All right, friends, this story is back. I apologize for leaving off so abruptly before - I ran into some writer's block and a really, really hard year at school. And then I got caught up in RPing and another long story. But after finishing "Savior," I got some of my SQ mojo back.
I apologize for any inconsistencies or continuity problems that might occur because of my long break. Thanks for sticking with me and thanks for your patience.
"I'm not going without her."
"Just do what they say, Emma," Regina urged her. "Don't get yourself into more trouble. I'll be fine."
Regina had no idea how long they'd been locked up, but her best guess was a few hours. Everything had been quiet and the girls had retreated to the back corner where their cells met and sat side by side, backs against the wall and hands meeting between the bars.
And then, out of nowhere, the guards had swarmed in, unlocking Emma's cell. Regina watched in horror as they wrestled the blonde away, cuffing her again. She fought them, not to get free but to get back to Regina. It would have been romantic if it wasn't so terrifying.
"Please," Regina begged, and Emma stopped struggling long enough to meet her eyes.
Emma didn't say anything in response, but she went easily when they walked her out of the cell. She kept her gaze on the brunette until they took her out the door.
It was within a few minutes of Emma going that the weight of it all, of the truth, knocked the wind out of Regina. She was in a strange place, and in trouble, and no one would know how to find her. Together she and Emma had been able to pretend everything was all right, but now that she was alone she let herself cry, fingers digging into the leather jacket as she held herself.
"Careful!" Snow rose to her feet, horrified by the way her guards thrust the girl into the room. True, she might merely be a common criminal, but there was a chance, however small, that she was royalty.
"She was putting up quite a struggle, Your Highness," one of the guards said, although he reached out to steady Emma.
It was true, Emma had to admit. She'd fought all the way to the carriage, and on the short ride, and as they led her into the cottage that the army had commandeered for this meeting.
At the words "Your Highness," she stopped fighting, pushing her worry about being so far from Regina aside as she looked at her mother.
"Uncuff her," the woman said, and she repeated herself when the guards didn't move the first time.
The Queen's worn face went radiant as their eyes met, Snow finally looking like herself again. She came closer and reached out a hand towards the girl. Emma didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't even breathe.
Snow couldn't say how she knew, and she would be asked that very question many times. There was certainly a resemblance, but so many of the girls who had been paraded before her over the years had such similarities. None of the others had fooled her for a second. She'd always been good at telling when someone was lying to her.
This girl wasn't lying, she was merely uncertain. And she wasn't smiling. She wasn't desperate to be loved; in fact, she expected the opposite.
Most of all it was the eyes. Snow had crouched by the wardrobe with Emma in her arms for several minutes trying to choose the safest path for her child, and she'd stared into the baby's green eyes as she did so. She often had trouble remembering what her daughter had looked like, but her eyes were always vivid in her memory, and now they were staring out at her from the girl before her.
"It is you," the Queen sobbed, pulling Emma tightly into her arms.
Emma wasn't sure how to react. She'd spent so many years hating the nameless, faceless parents that had abandoned her, and that hate had especially flamed up since she'd been kicked out of her foster home. Knowing that her parents did want her, that they'd merely lost her, softened the blow, but Emma was still unsure how to react to this bizarre situation. She found herself longing for Regina again. Regina might not know what to do any more than Emma did, but at least she'd be able to offer a warm smile.
"Regina," she said firmly, glancing over her shoulder at the men who were lingering there awkwardly. "She's still locked up. Please."
Snow nodded. "Do what she says. Give her anything she wants." She drew back to look at her daughter again, cupping a hand to Emma's cheek. "My Emma," she whispered reverently. "You found your way back."
Emma smiled uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to. I didn't know." She shrugged and added, partially as a test, "I just kissed Regina and suddenly we were here."
She knew it would disappoint any mother to find out her long-lost daughter wasn't all she expected. And Emma wasn't about to allow herself to hope that this mother would accept her when it couldn't be true. When everyone except Regina had always pushed her away once they learned about her sexuality or any of the other million things that were wrong with her.
She'd rather break both their hearts now, before they let each other in.
To her surprise, though, Snow just kept beaming. "You've found true love, then," she said, pulling Emma into another hug. "You've found happiness."
"Not a lot," Emma admitted, stiff and uncomfortable in the embrace. "But with Regina, yeah."
"That's all I ever wanted for you, to find the kind of love that you were born of." Snow stroked Emma's hair. "The kind of love that will end this war."
"I don't know…"
"I do." Snow pulled back, taking Emma's hands in hers. "And if it helped you find your love, maybe all this suffering was worth it."
Emma thought back over the difficulties of her own life. The idea that she could have been raised by real parents, and as a princess no less, was hard to wrap her head around. But the idea of never having met Regina… She could just see the other girl, still in her prom dress, still standing there with her heel caught in a grate. And while she knew Regina could handle herself, Emma couldn't help thinking that she'd been meant to save her.
No matter how much Emma's life sucked, she'd been there for a reason.
Regina lifted her head from where she'd been resting it against the bars when she heard the commotion from downstairs. She'd been hopeful at first, with the sound of men moving around, maybe signaling Emma's return. But then she could hear the violence erupt, the clashing of swords, and she went rigid with terror.
What this meant, she couldn't imagine, but it couldn't be good.
There were noises from some of the other prisoners, rather upbeat ones, but Regina kept to herself. She stayed there in the back corner of her cell when the door from the stairwell opened and a handful of men in red uniforms charged in. The others were cheering, up against the fronts of their cells. Regina just watched as these men smashed the locks to let people go.
One of the white guards, a bearded man who Regina thought might have been part of the group that took Emma from her, charged into the midst of the red men, sword drawn. "Take who you must," he told the man who appeared to be in charge of the red attack, "but leave the girl. By order of the queen."
The leader in red just scoffed. "I only take orders from the king," he said before running the guard through with his sword.
Regina clapped both hands over her mouth. This man had been stabbed, was bleeding and suffering, all for her sake. It was more than she could handle, and she let out a ragged sob. God, she needed Emma here. She needed something normal, something safe. To wake in her old bed, in her old life, this crazy string of events no more than a dream.
Instead, the man in red pulled his sword from the crumpled body before him and smashed the hilt against the lock of Regina's door, breaking it off in a few strokes. She was too horrified to fight when he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her from the cell, forcing her to step over the dead body on the way out of the prison. Downstairs, the carnage was even worse. There were so many bodies to pick her way between.
How could she be from a place like this? How could a place like this, with this much violence and this much war, even exist?
Her fellow prisoners didn't looked fazed, almost looked happy. Regina was herded into a cart with those escapees who were too old or injured to walk on their own, and she stared, dazed, at the last place she'd seen Emma as the horse pulled them away.
Snow White hadn't imagined that she'd have to comfort her daughter so soon. Or that she would have absolutely no idea how to do so.
Emma hadn't spoken since the messenger arrived with news of the bloodbath at the prison. Charming's men hadn't left a single soldier or guard alive, including the one Snow had sent to get Regina. And they'd taken every prisoner.
"I will stop at nothing to get her back," Snow had promised. She'd already condemned Emma to a loveless life once, and she wasn't about to let it happen again. She wasn't going to subject Emma to the pain of losing a true love when she knew all too well how that felt.
Emma stared out the window of the carriage, trying to understand. The shocking fact that she had parents, that she was a princess from another world, seemed easy by comparison. Regina could be anywhere, she could be in pain, she could even be dead. All because Emma had spoken up and gotten them thrown in jail. All because she'd let the other girl out of her sight.
Regina was smart, much smarter than Emma, but the blonde knew that she'd lived a sheltered life. Did she even have a chance out there on her own?
Emma had no interest in the castle once they arrived. She had no interest in the fine things that her mother offered her: food, clothing, a bath. She just waited, silent and tense.
Snow didn't waste much time. But for the first time in years she put on her armor. She strapped her quiver to her back and a sword at her hip. She hoped that Emma would be enough to end this senseless war, but she finally had something to fight for again. She wanted, needed, to see her daughter happy, to find the only person who could make her so.
Emma looked surprised and a little pleased when her mother reappeared. They set out for the Red Kingdom that night, no time to waste.