even remembered the part of our deal that has her coming to see me once a week. In truth, it wouldn't surprise me if she's forgotten. I'm the sort of person that easily slips one's mind, and I'm certain that I'm not on her list of weekend priorities.
But the reminder of some of the more distasteful events I've witnessed this week, are enough to change my mind. Don't get me wrong, it was a pleasant surprise to see Tink offer to help Emma save me, and witnessing Henry's first kiss was something I never otherwise would have had the opportunity to do. But hearing the joy in Rumple's voice when he spoke of my condition, and seeing the hatred that the dwarves still harbour for me…it hurt. And that's before I even contemplate the nauseating scene I had to watch unfold on Emma's couch…
"Regina?"
As if thought alone pulled her to me, Emma appears at the bottom of the vaults stone steps.
"In here," I call out, directing her through to the inner chamber while trying to mask the relief in my voice. When I agreed to the deal, I never thought I'd actually look forward to the blonde's visits, but it seems that a week on my own has left me craving company. Even if it is that of a Charming.
"Hey," She greets, smiling warmly as she enters the small room. She stops in the entranceway, thrusting her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans. "How you doing?"
The question is so Emma Swan, simple and ridiculous yet from a place of genuine concern, that I can't help but offer a half smile of my own. "As well as can be expected," I reply, glancing at my watch, "I see you're as punctual as always!"
I don't mean to sound angry or sarcastic, but this antagonistic banter is a natural form of communication for us. She'd be surprised if I greeted her any differently.
She raises an eyebrow, and begins a slow walk around the room, stopping at various objects that catch her interest, "I said I'd see you Friday night," She quips, tossing a look over shoulder, "I didn't specify a time!"
I roll my eyes at the disorganisation that seems to encompass my life every time Emma enters it, but refrain from my usual biting comment. Instead, I watch quietly as she picks up several potion bottles and holds them up to the artificial light. Her brow creases in curiosity at each individual one, before she replaces them all and moves on to an open box of jewellery.
The box belonged to my mother, and though there's nothing inside that I'd ever find of use, I can't bring myself to get rid of it after saying goodbye to her in the Underworld.
"Well this is gloriously awkward…" I state, when the seemingly endless silence stretches on between us.
She doesn't look up from her inspection of a gold signet ring as she replies, "What is?"
I take a deep breath, amazed by her continued stupidity, but then I can hardly hold her to account for her unfortunate DNA. "This not talking," I explain, "You said you wanted to come and see me once a week. I didn't realise that meant that's all you'd be doing."
My sharp tone finally catches her attention and she turns to face me, "Hey, you're more than welcome to start a conversation, your majesty!" She offers, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"What topic do you suggest I pick? The contents of this utterly boring magic book I've been reading," I retort, picking up said book for emphasis, "Or a debate on the exact colour of the stone walls?"
She rolls her eyes in much the same way that I just did, and comes over to sit next to me, "Yeah, I get it, you're bored!" She replies. "I guess I should have brought a bottle of wine with me or something, it might have made this a little easier…"
"I have apple cider?" I suggest, grateful for the distraction.
She nods, "That'll do."
I stand and walk over to the large shelf that holds my crystal decanter, pouring two large measures of the strong liquor. Taking a large sip of mine, I hand the other one to the blonde.
She takes it with an appreciative nod, sniffing the contents before taking a tentative sip, "Why do you think this is so hard?" She finally asks.
I sit back down, taking the time to properly consider her question, "Because we normally only talk when our very existence is threatened," I reply, realising how little time we've spent in each other's company when not in immediate danger. "I'm not sure that we've ever just sat down and had a conversation."
She raises her eyebrows in silent agreement, and takes another sip of her drink. The silence encompasses the small room once more, both of us searching for a suitable topic of conversation or a shared interest. It's Emma that finally comes up with the solution.
"So what have you been doing to keep yourself busy?" She asks, staring straight ahead like some nervous teenager.
"Reading mainly," I reply, unable to comprehend why the art of conversation is suddenly proving so difficult, "Catching up on some paperwork."
"And when you need a shower or…." Her voice trails off, and I quickly interrupt her before she can embarrass us both by making reference to my bathroom habits.
"I magic myself back to the manor for a short time," I inform.
Her cheeks pink slightly, "Right, of course."
She clears her throat and I fixate my attention on a notch in the wall, the unexplained tension rising between us. When the silence becomes so loud that I actually hear her swallow a mouthful of cider, I decide to put an end to our childish behaviour.
"I feel I should thank you Miss Swan," I begin, turning my head to look at the blonde. "The last time we spoke I was…abrasive, and since then you've gone out if your way to help and defend me."
"It's okay," She replies, shrugging like it's no big deal, "I did tell you to stay away from Henry. I'd have been pissed too." She sighs, her eyes daring to drift to mine, "I'm sorry I said those things to you. I'm sorry I accused you of something you didn't do."
I feel guilty for not admitting that I probably did cause her dream. I mean, what other reason could there be for us both dreaming the same thing? But despite the awkwardness between us it feels as though we're finally getting to a good place, and I don't want to ruin our progress by telling her something that she won't appreciate hearing. Maybe when I figure out why I created the dream I'll be in a better place to explain it to her, but for now, things are best left as they are.
"I think you've more than made up for it since then," I reply sheepishly. "I saw the cautious way you spoke to Tink, the way you were willing to make a deal with Rumple. I even saw you threaten the dwarves…"
"Wait, you've…you've been spying on me?"
I feel the colour rise in my cheeks and quickly look away, "Not you specifically," I hastily correct, terrified that she reads more into it then is really there. "Henry mainly, and the town. I saw Henry have his first kiss…"
"Don't you think that's a little creepy?" She asks, frowning in mild disapproval.
"I was protecting him!" I reply, offended that she'd think I'd do it for any other reason. "Besides, when you've spent most of your life looking out from a magical mirror you lose the meaning of privacy."
Her expression instantly softens, "That sounds so…lonely…"
"Don't pity me, Miss Swan," I growl, raising my defences to protect them from further pain and mocking.
She gives me a disbelieving look, "I think you can call me, Emma," She states firmly, "And I wasn't pitying you. I just never realised your life was like that."
Despite the Evil Queens best efforts to lash out, I can hear the sincerity in her voice. She's not trying to taunt me, to get a rise out of the darkness inside, her words stem from genuine empathy.
"Of course you didn't," I reply, far more viciously than intended. "By every definition I'm a fairy-tale princess, a queen. Everyone assumes my life to be sunshine, rainbows and talking animals!"
"You were a princess?" She repeats, green eyes wide with surprise. Sometimes I forget just how little she knows about me. "But wasn't Cora a miller's daughter?"
"As my surname would suggest," I nod, "But my father was a prince. Though he never would have been king and that was the one fault that my mother couldn't abide." I take a deep breath, the memory of her abuse stretching the tear in my heart. "She always wanted power, through royalty or magic she didn't care, and when her own plan failed, she forced that ambition on me."
Emma reaches out to place a caring hand on my back and the touch instantly eases the hollow ache in my chest.
"I'm sorry," She says gently, "No one should have to endure what you did."
The words feel like a much needed hug, a reminder of the love and support that my teenage self was never granted, but the feeling doesn't last. Yes, my mother used me abhorrently, but that doesn't excuse the suffering a brought to others. To Emma.
"And no one should have to grow up parentless in a foreign realm, wondering everyday who her parents were and why they abandoned her," I reply, resting my hand on the one that has now slipped up to rest on my shoulder. "You played no part in my misery Miss…Emma, but I was wholly responsible for yours."
Releasing my hand, she traces her finger along the rim of her glass, "I've been thinking about that a lot actually," She says, deep in thought. "You said if Hook hadn't come to Storybrooke then Robin wouldn't have died and though I disagree that it's his fault, you are right."
At my questioning look she continues, "All of our lives are carved from the misfortune and ambition of others. Henry's from mine, mine from yours, yours from your mother and Rumple. All the way back to my Grandmother and the start of the White/Mills family feud." She takes a sip of her drink, "I'm not sure that any one individual is responsible, and I certainly don't believe that it's all down to you."
To hear someone exonerate me from blame in such a simplistic fashion causes a lump to form in my throat and I swallow sharply, fearing the strength of my voice.
"I used to think that everything happened for a reason," I reply, admitting a weakness that I've never confessed to anyone before, "That all these bad things would make me stronger. That they were tests to lead me to my happy ending. But misery just led to more misery and in the end…well I guess I've just given up hope."
"How do you know this isn't all part of that test?" Emma challenges, her voice soft. "How do you know that you're happy ending isn't still out there, waiting for you to find it?"
I laugh sadly, "Because I loved, Daniel, and I loved, Robin. If I had a true love then I've lost it, and even I know that we only get so many chances at happiness."
I pause to take a mouthful of cider, relishing the burn as it slips down my throat, "I'm sorry for what I said about Hook being a murderer and a rapist," I apologise, "I was angry and…I know that's no excuse…"
"Was it true?"
I sigh, wetting my lips as I carefully consider my response. Of course it's true, Killian was as much a villain as any of us, but is that really something that Emma needs to know?
"Does it matter?" I ask, cleverly evading the question. "Whoever he was, he's changed. The root of my anger stems from people judging me on my past sins and I did the same to him. He's your happy ending, Emma, don't let my bitterness cloud your judgement."
She breaks eye contact, tilting her glass and looking down to watch the cider slosh around inside it, "So why do you think the heart split didn't work?"
The question is quiet, barely muttered, "Excuse me?" I prompt, uncertain I heard her correctly.
Her eyes flick to mine, "When you tried to split our hearts in the Underworld, it didn't work," She repeats, "Why?"
I smile warmly, amazed how someone so strong can have such childish fears, "I told you, he'd been dead too long by then," I reply, happy to quell her doubt. "Besides, you both passed the true love test…"
She exhales through her nose and downs the rest of her drink, "You know I'm not so sure that we did!" She admits truthfully.
Shocked, I frown in silent question, and she quickly jumps to explain the reasoning behind her theory, "Only my heart was tested," She informs glumly. "If it were a test of our shared love shouldn't it have tested both our hearts?"
I don't offer a response because I'm certain that I don't need one. It's impossible to test true love without seeing inside both hearts, even a fool knows that.
"The test made me save his life," Emma continues with a small shrug, "and now no matter how hard I try, I can't help but think that all it proved is that I'm the product of true love. Of course I saved his life, I'm the goddamn Saviour!"
"Emma, are you saying that you don't love, Hook?"
I can hardly believe the question that leaves my lips, especially after everything we went through – everything we sacrificed – to bring him back. But though I know I should be angry, I find that I can't hate her for losing faith.
"No, I do love him," She replies, resolute. "I'm just beginning to doubt that it's true love. If it was true love, then his kiss would have saved me from the darkness wouldn't it?"
"In theory yes," I agree somewhat reluctantly, "but magic is complicated, Emma. I never shared true loves kiss with Daniel or Robin but I don't doubt my feelings for either of them."
"I don't doubt my feelings for, Killian either," She states bluntly, "but..." Her voice trails off as though she's searching for an explanation she can't find, "Don't you hope for something more?" She asks, searching my expression, "Something that just works without any effort?"
I think of the obstacles I faced with Daniel, the insurmountable differences between Robin and I, and I can't help but agree.
"Like Charming and Snow?" I scoff, unwilling to admit that the blonde has a point. She nods. "I'm starting to believe that whatever they have, is unique," I explain, "Follow your heart, Emma, it knows what it wants."
She shoots me a disbelieving look, "And when did you last follow yours?" She demands.
I smile sadly, "When it led me to, Robin," I reply, thinking of the bold move I made when I went to the forest and kissed him. "But clearly my heart is defective, and now apparently broken."
"Rumple told me…"
I instinctively know that she's about to tell me about the dire state of my most vital organ and quickly cut her off, "I know, I watched the whole conversation."
She raises her eyebrows, "So you also know that he said true love remains?"
I nod, and release a small sigh, "He once told me that I could resurrect, Daniel," I argue lightly, "Now I take little of what he says as fact."
Placing her empty glass on the stone plinth next to us, she reaches out to take my hand in hers once more, squeezing it reassuringly.
"We will fix your heart, Regina," She promises, "Together. I'm sure of it."
I offer her a weak smile and she studies me closely, using her free hand to tilt my chin up and force me to make eye contact with her, "You don't believe me do you?" She asks, surprised.
When I look into her eyes I see the strength of the hope held deep within, the determination, and for the first time ever I find myself grateful that she's a Charming.
"I believe that you believe," I reply earnestly, "Maybe that's enough!"
Silence descends on the vault once more only this time it's comforting, and suddenly sitting with Emma Swan doesn't feel like a torturous condition of an unwanted deal.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world.
