AN: Sorry for the delay guy's. I wrote chapter 7, hated it, scraped it, and started again. The new version I like, so I hope you do too. Now, to clarify a point that's been confusing a few of you. I purposefully wrote Emma out of character during the mirror scenes in the last chapter because the mirror scenes are from Regina's point of view who – unbeknown to her – is jealous and bitter about Emma's relationship with Hook. Therefore, the affection she witnesses might be exaggerated, and what happened between them on the couch after she stopped watching is very much an assumption. When Emma talks about that incident in a later chapter, we'll see that it didn't end as predicted and that things between Emma and Hook are far from fine. Hope that helps Anyway, as always thank you so much for the fantastic reviews, and hello to my new followers. Hope you enjoy the new chapter and let me know what you think.
Storybrooke ripped in two. Is the Evil Queen responsible?
The Evil Queen.
I stare vacantly at the headline of the Daily Mirror, the cruel words constricting my chest and pressing on my heart, making it hard to breathe. Though the statement is technically true, I will never understand why these fairy-tale folk always assume the worst when it comes to me. Yes, I terrorised them for years. I ruled with an iron fist and a frozen heart, projecting my pain onto people who did nothing to deserve it. I relentlessly hunted a woman for mistakes she made as a child. I was broken, bitter, mentally unstable and haunted by my demons, but I was never the monster that they made of me.
Not a lot of people know that Snow tried to kill me once. She took an unmissable arrow and bribed one of my guards to tell her the exact path my horse would take through the forest. Then she took up position, aimed her deadly weapon at me and pulled back her bow. If Charming hadn't taken the arrow for her I would have died on that day, and she would have been a murderer. Good didn't stop Snow White from killing me, True Love did.
As for Killian Jones, the reformed pirate, as the Dark One he was willing to destroy every single person in Storybrooke. He called on the combined essence of every Dark One that's ever existed. Pulled them back from the Underworld itself to reign havoc down on the innocent. He didn't care about friends, family, the young or the old, he just wanted to exact bloody revenge. Reformation didn't stop him from destroying us all, Emma did.
And then there's the saviour herself, a product of True Love. Henry's book describes her as a hero, a paragon of good in an often dark world. But where was that goodness when she pulled a gun on Lilly at point blank range? Where was the hero when hatred poisoned the very root of her soul? Being the saviour wasn't what stopped Emma from killing Lilly, I was.
So what's the difference between those four stories? What makes Snow, Killian and Emma better than the Evil Queen? The answer is simple, absolutely nothing. All that stands between who I am and who they're perceived to be, is an unforgiving tittle and someone who cares enough to stop you from making a mistake.
There's a reason the people of the Enchanted Forest, of Storybrooke, are ignorant to the life of Regina Mills. There's a reason they remain unaware that I was abused as a child and made to forget my own sister. There's a reason they don't know how I was used and manipulated with the promise of saving my fiancé when Rumple knew that I could never bring Danial back. There's a reason no one's ever stood up and said that I was puppet for the Dark One, a woman with enough power to cast the Dark curse and enough heart break to see it through. The reason is that if they knew any of that, they'd sympathise with me, they'd understand me, and the Evil Queen would no longer pose a threat to them.
Today the people of Storybrooke will read that headline and instantly see me as the threat I once was. Gone is the mayor that built this town and has protected its inhabitants for decades. Gone is the hero who only a few months ago they believed had changed for the better and was finally fighting beside rather than against them. Gone is the woman who just witnessed the death of her second true love. I am the Evil Queen; a villain they hate because of a name they branded me with. And I always will be.
It's all about titles you see, and I have learnt the hard way that all a title serves to do is force you into a false personality that society will either love or loathe. Any title bestowed on you by a population is pure and simple propaganda. Good or bad, right or wrong, those of us who have them, live and die by them.
"Regina?"
Emma's voice seems to come from nowhere, cutting through the silence of my vault and making me jolt from my reverie. I look up to find her stood expectantly in front of the open fire.
"Miss Swan.," I greet tersely, pushing the newspaper under a couch cushion so that she doesn't notice it. "What are you doing here, it isn't Friday?"
"I…" She opens her mouth to respond but the words quickly die on her tongue. Frowning slightly, she tries again, "Well…the ground is shaking."
"You can feel that?" I ask surprised, aware that with my heart taking most of the pain the shaking is kept to a low rumble. The sort of vibration a house makes when heavy traffic passes by on the road.
"Yeah," She replies, apparently as shocked by that revelation as I am. "I guess I must be overly sensitive or something."
She takes the few small steps from the fireplace to the couch and tentatively sits down next to me, "Are you okay?" She asks, and I detect genuine concern in her voice.
"Aside from the obvious, yes," I reply, determined to keep my dark thoughts my own. But she see's straight through my act, her ability to detect a lie a trait that I'd stupidly forgotten. She raises a disbelieving eyebrow and I sigh in irritation, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because the ground is shaking," She reiterates more firmly, "and that hasn't happened since last week."
I grind my teeth in infuriation, her propensity to empathise reminding me a little too much of her mother. "Grief has no concept of time, Miss Swan!" I bark, hoping that she'll realise that the topic is not one up for discussion.
Thankfully, stupidity is not something she inherited from her parents. "Okay, I'm sorry," She quickly apologises, "I was only asking. And can we drop the Miss Swan, I feel like I'm back in school."
Silence falls between us and the atmosphere grows tense, but unlike her first trip to my vault it's not awkward, merely intrusive. It reminds me of one of the first real conversations I had with Daniel, when our friendship was new and though we wanted to press each other for more information, we didn't yet trust that we could.
"You don't have to stay on my account," I finally state, alarmed by the strange path of my thoughts and suddenly eager to rid myself of the unsure, uncertain feeling brewing deep inside. "I'm not so emotional that I'm about to rip the town in half."
She half laughs at that, "I know, I trust you, but I'm here now so you might as well tell me if you've discovered anything about your…" She struggles to find the right word, "condition."
"You don't have to say it as though I have some sort of disease," I reply, rolling my eyes at her analogy. "I'm not the first person that's ever suffered a broken heart."
Her grin widens, a cheeky dimple making an unexpected appearance, "No, but most people don't bring about earthquakes with their pain." At my unimpressed glance the amusement quickly drains from her face, "So have you learnt anything?" She presses more seriously.
I shake my head, thinking back to the endless pages of handwritten notes that I've spent the last few days trawling through. "Nothing even remotely helpful," I sigh, "I've read all my mother's notes on hearts, as the queen of them you'd assume she'd have had a little more insight but unfortunately, I fear that most of her opinions are fantasy at best."
"Why?"
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, "Because the closet she came to explaining my problem was unexpressed true love," I explain, uncertain why such a subject embarrasses me. "She believed that when two true loves lived in close proximity to each other without ever declaring how they felt, it could literally rip a town in two…"
Emma's frown returns, deeper this time, and I realise with abject horror that she's actually considering the theory, "But that doesn't explain why it's also ripping your heart in two?" She questions.
"Because it's nothing more than the perverse thoughts of a mad woman that's why," I'm quick to inform, "And just who exactly do you think would be my unexpressed true love in this sickening town of fairy-tale characters anyway? Grumpy? Granny?"
She laughs at that, and I know that's she's picturing me wooing Widow Lucas with a bunch of flowers and a new crossbow. I find that I don't appreciate her sense of humour in the matter.
"I was thinking more along the lines of someone we haven't met," She finally replies good naturedly. "You're a little touchy today, I'm beginning to understand why the ground was shaking."
I give her one of my patented death glares and she has the sense to sheepishly look away. Unfortunately for me however, her attention only goes as far as the corner of the paper which is sticking out from beneath the cushion. She quickly pulls it free to reveal the front cover in all its gruesome detail.
"Oh Regina you didn't read the newspaper?" She chastises, "Why would you do that?"
"Why wouldn't I?" I reply indigently. "I'm the mayor of this town and it's my job to know its business."
She cocks her head to one side, a mannerism I'm almost certain a misbehaving Henry is familiar with, "You don't believe this do you?" She asks.
"No," I state, too proud to admit the truth. "But they do."
She sighs heavily, folding the paper in half and dropping it into her lap, "It's just a story that sells papers…"
"And Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is a story that sells books," I argue, "but I'm not any less of a villain."
Another shorter silence passes between us, one in which I can see her studying me from the corner of my eye. "This is what's upset you isn't it?" She concludes, assessing my forlorn expression and putting two and two together.
It takes me a minute to decide whether or not I'm comfortable opening up to the blonde. We may be friends but that friendship is still new and untested. Not so long ago we were enemies.
In the end, I take a gamble on whatever this is between us, and let her see a side of me that no one ever has. "Why won't they just see me?" I wonder aloud, "Why has no one ever just seen me?"
She smiles sadly, "Henry just sees you."
"After a year of trying to convince you to destroy me," I remind.
"Robin…"
"Hated me in the Enchanted Forest," I interrupt, cutting her off before she can say something that simply isn't true. "He saw the same Evil Queen as everyone else."
There's a beat, a still, silent moment before Emma takes a deep breath and says, "I see you."
The words are whispered, barely there at all, but in the silence of my vault they sound louder than anything. I look up, staring deep into emerald eyes that only reflect the truth of my words. She does see me, and I think that she's the first person that ever has.
"Emma…" My voice trails off as I find myself speechless, unable to formulate a reply to such a meaningful confession. She's quick to fill the silence that threatens once more.
"I do," She states truthfully, "I don't think I've ever told you this but the first time I read your story in Henry's book, I didn't hate you. I didn't even think you were a villain. I just…" She smiles that sad, wistful smile again, "I felt so sad for you. I have never seen you as the Evil Queen. To me, you've always been, Regina."
I swallow sharply, my heart beating so hard in my chest that I fear it may try to break through. No one has ever said that to me. No one has ever tried to see past my sins as if they're somehow inconsequential to who I am. Surprisingly, I find myself fighting tears.
"You thought I killed Dr Hopper," It's a weak argument at best but right now, it's one that I need to make. She quickly brushes it aside.
"You're right I did," She agrees, "I thought you killed Archie, not the Evil Queen."
I don't miss the importance of the emphasis she places on the you and I truly believe that when she accused me, she was accusing the mayor of Storybrooke, "I'm not sure there's a difference," I reply sadly.
"Of course there is," Emma corrects with an affectionate chuckle. "Regina Mills is a woman with a tragic and unfair past. The Evil Queen is just a crazy, vain, bitch who has an unnatural obsession with apples." She offers me a sly wink, "Besides you're prettier."
I have no idea where this easiness came from between us but suddenly, I feel safe in her presence. Safe enough to return a compliment of my own anyway, "Well for a child of the Charming's you're not so bad yourself," I tease. "And though it pains me to say this, your mother doesn't sing like she's underwater."
We laugh together, the sort of laugh that only occurs when you feel completely comfortable in someone else's presence, but the mood quickly turns serious again.
"It really bothers you doesn't it?" She asks once the laughter has died, "That after all this time they still just see the Evil Queen."
I think about the question, about my lonely thoughts from earlier, and for once feel compelled to speak from the heart.
"We followed you to the Underworld when your heart was broken," I begin, trying to explain the sense of injustice I feel in way that she'll understand. "If this," I gesture to my heart, "was happening to your mother everyone would rally around her and try to help ease her suffering. But because it's me they just automatically assume that I'm doing it for revenge, to hurt them, because someone like me couldn't possibly love anyone enough to feel true pain."
Her expression falls, the curiosity in her eyes turning to deep sadness, and that's when I realise that she gets it. "Well if they believe that then they clearly have very short memories," She replies.
I frown, "What do you mean?"
"I've never forgotten what Zelena said about your heart. And neither has Snow, or David, or Henry. You have the biggest heart, a heart capable of feeling so much deeper than any other. When put into perspective it really isn't all that surprising that you'd react the way you did to the deaths of the only men you've ever loved."
I feel the first tear break free and quickly reach up to wipe it away, but these aren't tears of grief or sorrow, they're tears of joy. Tears of happiness for finally knowing what it feels like to have someone understand, to have someone that cares. Maybe if I'd had Emma Swan by my side in the Enchanted Forest, things would have turned out very differently indeed.
"It doesn't matter," I finally reply, aware that though she's on my side, no one else is. "They'll never change their opinion of me."
She shrugs nonchalant, "It's a title, one that they gave you out of fear, so change it with love."
"Don't you think I've tried?" My voice is harsher than intended, harsher than she deserves, but with all the good I've done it's hard to believe that I'm not fighting a losing battle. "I've risked my life for this town and somehow it still isn't enough," I explain, "Yet all Hook had to do was flash his pearly white teeth and show of his ruggedly handsome good looks. Why does he get a second chance when I don't? Why does Zelena or Rumple, or Hades? Is this my punishment?"
She shuffles slightly on the couch, tucking her legs up under her so she can turn and face me. "Did you ever hear about the notorious bandit that stalked the Enchanted Forest?" She begins, "Or the wicked witch who was so jealous she turned herself green? Or the vicious wolf that ate her own boyfriend? Or the trickster that killed a little boy's parents? Or the puppet that lied so much he lost his chance to be a real boy…?"
"I see your point Miss Swan," I huff, cutting her abruptly off. "You don't have to recount every tale in Henry's book."
"Do you though?" She fires back just as passionately, "Because all of those characters, names, titles, there not so very different from the one about the Evil Queen who cast a curse to enact her revenge."
I cast her a doubtful look, unwilling to believe that their minor indiscretions even compare to my heinous crimes, but she refuses to let her argument go.
"Have you ever heard the tale of an orphan so wild she kept running away from her foster home?" She continues, "Or the teenage tearaway thief who had to give birth in jail? Or the ex-con who had the gall to call herself a saviour?"
Aware that she's talking about herself, I fold my arms impatiently, "What's your point?"
"My point," She concludes feistily, "is that everyone has a good and bad side. Everyone is labelled. You're a fairy-tale villain in a children's book, but fairy-tales don't exist. Life is more complex than that, people are more complex than that." She reaches out to prod a finger to my breastbone, "And you, Regina Mills, are so much more than her," She nods to the paper still in her lap, "You just have to believe it."
At her impassioned speech, I feel a jolt of pure pleasure explode from my heart. Unnervingly, it quickly rushes downwards, seeking out lower, far more sensitive areas. I gasp at the feeling of sudden arousal and rush to remove the offending organ before a moan is torn from my lips.
"What was that?" Emma asks, eyes wide as she studies the blackened heart now resting in the palm of my hand.
"I- I don't know," I stammer, flustered by the unexpected burst of lust and my uncontrollable reaction to it. I honestly have no idea what just happened, but I've never experienced such a rush of feeling before.
A flash of heat from the organ in my hand draws my attention down to it and I'm shocked to see that the very top of the tear is magically knitting back together. "My heart its…it's healing a little!"
"How?"
The question is one I can't answer and if I'm truthful, one I'm reluctant and a little scared to try and find out.
My eyes meet Emma's in shared amazement, "I don't know!"
"Well see if you can try to figure it out," She instructs, unaware that the hot pulse of desire is still coursing through my veins. "Whatever it was, we need to do it again and more often."
At her suggestion, a ghost shiver of arousal seems to caress my heart, almost as if her words are physically stroking it. I flush again, and quickly turn away before she notices.
"I'll let you know," I reply, my voice unusually strained.
"Are you going to be okay?"
Despite the moment that just occurred between us, her concern is still present. It's fast turning into the one thing I can rely on.
"Yes, thank you," I reply, surprised when my desire is quickly replaced with irrational anger as I catch her glancing at her watch.
The thought that she's probably going home to her undeserving boyfriend annoys me, his company doesn't seem good enough for her after the intimacy we just shared.
"I'm sorry to keep you so long" I blurt out spontaneously, "Is Hook waiting for you?"
I regret the words as soon as they're out, realising that they make me sound like a jealous lover. At her raised eyebrows, I'm quick in my efforts to take it back, "I'm sorry, that's none of my business."
For a moment I think that she'll storm out the vault without responding but then she does something that she's managed to do a lot just recently, she surprises me.
"I said I might text him when I'm done but I don't think I'll bother," She replies with a casual shrug of her shoulders.
Despite her light response I can sense something hidden underneath, an uncertainty or reluctance. Though whether its directed at me or her relationship I'm unsure.
"Emma, is everything alright between the two of you?" I inquire, before suddenly fearing that our friendship hasn't yet reached a level comfortable enough for girl talk. "Don't feel obliged to answer, but after our conversation the other day…"
"Its fine," She cuts in, probably too quickly for someone supposedly living their happily ever after. "Everything's great or at least, unchanged…"
Her voice trails off and I'm quick to say the words that she won't, "I feel there's a but somewhere in there!"
"There is but…" She smiles sadly and all I can think is how I want to make that smile go away. How I only want to see that goofy, happy smile of her fathers that I used to loath so much. "I think it's just me pushing him away like I do everyone else that gets close," She adds after a beat, "I just need time, and space, and I'm sure we'll be great again."
I ignore the doubt niggling in my conscience as I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure too," I promise emptily.
She shakes her head as if ridding it if unwanted thoughts, "Anyway, I didn't come here for me."
Picking up the newspaper that started this whole conversation she raises it between us and rips it completely in half. "That's what you should have done when you first read this," She says. "Yes, you're the Evil Queen and that will never change. But you're also a mayor, a daughter, a sister, a mother…" green eyes study my face intently, "you're so beautiful…"
For a split second I honestly believe that she's about to lean in and kiss me, but the moment passes so quickly that the second it's gone I begin to doubt that it ever happened.
"And you're my best friend," She finally adds, though whether she's informing me or reminding herself I'm uncertain. "Those are the names you need to focus on now. Those are the titles that matter."
"Thank you," I smile, reaching up to gently brush her cheek with the back of my hand, "I mean that. You might have just saved me tonight."
She returns my smile with one of her wide, beautiful ones, "It was my pleasure," She replies, still too close to be called friendly. "Goodnight, Gina."
Her affectionate nickname causes something to stir inside me, something that I've never felt before, a connection that just seems to make sense. Maybe my mother's notes on hearts are worth more than a fleeting glance after all.
I smile warmly and allow her to stand.
"Goodnight, Emma."
