II.
Emma awoke with a groan as the sunlight hit her right in the face. Her head hurt and she was lying on a mattress on a hard surface. And somebody was whistling 'Whistle While You Work', which was really annoying! Sitting up, she found herself in one of three cells of a small town sheriff office, where the holding cells, bullpen, and office were all part of the same room. In the far cell from hers, she found the source of the whistling, a bald, bearded, grumpy-looking drunk. That... looked... exactly... like... Grumpy the dwarf...
Swell.
"What are you looking at, sister?" he growled at her.
"Hey, Leroy—manners!" another man, outside the cages and dressed as some kind of janitor said. "We have a guest! So you are eh, Henry's mother. How lovely for him to have you back in his life."
"Actually, I was just dropping him off," she answered, sitting up and working the kinks out.
"Tch," Leroy/Grumpy sneered. "Don't blame ya. They're all brats, who needs'em."
"Well, I'd give anything for one," the janitor said. "My wife and I, we tried for many years, but, uh... it was not meant to be."
"Well cry me a river," Leroy mocked.
Let's see, Emma silently mused to herself, if that's Grumpy, then... well, given the way he talked about having a kid, this must be Pinnochio's dad. Huh, sweet old guy, don't see why the bastard wound up leaving me on my own in the end, but can't do anything about that now.
At that moment, Sheriff Ruggedly Handsome came waltzing in. He stopped off at Grumpy's cell first, saying, " Leroy! I'm going to let you out; you need to behave. Put on a smile, and stay out of trouble." The cursed dwarf walked out of the cell, put on a big cheesy, fake, smile and then walked off.
Emma went up up to the barred door of her cell, getting the man's attention. "Seriously?" she asked.
"Regina's drink's a little stronger than we thought," he said with a shrug.
"I wasn't drunk," she insisted. "There was a wolf, standing in the middle of the road."
"A wolf. Right," the sheriff nodded his head, playing along.
"Graham?" a familiar voice called out, preceding the owner by moments. "Henry's run away again, we have to—oh." Regina came into the room and saw Emma in the cell. "Well," she couldn't help commenting, "this certainly brings back a few memories. I thought you'd decided to leave and come back later, Swan?"
"Laugh it up, Gin," she said. "What was that about the kid?"
"He wasn't in his room this morning," the brunette answered immediately, before her expression turned somewhat dark. "Do you know where he is?"
"Gin, I haven't seen him since we both tucked him into bed last night and," she drummed her fingers on the bars of her cell, "a pretty good alibi. Did you try his friends?"
"He... doesn't really have any. Kind of a loner," she answered somewhat reluctantly.
"Every kid has friends. Did you check his computer? If he was close to someone he'd be emailing them," she suggested.
"And you know this, how?"
"Finding people's what I do. Here's an idea; how 'bout you guys let me out, and I'll help you find him."
"Fine," Regina agreed immediately, "Where is he?"
Emma just shot her a 'Are you serious?' look while the Sheriff opened her cell, hiding his own version of the same look from the Madam Mayor. Stepping out of the cell, the blond replied, "I already told you I don't know. And before you say anything else, let me just say this; It. Doesn't. Work. Like. That. Now, computer?"
With a heavy sigh, the mayor of Storybrooke turned and lead them all back to her house and to Henry's room ultimately. Sitting down at the desktop, Emma quickly ran through the usual checks. "Smart kid. Cleared his inbox. I'm smart too, a little hard disk recovery utility I like to use should show us what we're looking for."
Crouched down beside her, the Sheriff, having been introduced to her as Graham Humbert, looked on in a small bit of awe as he commented, "I'm a bit more old-fashioned, in my techniques. Pounding the pavement, knocking on doors, that sort of thing."
"Yeah, well, you're on salary," she said back, working through the utility quickly, "I get paid for delivery. Pounding pavement is not a luxury that I get. Ah, there's a receipt for a website, whosyourmomma dot org—it's expensive. Does he have a credit card?"
"He's ten," Regina pointed out the obvious as disdainfully as possible.
"Well, he used one," she pointed at the screen. "Let's pull up a transaction record. Mary Margaret Blanchard, who's Mary Margaret Blanchard?"
Regina's face scrunched up with the most unique combination of disgust, anger, annoyance, and resignation that Emma had ever seen on the human face, before instantly being covered by her long-practiced mask of indifference. After a beat, she finally answered, "Henry's teacher."
Less than fifteen minutes later, they were at the Catholic school, the only school in the district that Emma could see, which actually explained a lot, and more specifically outside the door of the classroom of the 4th Grade teacher, Ms. Mary Margaret Blanchard. Fortunately, the class was just about to break for recess, so they didn't have to wait long for the teacher to finish her lesson and the bell to ring and the students to all go rushing outside to play.
"Miss Mills, what are you doing here?" Mary Margaret asks once the last student has left.
"Where's my son?" Regina asks without preamble.
"Henry? I assumed he was at home with you when he wasn't in class," she innocently answered.
"You think I'd be here if he was? Did you give him your credit card so he can find her?" she pointed at the blond in the red jacket that followed behind.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" the pixie-cut brunette asked Emma.
"Complicated," Emma summarized with a flat grin.
"The woman who carried him for nine months and went through hours of labor pains on his behalf," Regina remarked. Emma rolled her eyes at her.
"You're Henry's birth mother," Mary Margaret nodded with understanding. She was already reaching for her purse, a pinched look on her pale features.
"You don't know anything about this, do you?" Emma realized after reading the woman's expression.
"No, unfortunately not," she shook her head. After searching through her wallet, she finds the spot where the missing credit card had been, once upon a time. "Clever boy. I shouldn't have given him that book."
"Book?" Emma and Regina both ask at the same time.
"Just some old stories I gave him," Mary Margaret explained to the mayor. "As you well know, Henry is a special boy: so smart, so creative, and as you might be aware, lonely. He needed it."
"Where did you find it? To give to him, that is," Emma asked before Regina could lose her temper.
"I, huh, I'm not sure really," she answers, honestly confused. "I just came across it one day while cleaning out my closet. I must have always had it, but I can't remember where I got it from."
Emma spun on the spot and whispered quietly to Regina, "Why does that answer sound, oh, vaguely familiar?" The brunette turned toward her, hiding her face with her longer hair and replied, "You think that the book is part of the Curse? Henry's book?" The blonde shrugged, keeping the conversation quiet, "It would explain a few things. For one, why it's incomplete and, from what little I read of it, biased in the extreme. Curses have to have a way to be broken, it is what makes them so damn powerful in the first place. If somebody made this one breakable by very specific conditions..." They both nodded as Regina finished the statement, "... that makes it all the more powerful as it can then only be broken in one way. By the savior."
"Uh, is there, uh, anything else that I, um, can help you ladies with?" Mary Margaret interrupts.
Emma subtly gestures for Regina to give her a few moments alone with the teacher. She does catch the sign, but can only look on suspiciously for a few moments before ultimately deciding that she probably wouldn't want to bother with such a conversation in the first place. Turning abruptly, she practically snarls at Mary Margaret, just in such a way that an outside party wouldn't actually call it snarling, "No, apparently you can't, Ms. Blanchard. This is a waste of time." To Emma, she says for their audience's benefit, "Have a nice trip back to Boston." She then storms out, intentionally knocking some books off a nearby desk on her way past, not bothering to so much as glance back. The Sheriff was quick to follow.
Emma and Mary Margaret both stoop to pick up the books. Helping the teacher where she can, the blond apologizes to the pixie-cut brunette with, "Sorry to bother you."
"No, it's—it's okay," the teacher immediately waves off the apology, "I fear this is partially my fault."
"How is a book supposed to help?" she asked as they stood to their feet.
"What do you think stories are for?" Mary Margaret replies as she gathers her things and they walk out of the classroom. "These stories? The classics? There's a reason we all know them. They're a way for us to deal with our world. A world that doesn't always make sense. See, Henry hasn't had the easiest life."
"I don't know about that. Compared to a lot of people, he's living it up, but yeah, she's kind of a hard ass," Emma conceded.
"No, it's more than her," Mary Margaret said. "He's like any adopted child. He wrestles with that most basic question they all inevitably face: why would anyone give me away?" Suddenly realizing what she'd just said, the woman paled even further and tried to apologize. "I am so sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean in any way to judge you..."
"It's OK," Emma shrugged it off, though privately she cannot deny what she said has the ring of truth.
"Look, I gave the book to him because I wanted Henry to have the most important thing anyone can have; hope. Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."
Studying the teacher's face for a few moments, she quickly deduced, "You know where he is, don't you?"
"You might want to check his castle," was all that she would say.
–Twelve Years Ago–
"What do you mean you lost it!?" 16-year-old Emma Swan shouted over her shoulder at her brunette companion, 17-year-old (by a month and a week) Regina Mills.
"I mean," the primly-dressed aristocrat said even as she ran and jumped through the woods like a squire in training, "I lost it! It vanished right out of my hands! Magically faded away! Poof, as you are so fond of saying! Now stop yelling at me and run faster!"
They were currently running through the woods of the infinite forest, being chased by trolls, vultures, and elves. The vultures were only a problem out in the open or if they were slow to dodge around trees. And while the trolls were slow over distance, they made up for it in stamina. The elves were the real troublemakers, however, being much faster than the two human girls, and able to run for longer than even the trolls. Add to it, the normal dangers of the infinite forest, and one could understand why Emma was so upset that Regina had lost their only way out of the magical trap.
"How do you anger trolls and elves, anyway?" Regina queried in a breathless moment as they sprinted.
"Well," Emma said as they rounded one tree, then three more, going in a different direction each time, "trolls you piss off the same way you'd tick off just about anyone, just with less effort. They're so sensitive," she teased, saying it loud enough that there was a fresh roar of anger and rage from their pursuers. "Elves, on the other hand. They are a bit more... tolerant, except when it comes to trespassing."
Regina shot her blond compatriot a dirty look. "Swan, all you do is trespass."
"Yeah," she agreed.
"How do we get out of here?" the brunette inquired after they dodged yet another flock of vultures and avoided the 'guiding' arrows of elven archers. "This is the infinite forest. Even if we were a mile from the edge, we would be turned around to the center! Without magic..."
"I know!" Emma shouted at her. "I know! I know. Without magic, there is no way to escape these cursed woods. Even though I've done it twice."
"Then where do we go?" Regina exclaimed, her hope renewed.
Emma pulled her up short, narrowly keeping her from being shot full of arrows that landed at their feet, but would have been in their chests had they not stopped. They hopped over they arrows, continuing on the path they were on rather than allowing themselves to be directed elsewhere. "It's complicated."
"I'll follow you," the local girl assured her.
"Can't exactly... walk out of the infinite forest," the teen troublemaker tried to explain. "First time I got out, it was from accidentally walking right into them, and then bartering my way out through the Dwarf mines. That was the afternoon I showed up with a rock of unprocessed fairy dust, remember?"
"You were only gone for an hour and a half, at the most! How did you get lost in the infinite forest, find a Dwarf Mine, and barter your way out in that amount of time?!" Regina screeched.
"Luck, and knowing the right name to drop," Emma replied. "It's not like you haven't had your own solo adventures. Anyway, second time, I was practicing my teleporting, wound up here by mistake. Turns out, place is warded up the wazoo, took me an hour of meditating to focus enough to get back out."
"Have you gotten better? At teleporting, I mean?" Regina asked, seeing as her friend was the only one of the two of them with magic.
"Not enough that I can do it while being chased!" she pointed out.
"Then we need to lose them?"
"They're trolls and elves!"
"So, we find a mud pit?" was the timid suggestion.
"Are you forgetting why we trespassed and double crossed these guys?!"
"Oh, right. So, what do you suggest?"
"Uh, this way!" she pointed and started running, the older girl right behind her.
The arrows suddenly stopped and after they passed a unique boulder configuration, even some of the trolls slowed down or backed off. Regina, too focused on following her friend through the underbrush, never noticed. Emma, on the other hand, had been counting on it. It is when they come to a veritable wall of bushes and small trees, the air humming with the echo of thundering noise, that the blond pulls them both up short, their pursuers barely a hundred yards away and closing rapidly.
"Swan? What...?" the brunette stuttered.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, taking the other girl's hands in her own.
Blinking, Regina sighed and said, "You're about to do something insanely foolish and mortally dangerous, aren't you?"
"Do you trust me?" she asked again, ignoring the statement, and the approaching hoard of enemies.
The girl from a land of magic and adventure and true love, who'd never experienced any of that until meeting this stranger from another realm, took her hand from the death grip it was in and placed it against the dirty cheek, staring lovingly and with absolute faith into those blue-green eyes, filled with mischief, amusement, and absolute confidence.
"Yes," she answered with a lover's whisper. "Yes, I do trust you. Now and forevermore." Then she kissed the girl on the lips.
"Good," Emma said as she opened her eyes from the brief kiss, "because you're gonna wanna kill me after this. Whatever happens, don't let go!" As she said the last bit, she'd turned to the bushes, keeping a tight hold on her friend, and just as they came out the other side to see that the ground had suddenly fallen away into a ravine—with a river at the bottom—the girls reached for each other and held one another close in their arms.
Some of the more... eager trolls, hadn't stopped and came barreling through the bushes and trees that had grown out of the side and upper edges of the ravine, and thus had nothing to stop their fall into the raging white waters below. By the time a few of them had caught a clue, they all, elves, trolls and vultures, realized that their quarry had vanished without a trace. They could only assume, and report, that the girls had fallen in the river and drowned. The bounty for Swan's head was raised rather than rescinded. It wasn't the first time the girl had vanished by faking her 'death', only to show up somewhere else causing mischief and grief.
–Storybrooke, Present–
"Your mom is worried about you," Emma said as she sat down beside Henry at the top of the old wooden playground castle fort. Seeing where he was staring, the clock tower in the middle of town, she inquires, "Still hasn't moved, huh?"
"I was hoping that when I brought you back, things would change here. That the final battle would begin," he said earnestly.
"Define 'battle'," she remarked. "I'll do anything to protect your happiness, kid. I just met you, and I haven't seen Gin... Regina, your mom, for years, but already I know that I love you. But I'm not going to have a great big cat fight with her over this if that's what you had in mind."
"I-I'm not sure what it means. All I know is... You're here because it's your destiny. You're going to bring back the happy endings," he said.
"Ha!" she let out a barking laugh. "Been a few years since I heard that load of crap."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"A Happy Ending, as you put it, is just the point at which everybody stopped fighting in wars. Doesn't mean that they're actually happy. And can you cut it with the destiny crap, I'm trying to have a moment here, kid," she said, pulling away slightly.
"You don't have to be hostile. I know you like me, I can tell. You're just—pushing me away because I make you feel guilty. It's okay; I know why you gave me away. You wanted to give me my best chance," Henry said to her, smiling.
She looked at him with new eyes. Before, while she'd meant what she said, it was because he was her blood and that's what you're supposed to say. And he was kinda growing on her. But that he actually understood...
"How do you know that?" she finally asked him.
"It's the same reason Snow White gave you away," he answered.
She stopped herself from saying anything, looking back and forth between him and the stuck clock tower. After about half a minute of emotional silence, she said to him, "In your book, did you ever come across the story of the Ugly Duckling?"
"That's a fable, not a fairy tale," he pointed out.
"That," she looked at him, tears pooling in her eyes but not falling, "is my story. You've read about the beginning, but not the rest. Let me tell it to you?"
He nodded and sat back against one of the support posts, drawing his knees up, the same way that she had. He listened as she told him her tale, one of adventure, magic, mischief, horror, loss, love, and hope. And as he sat and listened, he learned that not everything is what it seems. The Evil Queen had already been redeemed, and the battle had been ongoing for years, long before the Savior before him was ever born, and it would continue for years to come. Their happy ending had yet to be written, but the truly awesome part was how they could write it themselves, rather than be manipulated into it by fairies, imps or wizards.
"Look," Emma said after she'd finished her story. "Your mom is trying her best. I know it's hard. And I know sometimes you think she doesn't love you. But at least she wants you. C'mon, let's go. I have to get you back to your mom."
"Can't we just..." he tried to protest.
"I've explained why already," she interrupted him. "C'mon Henry." She held out her hand, and he took it, and together they left the play ground, heading back toward his home.
A slow walk through town later, as Henry was dragging his heels at practically every opportunity, they were back at 108 Mifflin Lane, walking up the stone path to the front door. Regina was already there waiting, sans police escort this time.
"Thank you," she said as Henry hurried into the house.
"No problem," Emma shrugged, hands in her jacket pockets.
"He seems to have taken quite a shine to you," the brunette said, arms crossed.
"You know it seems kind of crazy. Yesterday was my birthday. And—when I blew out the candle on this cupcake I bought myself, I actually made a wish. That I didn't have to be alone on my birthday. And then Henry showed up. And he lead me back to you."
Regina had opened her mouth to say something, but it snapped shut after that last sentence.
"Do you remember the last thing I said to you before, well before?" she asked her.
"Of course," she said, a half hearted shrug with her arms still crossed and her expression closed.
"Do you really?" she asked, eyes desperate and still filled with unshed tears. "Because I still can't! It wasn't until I was talking to that little boy in there that I even could remember that last day! About why you still became the Evil Queen, about why I didn't come running to Storybrooke the day after I got that damned postcard, and about why the damned Curse was still cast in the first place! We took potions to block our memories, Regina! The only thing that kept us from forgetting each other entirely was because..."
"I've got your back and you have mine," she whispered, tears suddenly pooling in her own eyes.
"I'm their," Emma picked up the phrase, "we're square."
"Till the end, we're friends forevermore," Regina took a step closer.
"I would die for you," they finished together.
They just stood there, staring at one another for the longest time, saying nothing.
"How did we end up like this?" the dark-haired woman whispered.
"I don't know," the blond shook her head. "But we're connected by more than just our past or that kid up there. You raised my son, Regina."
"Oh, and you're blaming me for that, just like him?" she snapped, face going cold.
"No," Emma smiled, "Thanking you."
"What?" Regina was confused.
"I was in prison, Gin," she continued, stepping closer so they were practically nose to nose, Emma's hands in her jacket pockets and Regina's still crossed before her. "And I was in no shape to be a mother. Arguably, I could have pulled it off, with some time and good people to trust, and a whole lot of patience on my part. So understand this, when I say that I was in no shape to be a mother, it had nothing to do with being a convict. Mentally, emotionally, in all the ways that it does matter for someone to be a parent... I. Was. Not. Hell, I'm still not!"
She turned and paced away from the woman mayor before turning back suddenly and returning to her earlier spot. "I love that little boy more and more with each passing moment of knowing him. But I am not a parent. You are."
"What do you mean?" Regina was very subtly shaking her head, but with every word out of Emma's mouth, the shaking became more and more pronounced.
"You raised my son, Gin!" she said again. "You are his mother! You are a parent, and you have been for every day of his life!"
"That's right!" she interrupted. "I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum. You may have given birth to him, but he is my son!"
"You're right," Emma said, startling the once Evil Queen out of her growing tantrum. "What I'm... trying... to tell you—and apparently not doing a bang up job of it—I want to thank you. You got my back. You probably didn't even know it at the time, but you did. So, you've got my back, and I, Madam Mayor, Your Majesty the Evil Queen, my Bestest Friend Forevermore, have got yours. I'm never taking Henry away from you. Because he's not mine, or yours. He's... ours."
"What... what gives you the-the right to-to-to..." Regina tried to get on her high horse to shove the interloper under it, but something was preventing it. The tears weren't falling, but she couldn't be her old usual, evil self anymore. It hurt too much and the void in her heart was too deep to cross on her own.
"Henry is ours," Emma insisted. "And I wasn't lying before. If I had remembered, if I could have remembered, I would have made for Storybrooke the day I'd gotten out of prison, knocking on your door before the sun went down. And don't pretend for even a second that you wouldn't have let me in."
"What are you doing to me?" the Evil Queen whispered, her hands clenching at her sides where her arms were still crossed.
"Reminding you," Swan, the magic thief of the Enchanted Forest, whispered just as quietly, "Of who you really are, not what you are. Reminding you of what it is like not to have a hole in your heart. Reminding you that while you do love our little boy, you can't show it to him as long as this damned curse is putting that void in you. Reminding you of... who we were, who we are, together."
"Stop it, please," the dark-eyed beauty begged, a lone solitary tear falling.
"I can do that," the blue-eyed beauty replied, moving closer. "But only if you really, really, really mean it. Just... say the word, and I'm gone. I may show up on the weekends every now and again, but I won't stay. Not... not unless I have a reason to."
"Then go," Regina begged again, unable to speak any louder. "Just... go..."
The words, '...like before...' were left unsaid, but heard all the louder for it.
"If that is what you really want," Emma said at normal volume, "I will. But it isn't my decision really. It's yours. Do you want this curse of yours broken? Do you want that hole in your heart finally fixed?"
"It... doesn't work like that..." she was fully shaking her head now, though what she was denying not even she could say for certain anymore.
"Yeah, it kinda does," Emma started to nod her head to counter Regina's shaking.
"Just go, Miss Swan," Regina said with greater strength, pulling herself back together, or trying to at least. "We don't need you here. You asked for a closed adoption and that means you have no legal right to Henry, and you're going to be held to that. What's more is that you never came back when you once promised me that you would always be there for me. Well, news flash, you weren't! So I suggest you get in your car, and you leave this town. Because if you don't, I will destroy you if it is the last thing I do. Goodbye, Miss Swan."
Just as the regal brunette spun on her heel to leave, Emma stopped her—yet again—with a single word.
"No."
"Excuse me?" she turned and snapped at the blond woman.
"No, you don't get to threaten me. Not me, Gin," she insisted. "But you want me to leave, fine. I give the decision on whether I stay or not in your hands. Just answer me this one question; do you love him? Henry, do you love him?"
"Of course I love him," she said in a rather flat tone, the words never quite reaching her eyes.
Emma just stares at her, looking into her eyes, into her soul, before finally just nodding her head and turning to leave. Just before the front door to the mayor's mansion is closed, however, she casts a parting shot over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Madam Mayor!"
Regina looked back at the retreating blond, eyes wide and nostrils flaring, anger in every cell of her stance. If she still had magic to channel, rather than the pitiful pool left in her body, she would be shooting off fireballs and everything not nailed down would be flying around her in a twist tornado. Fortunate then, that her magical reserves did not allow for that. She allowed the door to close, and unless one was standing right next to her they might have missed it, but just as the door clicked shut and gone an instant later, there was a brief smirk of satisfaction and perhaps even anticipation on the former Evil Queen's face.
–Twelve Years Ago–
Two drowned rats pulled themselves out of the river. One yellow, one brown. Once they were far enough up the shore, both were surrounded by white smoke with golden yellow sparks flashing throughout it, and once that smoke had cleared, they left a thoroughly soaked blond girl in tight jeans and sneakers and animal skins, and an equally soaked brunette in 'noble' traveling clothes, both lying there in the grass, breathing and happy to be alive.
"You—you could have warned me!" the brunette coughed, lying on her side.
"And let the elves and goblins know that they just needed to follow us down river? Or that I was going to transform us into something the vultures could pick up out of the drink? Oh yeah, that would have worked out real well," the blond wheezed, crawling on her hands and knees.
"What about that, that magic spell that lets you talk without speaking?" Regina asked, sitting up.
"Telepathy spell," Emma supplied, rolling onto her back once she was on the grass and out of the mud. "And you can't act worth a copper, Gin. Once you get a better poker face, I'll be sure to let you in on all my plans, but until then..."
"I still don't understand your fascination with a simple card game. Or how you always know what I have in my hand if you're not using magic! And why did you have to turn us into rats of all things!" she pouted.
"A few things about that," Emma said tiredly. "One, I don't have to use magic, it is almost literally written on your face whether you think you've got a good hand or not. And for when you're not sure, I just play to your doubts and make you think I've got a better hand. Two, magic isn't that subtle. And for when it is, there's always a sign that it is in play. Glowing eyes, something out of place, a tickle at the back of your neck, or just a cold shiver in a warm room. Stuff like that. Three, why rats? Well, despite all the bad hype they get, they're actually pretty good swimmers, they're small and would have been obscured by the waves and the water, so the vultures wouldn't pluck us out of the drink, and, well, I'm still working on my fish, and it was the first thing that came to mind, otherwise I probably would have made us river otters or something. Number four, there were vultures, which is why I didn't turn into a swan and carry you out of there and just transformed you instead. And five, take a good look around, Princess. I did a lot more than use transformation magic on us."
"I'm not a princess, merely a noble's daughter," Regina corrected her, and then stopped as a very distinctive sound echoed down from the sky. Looking up, she could see only clouds and the treetops, but the noise continued to echo. Getting to her feet, she took a better look around and through the trees, maybe as much as half a mile away, she could see a paved road with the non-magical contraptions called automobiles traveling along it.
"We're in your world," she gasped. "But... how?"
"'s why I'm so exhausted," Emma said from the grass, her eyes half-closed. "First time I did it without the book. Same time limit though. Can't get around that. I'd need a portal for longer, but that wouldn't work anyway. But hey, figured I'd have my best friend here for my birthday."
"Wait, what?" Regina started. "It's your birthday? Swan! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Cause I wanted to get my present first," Emma giggled from the grass.
"Oh you!" the brunette then reached down and helped her blond friend to her feet.
The blond laughed and allowed herself to be pulled up. "I just needed to figure out how to channel more magic than usual, or how to hold what I've got in so it builds up. 's why we snuck into the goblin tunnels to get at their vaults."
"Because of all the magical treasures they have down there," Regina nodded, understanding. "But why did we have to then sneak into the Elves Sanctuary? And on the day that the vultures would be there themselves for that matter?"
"Well, that was just plain bad luck on our part," Emma shrugged as the two wet girls trudged through the forest toward the highway in the distance. "As for going to the Elf Sanctuary, well, that was for the latter more than the former, as Merlin would say."
"What?"
"Elves can draw in the magic of trees, the elements, and even spirits and then use it later. It is why there are so many 'kinds' of elves. They have clans that specialize in the types of magic they absorb and then later use. I was there to take a look at their scrolls and to... heh, sneak a peak at a few classes where young elves were being trained in what to do. Didn't take me long to figure out the trick to it."
"How did you even know there are elves in the infinite forest anyway?" she was asked right as they breached the tree line next to the road.
Looking down the highway in either direction, Emma spotted a few signs, identifying the road and the nearest exit and even a mile marker. Looking up, she noted the position of the sun, and also the trees around her, including the soil they were planted in. "There are elves in every forest," she answered. "And desert, and mountain and river and sea and plain. They are just really good at hiding, and they know better than to have anything to do with the kingdoms of man. All right, I know where we are now. More or less."
"How is it that you know so much? I thought I was supposed to be your guide!" Regina protested as Emma made her way back into the trees.
"Coming?" the blond teen cast over her shoulder. "You still know plenty more than I do. I just happen to know the magic stuff, because of, well, you know who."
"I'm still not comfortable with all that," she shivered as she stepped into the woods behind her friend.
"I don't blame you," Emma agreed, taking her hand. "Hold on tight."
"Wait, Emma! You said there was no magic in this land!" Regina exclaimed, frightened.
"Yep, which is why I'm glad I've been saving up since we got back. Didn't have to change us back from rats, merely had to draw the magic back in. This one really is going to tire me out, but at least you'll still be here for my birthday!" She giggled and held the brunette close, before they both were surrounded by a fast-moving cloud of white smoke, highlighted by yellow-gold sparks.
When it faded, they were both in Emma's room, her Book still open on the bed, the door locked and nobody else in the house, seeing as it was the middle of the day. Looking over at the clock, Emma grinned and cackled happily.
"Yes! Not even quarter after noon! I've got you for all of tonight and tomorrow morning! Yay!" she cheered, and hugged the brunette close to her.
Smiling, Regina sighed and enjoyed being held, while holding her right back. "Oh dear!" she said in a mocking tone. "Whatever shall we do with ourselves? All night and until noon tomorrow, eh?"
"Indeed," Emma pantomimed one of her favorite TV characters, leaning in close until their foreheads were touching and noses rubbing against one another.
For what felt like the longest time, but probably wasn't even a whole minute, the two soaked girls just stood there in each others arms, staring into one another's eyes and thinking about... things. Finally, the spell was broken when Regina breathed a deeper sigh than usual and reached up her hands from Emma's back to her shoulders and said, "So, how is this family treating you? Is there an actual party to attend, or is this just going to be the two of us?"
Emma closed her eyes and breathed deep, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "It's just a foster home, not a family. There are like five other kids here. So long as I go to school and don't get in trouble, they leave us be."
"I still find this whole concept of a... of a school that everyone sends their children to... so alien," Regina said as they stepped away from one another. "By the way, do you have enough magic to spare to dry us out?"
"Fraid not," the blond shrugged, trying to hide her grin. "If it is something that can be done through time and effort normally, my magic won't let me do it. If it were a matter of life and death, like one of us catching a disease that would kill us or start a plague, then yeah, I could probably force that. Way my magic works, it has to be big, it has to be needed, and it has to be used for Good ultimately. Sucks, I know, but it is the way it works."
"I know, I know, you've told me before, I just keep hoping that you'll figure out a way around that," Regina grumbled, pulling off her wet boots.
"I've got some clothes you can wear, and we can leave the rest to dry out or throw what we can into the dryer," Emma offered, rooting around the dresser. That was one of the good things about this particular home, the place was big enough that each of the kids could have their own room, unless they went into the double-digits that is. Still, the fact that the place was run more like a halfway house rather than a foster home made Emma almost wish at times, if not for the lesson she learned long ago about wishes and she knew by now not to waste them on frivolous trivialities.
"So," Regina asked, disrobing while Emma searched for clothing, "will you get in trouble for not being in this schooling place?"
"Got that covered," Emma replied. "Story for another time, though... oh."
The just-about-to-turn-sixteen-year-old had turned around and found her olive-skinned friend in pretty much nothing at all, but for the soaked material of her clothes held in her arms in front of her to cover her modesty as much as it could allow for. Which, if Emma was being honest with herself, wasn't much. Swallowing, her mouth and throat feeling suddenly dry and closed, the blond stepped forward with some black cotton leggings, an old over-sized white t-shirt, and a pair of brief panties in her own arms. Wondering why it was suddenly hot in here, she began to contemplate exchanging their armfuls when the older teen took the initiative, taking the wad of clothes with one hand, and then dropping her own into her waiting arms, allowing the younger girl an unencumbered view of her... of her... of everything.
"Thank you Emma," Regina said slowly, rolling her friend's name off the tongue, sounding far more seductive and experienced than any seventeen-year-old had a right to. "Why don't you go hang those out to dry, while I get changed, hm?"
"Right, yeah, dry, uh huh," Emma said, not moving, her eyes wide and not blinking, and her mouth hanging open a bit after she finished speaking.
"Emma?"
"Uh huh?"
Regina forcefully turned the blond around and snapped, "Stop staring at me and get changed!"
"Right, changed," Emma nodded and went to get clothes for herself. By the time she turned back around, Regina had herself covered once more.
Hoping to give her friend—though all of a sudden that word does not seem nearly accurate enough—as much of a show as she'd gotten, while simultaneously hoping it would be as appreciated, Emma began stripping off her own wet material, making sure to arch her back and do all the other little things that would emphasize her features. She even got all the way naked before putting anything back on. Unfortunately, Regina had apparently decided to skip out on the show, and while Emma had been distracted being 'coy' and 'seductive', she'd stepped out of the room. Huffing in annoyance, the blond quickly got dressed after she'd noticed and hurried after the brunette to see what she'd gotten into now.
–Storybrooke, Present–
Walking up to the Bed&Breakfast, the only lodging in town as a matter of fact, Emma noted that it too was owned and operated by Granny and Red. Case in point when she entered the foyer and caught them in the middle of a rather loud argument.
"You're out all night, and now you're going out again!" Granny accused the tall brunette with red streaks in her hair. When Emma had seen her earlier at the diner, she'd noticed her name tag identified her as Ruby.
"I should've moved to Boston!" Ruby shouted back at her grandmother, going straight for the coat rack.
"I'm sorry that my heart attack interfered with your plans to sleep your way down the Eastern Seaboard!" the silver-haired woman yelled back.
"Boston isn't that great to begin with anyway," Emma added her two cents to the conversation, such as it was. "Better off in the Hamptons or further south. Or could go north to Canada. Toronto's been getting pretty popular of late. Or so I hear."
"Who asked you?" Ruby growled.
"Hi, I'd like a room," Emma said with a broad grin rather than answer the rhetorical question.
"Really?" Granny blurted out, surprise in both hers and Ruby's expressions. Emma just nodded, still grinning. "Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally there's an upgrade fee for the square, but as the rent is due, I'll wave it."
Emma shrugged and replied, "Square is fine. Thanks."
"Now, what is the name?" Granny asked, writing into the dust-covered ledger.
"Swan," the blond answered easily. "Emma Swan."
"Emma," a low voice, smooth as silk spoke suddenly from right behind her. She'd deny it if anyone asked, but she had jumped just a little, startled. "What a lovely name."
She turned to glare at the man who'd startled her and stopped herself when she saw who exactly he was. He stood at around her height, had neck-length straight brown hair, his face weathered and lined but overall he still appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had a gold tooth, wore an Armani suit that was clearly tailored, held a gold-capped ornate cane, and his shoes were just as expensive and exquisite in taste as the rest of his attire. His eyes though... his eyes held large brown irises, rimmed with a bit of gold/yellow/green to them. And they were cold. Cold, calculating, amused, and dark.
Rumpelstiltskin.
"Thanks," she said, turning back to Granny so he wouldn't see the fear in her eyes.
Granny removed a roll of cash from the register on the counter and hurriedly handed it over to the man.
"It's all here," she said fearfully.
"Yes, yes, of course it is, dear," he said, a bit of an accent to his voice, accepting the pay off. "Thank you." Turning to the blond, he gave her a smile that never came near to his eyes. "Enjoy your stay. Emma." Then he turned and hobbled out of the building.
"Who's that?" she asked the family before her, despite already knowing the answer.
"Mr. Gold," Ruby answered, watching through the curtains to make sure their visitor was indeed leaving. "He owns the place."
"The bed and breakfast?" Emma questioned, surprised as everything she'd seen said that Ruby and her grandmother owned it.
"No," Granny shook her head with a heavy sigh. "The town." Then, hoping to turn the conversation away from such depressing thoughts, she changed the subject. "So! How long will you be with us?"
"A week," she answered. "I'll go ahead and pay in advance, if that's OK. If I need to stay longer, I'll be sure to let you know."
"Great!" Granny nodded and marked it down in the ledger. Transaction completed, she ferreted out the key, which was one of those old fashioned iron key that all the cartoons get modeled after, complete with ornate iron key chain. "Welcome to Storybrooke."
"Thanks," Emma smiled and accepted the key. Instantly, she felt a shift in the currents and air throughout the town. Smirking to herself as she made her way up the stairs, once she was in her room she glanced out the window to see the square view she'd not-paid-extra for. The clock tower at the center of town now showed 8:16 and was clicking over to 8:17 as she stood there watching it.
Nodding, satisfied with what she'd begun by choosing to stay instead of 'just visiting', she turned to the bed and started putting her overnight stuff away and began getting ready for bed.
–Twelve Years Ago–
Emma found Regina on the back porch, staring out at her 'back yard', which given that the house was on one of those steep hills overlooking the valley in which the city sits, it offered a pretty awesome view. She didn't say anything at first, just walked up and stood next to the statuesque brunette as they looked out over her world. Or at least the small portion of it they could see from her back yard.
"Hey," she said, coming up behind the older girl. "Everything OK?"
"I'm in love with you, Emma."
The blond froze. Mostly figuratively, but she definitely stopped moving, even stopped breathing, a cold sensation sweeping throughout her body. It was only offset by the sudden thumping warmth exploding like a supernova in her chest, stealing her breath away.
"Regina," she finally managed to whisper, finding her voice, "I love—"
"And that will be quite enough of that," a sudden British accent intruded on their moment.
They both spun around, Emma pulling the knife she kept on her at all times, holding her other hand up as though ready to throw something. For the briefest of moments she forgot what world she was in, but knew that if she needed to, she could still fire a lightning bolt or two. That worked better for her than fire. Was more controllable too, just had to be careful of metal.
Coming out from just around the corner of the house was a tall older gentleman with a full beard and trimmed silver hair, dressed the same way that he always had been when Emma saw him in this world. Scowling at her teacher/mentor, she placed herself between Regina and the old man.
"Merlin," the blond sneered. "I thought after the last time I said I was through with you and your hypocrisy, you agreed to stay away from me until it was time for me to 'fulfill my destiny'. Now get out of here! Today's my birthday and you're not invited."
"You know," the old man chuckled, "I liked it better when you were all respectful and kept calling me the Book Keeper."
"That's when I thought you were just a creepy book shop owner!" Emma growled at him, still holding her hand at the ready to throw magic.
"This is it, isn't it?" Regina suddenly asked, sounding mournful.
"I'm afraid so," Merlin answered.
"What?" Emma said, looking back and forth between the two. "What?!"
"It is your sixteenth birthday, Emma," Merlin pointed out. "Eight years since I gave you... Your Book."
"Yeah, so?"
"Eight years, Emma," Regina whispered, taking her friend's hand. "When we made that deal with Merlin after breaking into his house? He told us that we would have eight years... before things changed forever."
"What deal?!" she screamed at them.
"I read your fortune, remember?" Merlin chuckled, pacing around the backyard. "Told you your futures, both of you. The Eye of Agamato? You remember now?"
Emma's jaw clenched, and her hold on Regina's hand tightened. "I'm not letting you take my Book."
"It's already gone," Merlin observed. "And it won't come back as it has before. Not until you're ready for it, of course."
"I brought her back with me," Emma said, tears pooling in her eyes. "Before the time was up! I can keep bringing her back! She doesn't have to... I won't let her become... that! She's here now, and I'll keep her here for as long as I can!"
"She's already here," Merlin told them with a long-suffering sigh. "She got here same way I did. Only difference is that she chose to stay instead of going out into the world."
"Emma," Regina tugged on her friend's hands. "Emma, listen. Listen to me, Emma!"
Both girls were crying now, clinging to one another.
"Emma, what have we been doing? All this time, for the past seven years, what have we been doing?" she insisted. "We've been preparing. Making preparations, making plans, and I am ready now. We're ready. For what is to come. For what I... for what I'll have to do. What has it all been for if you were just planning on cheating fate to keep bringing me back to your world, until it was too late? Merlin... he warned us, warned you, about changing the story too much. And we always said, that..." she choked back a sob, "... that we would never change the past. Not of this world. We know about the Curse. The Curse that I'll cast and that you are destined to break. It is why you are in this world in the first place. If I don't cast it, you don't come here. If you don't come here..."
"I never go back and meet you," Emma whispered, tears finally falling as she kept her eyes closed.
Merlin watched the two teen girls for a moment. He breath a loud sigh and turned to face the valley laid out before him. Knowing he had their attention, he began to speak. "I did not take your Book, Emma. And it has always been Your Book! It was never mine, not even before I gave it to you eight years ago. I couldn't tell you this before now, but that book was not an enchanted item, as I lead you both to believe."
"... What?" Emma's eyes snapped open and glared at the old man's back.
"It is the physical embodiment of a Blessing," he said, hands behind his back.
The blond blinked and took a step back in shock. Regina, not as well versed in magic as her friend had become, asked, "What does that mean?"
"Uh, um, I... wow."
"It would seem our dear duckling is in a bit of shock," Merlin chuckled, turning around. "Simple explanation, my dear timid duckling, is that when it comes to crossing Realms, there are only a handful of ways. Portals are the most common, despite their rarity. Enchanted items, such as mirrors, are the second most common method. As far as magic, as in spells and the like, there are only two methods in which one might cross into another Realm, though there may be a third method, in theory. But in actuality, those two proven methods are either a curse, or a blessing."
"I've... never heard of a... blessing spell or anything before," Regina commented.
"Considering your mother and her practices, that is not surprising," he said. "The reason Emma looks so shocked is because of the amount of power required for it, the only beings that can grant Blessings are, well, the common man would classify them as deities."
"Gods?" Regina reiterated.
"Indeed," Merlin confirmed.
"And... Emma's Book, it is...?"
"Indeed."
"Holy shit," Emma finally spoke.
"Indeed."
Both girls shot the old man dirty looks.
"Sorry," he shrugged.
"Who? How? I'd ask what, but that's fairly obvious," she asked.
"I'm uncertain as to who," he admitted. "But it was clear nevertheless when I looked into the Eye of Agamato. The 'enchanted book' I told you about was not a book. It was the embodiment of the Blessing you'd been gifted with. The ability to cross realms on your own, it would seem."
"So long as I have the magic to pull it off," Emma sighed, sitting heavily down on the porch.
"Emma... has been... blessed by a... god?" Regina tried to understand.
"As I said, I'm uncertain as to who," Merlin replied. "But the how, well, that would be fairly obvious, if you ask me. She's the Savior. At some point, whether in the past or still in the future, she will do something that warrants her this Blessing. Which has enabled her to change things from what they were. Just enough to allow for the possibility of happiness."
"Why are you here, Merlin?" Emma snapped at him. "Even if you're right, and you usually are about these sort of things, I'm not sending Regina back early. She's here for a full twenty-four hours, until the magic runs out. Same rules as with me, remember?"
"I got a postcard in the mail today," Merlin held up the mentioned item, the familiar picture of a clock tower on the side facing them.
"... How am I supposed to remember to send all these letters?" Regina asked somewhat rhetorically.
"Yeah, so?" Emma snapped at Merlin, ignoring the brunette for the moment.
"I'll let you read it," he said as answer, handing it over.
Taking it, she flipped the picture over and read the words written in a delicate scrawl on the limited space for message writing. At first she couldn't be sure she was reading it correctly and had to re-read the lines several times. When it finally sunk in, Emma started to cry anew.
"Emma?" Regina called, concerned. "What is it?"
She grabbed the postcard and read the lines for herself. Reading her own handwriting there, though slightly evolved and arguably more mature, it was as clear to her as anything. Except, perhaps, the reason why these words would make the person she was in love with burst into tears. "I don't understand. What do you think this means, Emma?"
"It means that I love you and you love me, and will still love me even... after," the weeping blond cried. "It means that... this is the last time we're going to see each other until I can go to this Storybrooke place."
"And... this is why I am here," Merlin told them, highly uncomfortable.
"What are you talking about?" Regina snapped at him, keeping most of her attention on the young woman in her arms.
"I'm talking about the Stable Boy," he answered.
"I don't care about him, all I care about is Emma," she retorted.
"That... is the problem," he stated.
"Oh... hell," Emma said, closing her eyes and squeezing a few more tears out.
"I've already made up my mind on what to do," Regina insisted, her forehead flush with the blond in her arms. "I'll marry the King, raise Princess Snow, learn magic from the Imp, become the Evil Queen, and cast the Curse. All to get back to Emma."
"And there it is, the problem," Merlin reiterated. "Rumpelstiltskin will see past deceptions and false promises. Furthermore, the Dark Curse has to be cast with a clear purpose, and it is after all, a curse. Wanting to see someone that you claim to love will cause the curse to fail, and thus history will be changed. It all comes back to the Stable Boy."
"But I love Emma," Regina whispered, staring into her friend's blue eyes.
Emma stared right back and whispered, "And I love you, Regina. I always will."
Merlin was silent. Allowing the girls their time to... grieve for lack of a better term.
"This is so not fair!" Emma cried out. "You are my best friend! You've been through... everything with me on this crazy ride! I fell in love with you from the start, didn't realize it until you got kidnapped by the elves, and now right as I get up the courage to do something about it, to show you, to tell you... we have to say goodbye. It isn't fair!"
Regina held the blond's face with both hands, whispering, "I know it isn't. And I don't care what the old man says, I'll never love anyone the way I love you. Never ever. I will wait for you. You come and find me, and we'll break the curse, and then we can all be together. You and me, your parents, everyone. A family."
Emma sighed. "You don't understand, Gin. He's right. If you try and cast the curse to come find me and not for... for vengeance or desperation or just anger... then it's not going to work. If we don't want to change history, then... there's only one way now."
"What? What is it?" she asked.
"A... a memory blocking potion," she answered, openly weeping. "Keyed to specific knowledge. Like... knowing what's to come."
"But... all those letters, the... what was it? Postcards! I'm supposed to send postcards to you and Merlin when I'm trapped by the curse!" Regina protested.
"Or," Merlin interceded, "knowledge of the true depth of your feelings for one another. That you are merely... best friends, rather than each others True Love. Emma helped me prepare the potions our last... lesson together. I've kept them with me ever since. Not easy to do while narrowly avoiding being cursed with amnesia, by the way."
"You're Merlin, it should've been easy for you," the blond snapped at him.
"So snappish today," he muttered, turning away. "Anyway, I suppose you could say that I came and interrupted you like this to give you a few gifts. The potions, and the knowledge that this will be your last day together before the Curse is cast. You don't have to take them now, but... before Regina disappears would be good." With that said, he pulled out two small vials of glowing liquid and left them on the bottom step of the back porch. "Happy birthday, Emma." Then he walked away.
"He is an absolute bastard," the birthday girl sobbed once he was gone.
"He truly is," Regina agreed, hugging her tight.
–Storybrooke Bed & Breakfast, Present–
Emma awoke from the dream. It was still dark out, but the dream—memories really—had driven her awake. That was something else she'd forgotten. Her old teacher, going by the name the name David Stutler, actually had been brought over with everyone else by the Dark Curse. Unlike everyone else though, he could remember who he was, and he could leave the town, which apparently he'd done the very first day of the curse. She'd never managed to get the whole story out of him, but she could tell that something must have happened which turned him... bitter, for lack of a better term.
She hadn't seen him since, well since that day, her sixteenth birthday. The last time she'd seen Regina before Henry brought her here. The last time she'd truly been herself. Since that day, she'd always felt like she was going around in a fog, just blowing wherever the wind would take her. But now... now the fog was lifting.
Over the years, she'd sometimes reminisce about her childhood, usually whenever she was meditating or expanding her magical reserves, a habit she'd kept up the same way most people exercise or do yoga. Before now, she had only briefly thought of the Enchanted Forest and her times with Gin and Alice and Merlin and a teenage runaway Snow White, as one might reminisce about visiting Disney World before entering High School. Looking back on it, even how she was just two days prior, she can scarcely believe how... unmotivated she'd been. And then there had been her... fling with Henry's father. What the hell had she been thinking?
Come to think of it, what the hell had been in those potions?
Merlin said she'd helped him mix them, but she couldn't recall doing anything of the sort! Or... well, no, there was one set of potions. The only ones he'd ever had her brew in this world, rather than in the Forest. The ingredients had come from over there, however. If only she could just remember what they were, maybe she could piece together what potion he'd actually brewed from those ingredients, and figure out why this was giving her so much grief all of a sudden!
Or at the least figure out what it was that she'd done to piss Gin off so much. Speaking of, she wondered how the Queen Mayor was handling this? Too bad she couldn't afford to waste the magic on a scrying spell to peek in on her and see how she was doing.
–Mayor's House, Same Time–
Regina Mills lay awake, staring at her ceiling. Since Swan had returned, though it was only the second night, she had not even been tempted to call Graham to her bet to... scratch her itch. The dream she'd just awoken from—memories of her last day with Emma, of the younger girl's sixteenth birthday—was just proof as to why that was exactly.
Since the King, Swan's grandfather rather, she'd had a multitude of lovers. Five, actually. Graham was simply... the easiest to tolerate. Although there were those... but no. That was getting off the point.
Did she even have a point? Oh yes, Swan. Since she'd come back, her 'itch' was only for one person now, the one person she could no longer stand! The one person that was here to break her Curse and take away her Happy Ending! No matter what she said, Regina was absolutely convinced that was her true reasoning for coming back and getting between her and Henry!
But that dream...
She didn't understand how this could be happening. If that potion was the one she was thinking it was, there was no way to get the selected memories back. It wasn't a curse to be broken by True Love's Kiss, it was a targeted effect of the potion's magic. So how could she be remembering this of she'd drunk the potion and her memories of that day erased?
It didn't make any sense. But then, she was only obsessing over that to avoid thinking about what she was actually thinking about.
Swan.
Her dream... her memories told her that Emma Swan, a girl she'd met stumbling out of the woods when she'd gone riding one day, was her first love. And more than that, her True Love. When all these years she'd thought, believed, that it had been Daniel. The... the stable boy as Merlin had called him. And obviously, at some point, Swan herself had 'moved on', otherwise they wouldn't have Henry here to fight over. And then there were the postcards... and she was distracting herself again.
She'd been in love with Emma Swan when she was a girl, when they'd been going on day-long adventures with each other, teleporting all over creation thanks to that amulet Merlin had given her, allowing her to go to wherever Swan appeared and then back home before her mother could find out. She'd been in love with a strange girl from another world. She'd been in love with her step-child's daughter, not that either of them knew it at the time. Or cared, even after finding out. They'd been in love with one another.
And now...
Regina turned over in her bed and drew the covers tighter around her curled up body, unconsciously putting herself in the fetal position. The revelation echoed throughout her mind as she fell asleep once more, influencing her dreams for the rest of the night.
Because she was still in love with Swan now, and she was pretty sure Swan was still in love with her.
Continued...?