A/N: Hi guys! I started a new job (because I'm being a productive adult who is a meaningful part of society and all that) and it has a killer commute, so it's been a bit nuts lately in my world, but that's not super relevant to all of you. Just felt like sharing. In other news, I won't be posting another chapter for a couple of weeks because I'm going to be busy writing my stuff for Swan Queen Week. Updates will resume afterwards. :)

The Handmaiden's Philosophy
Chapter Eleven

Regina's POV

Emma was a good student. And Regina would know, as she had had the dubious pleasure of tutoring a grand total of four people in the art of magic during her lifetime, not including her handmaiden. Her first student, Vincent, was a teenaged squire she'd caught practicing levitation in the palace gardens not six months after the Treaty was signed. She'd taught him how to read, how to utilize the basic mathematics required for complex spells and potions, and how to properly access his magic. While not especially powerful or even skilled for that matter, as the first –and only fully human—member of her palace mages, Vincent was the de facto leader of the group whenever Regina herself was not present. He was a genial man, and a calming presence to those who feared magic: a good public face for both soldier and citizen alike, many of which rightly feared magic and those who wielded it. Her second two pupils were the half-elf bastard daughters of one of her noblemen and his late mistress sent into the Queen's care at the ages of twelve and nine respectively, six years after her discovery of Vincent, when they began manifesting powers that their father did not know how to control. Lyra and Myka were the most powerful of Regina's magic users –and the only ones she hadn't had to teach basic reading, writing, and arithmetic to—but were fairly reclusive and generally unpleasant towards anyone aside from themselves and their coworkers. Dur, another half-elf that she'd picked up when passing through a small village, was already fully grown when Regina had taken it upon herself to hone his powers. He wasn't particularly good at magic in general, but he was an excellent healer and herbalist. There was value in that, and so Regina kept him on her staff with the others.

Her mages were valuable in a great many capacities. In wartime, obviously, they would be highly prized assets. But they were useful in peacetime as well. A great many mundane tasks could be solved with magic, and a great many unusual tasks could as well. This was part of the reason why the Dark One had made such lucrative business with his deals. Those without magic always wanted a magical solution to their problems. Regina's powers were no secret from her subjects, and she found that she was often asked to grant magical boons to those in need. She was far from a patient woman, however, and had little time (or desire) to personally tend to each and every peasant that asked for her help. Most of their petty problems were beneath her.

This was what she often used her mages for. They did magic when Regina didn't want to.

She'd liked teaching them. (Though she'd never admit to that.) Regina's methods could be… harsh, but none could ever contest that they were effective. Her students either performed adequately when she placed them in precarious positions, or they suffered the consequences of failure. So they learned what Regina taught them. And it felt good, to share that knowledge, even if it was harshly. It was how Regina herself had learned, after all.

But Emma was her favorite pupil by far. Sheer potential aside, and complementary magic (that never became less glorious to indulge herself in) aside as well, the blonde was eager to learn and even more eager to please. Regina was pleasantly surprised to note that Emma was suspiciously well read in more than just poetry. The woman had an excellent grasp on a wide range of magical theory, which saved her the tedium of assigning literature for study as she had for her previous students as well as lengthy explanations full of details, rather than the general overview she got away with providing instead. It also made for some rather fascinating discussions on the nature of magic itself: such as the difference between 'light' and 'dark' magics and between their applications in spells, curses, and enchantments, as well as the nature of magic within differing species. When it came to actual casting, she was again pleased to find that Emma was already proficient with small spells, such as lighting candles and unlocking doors. Without needing to instruct the blonde on the basics of casting, Regina was able to skip straight to the fun parts. Combat magics, enchanting objects, conjurations, and other assorted useful skills.

Emma's favorite had been switching spells. Once Regina had helped her to master the art of transporting objects and people from one place to another, the woman had no end of fun making sure nothing in her general vicinity was where it was supposed to be. It was annoying, especially when Regina was attempting to teach the woman potions; but to her eternal shame, she never once snapped at the would-be prankster. Because Emma would laugh and smile at her own little jokes and her dancing blue-green eyes and wide white smile and bright chuckles were probably amongst the most beautiful things that Regina had ever experienced.

It was a bit of a mess, really.

Regina had always been unusually fond of this particular handmaiden. The moment she took Emma as her student, however… things changed. The Queen just couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. She knew that Emma was still hiding things. Though the blonde was full to the brim with humorous anecdotes from her time working in the tavern in Lyon, she never talked about the time before that. Regina wasn't sure when exactly Emma had fled the Silverwoods and arrived in the Summerlands, and as such was uncertain as to how much of Emma's life story she was actually missing, but she did wonder what aspect of it was so awful that she would wish to forget it entirely. She wondered after Emma's real name, and her previous circumstances in life. Even her age. Emma always had been Regina's favorite puzzle, but more than that, Regina found herself appreciating the woman for more than the mystery she represented. Emma was an amusing mess of secrets, but with each secret revealed, Regina's interest only grew.

It was entirely improper. At first, Regina assumed that her affinity for the blonde was one borne of attraction. Emma was, first and foremost, a lovely creature; and Regina was no stranger to wanting a lovely woman in her bed. She was rather well known, in fact, for taking whomever she wanted whenever she wanted it.

But not Emma. That was when she realized (with some horror) that she genuinely cared for her newest pupil. Regina simply couldn't bring herself to take the blonde into her bed and use her before sending her away again, just like she would do (and had done) to anyone else she felt desire for. Regina wasn't sure what it was about Emma that made her so special, but she was. She was intelligent, and her conversation was enjoyable. She was powerful with her magic, of course, and casting together brought each of them great pleasure. Perhaps it was her genuine affection for the Queen, though, that set Emma apart. She looked at her with warmth even when she was angry or frustrated, and always made an effort to be honest and genuine, or at least make it obvious when she was lying or evading a question.

To that end, even six months after having taken Emma on as a student, Regina still wasn't quite sure what to make of their strange relationship. The blonde now lived and worked with the other magic users in Regina's employ. She wore the red sash of her station around the waist of her more tasteful –yet still practical—dresses each day, studied dutifully for the two hours Regina would dedicate to her training every other evening, assisted the other mages in their duties whenever possible, and yet still tended to Regina in the mornings and evenings. She hadn't the time to complete all of the duties of a handmaiden now, of course, (and had actually been replaced with a young redhead named Nastusia) but she still dressed her for the day and spent time brushing out Regina's hair both in the mornings and in the evenings.

And Regina did so love how Emma tended to her hair.

She'd been surprised, when Emma continued on with certain habits and duties even after Matron Josie acquired little Nastusia, but Regina never said a word about it, and neither did Emma. If they spoke of it, they'd be obligated to stop; and Regina didn't want that.

They didn't speak of quite a lot of things, really. Neither of them ever mentioned that Regina went out of her way to find excuses for Emma to remain by her side and assist her during the day. Both she and Emma were both aware (and never acknowledged the fact) that Regina knew that the blonde put in quite a bit of extra effort to specifically learn and/or maintain skills that would enable this habit. Neither dared bring up the fact that their talks had graduated from the level of small talk towards the deep confidences of close friends. This was one of the many reasons why Regina never explicitly asked Emma about her past. If Emma felt that she had to hide it from her, it was certainly something that would upset her, and a big part of Regina didn't want to know about Emma's past if it would harm their fledgling unacknowledged friendship. So she tried very hard not to think about it. It wasn't very 'Evil Queen' of her, but… it had been so very long since anyone had cared for her as Emma did, and Regina had always been weak in this way. Her heart so longed for the tender, softer emotions of life and yet was repeatedly denied them or burned by them so often that even the slightest sign of true affection sent her into a spiral of panic, fear, and unsurpassed and utter yearning.

And it had been years. She wasn't as angry and hurt as she once was. She'd risen above much of her hatred, and it had left her empty. For so long, all she'd had was her revenge, and once she'd taken a more passive approach to it after recognizing that it would only destroy what little happiness she herself had left, she'd been bereft. Though she'd never expressed as much aloud, she simply didn't feel so empty when she was with Emma. She'd like to say that it was their magic that did it. The magic that she had spent hours locked in her personal library searching for the spell to free, even though she'd pretended that the action was a simple one at the time: an afterthought that didn't require such intensive research and focus to complete. She wanted to pretend that it was that same wonderful, glorious feeling that they made together that felt like sunlight and gentle caresses and smelt like summer grass and sweet apples and cinnamon and buzzed through her whole body like a lover's touch whenever they were near. But it wasn't. Not entirely. It wasn't just Emma's magic that brought her such a strange combination of pleasure and joy. It was Emma.

She was the Queen. She was strong. Stronger than her mother, and Leopold, and Snow White, and any of the multitudes of people who had ever told her that she wasn't worthy; that she didn't deserve happiness; that being happy was –for a monster like her—something that couldn't be done. She didn't need anyone, and she didn't need Emma, but it was still nice to have her there. It made being the Queen –and therefore alone—easier. So Regina allowed herself this one indulgence. Emma.

And it was nice. Though she was often tempted to do so, Regina never sated her body's desire for Emma's touch but instead sated her heart's desire for her company. They were, insofar as was possible for a Queen and a palace mage to be, inseparable. It wasn't until shortly past the sixth month of this change in dynamic that they fought for the first time.

It started with Regina's review of a trading agreement with the Lancaster Hillsmen in the north, of all things. The Lancaster Hillsmen was a tribe of rough and ragged miners that occupied the unclaimed Blue Mountains in the north that separated the Silverlands from the Northern Kingdom. Not many were as hardy as they, and very few dared to traverse the mountain passes at all, much less live and work there as the Lancasters did. Though perilous, the Blue Mountains did have one redeeming quality. They were rich with rare ores and precious rocks and gems. The Lancaster Hillsmen were, first and foremost, miners; and they lived richly off of the products that they sold over all of the kingdoms. Regina had recently brokered a deal with the tribe that allowed the Lancasters forty percent of the harvest of one of her three great estates in the west in exchange for ten percent of the take of one of their five southernmost mines. (There was a food shortage in the Northern Kingdom that year, and the Summerlands had outbid the still-struggling Silverwoods by a margin of fifteen percent.) All that was left for Regina to do was to choose which mine was most profitable.

Emma was sitting quietly in her study with her, as she'd taken to doing recently. Regina used her to proofread her outgoing documents instead of doing so herself. (It was only efficient, she told herself.) Normally, the blonde kept quietly to the armchair by the window, so as to stay out of the Queen's way whilst she was working. Every so often, however, something on Regina's desktop would catch her eye and she'd make a comment. Such was the case today.

"Is that a map of the Lancaster mines?" she asked, breaking the silence as Regina's movement to unroll a map across the desk and lean over it ponderingly caught her attention.

No longer surprised by Emma's breadth of knowledge, Regina didn't bother to look up and instead nodded her head. "It is," she confirmed. "I am attempting to determine which of these mines—" She indicated the marked sites. "—is the most productive. I've no doubt the Lancasters were less than truthful with their provided assessment. My intelligence indicates that this one here, as opposed to their recommendation, is the true gem," she finished, jabbing at the leftmost spot.

Frowning, the blonde stood and moved to Regina's side, lips pursed. Her eyes flickered over the map thoughtfully before she released a little snort of derision. "You'd be cheated with the west mine. It's a fairly lucrative producer of emeralds, but little else of value," she said matter-of-factly. Instead, she pointed to the mine just to the right of it. "Of your options, this one would be your best bet. It yields a fair bit of silver, but the true wealth lies in the diamonds. Nearly twice the gain of their secondmost productive site."

Regina narrowed her eyes at the woman, unappreciative of being questioned. "And how would a tavern girl from Lyon know such a thing as that?" she snapped out. "Why should I trust anything you say, Emma? I don't even know your name."

In hindsight, perhaps even the most delightful puzzles became frustrating after a time. Regina wasn't quite sure what came over her to suddenly snap at the woman in this way, and she chose to ignore the pang in her chest that erupted upon seeing how stunned and somewhat wounded her former handmaiden appeared at this outburst, maintaining her stony expression.

Emma swallowed convulsively, but maintained eye contact. Regina liked that about her. She wasn't afraid to look at her.

"May I request permission to speak freely, Your Majesty?" Emma breathed. Her expression was neutral, but Regina had become adept at reading her in all the time she'd spent with the younger woman at her side these past months, assisting her with anything and everything she could. She saw sadness in those eyes, and resignation too.

She nodded.

A tight smile of gratitude tugged at Emma's pink lips for a fleeting moment before her emotions were once again wrestled into obedience. "I owe you my eternal gratitude, my Queen," she stated simply. "I never knew what a true home, or acceptance, was until you took me in that day on the road, and that is a gift more precious than the wealth of ten kingdoms put together. Perhaps you have no reason to trust me… and perhaps you shouldn't. But know that you have my loyalty completely, and without question or condition. I would gladly reveal my secrets to you, but…" Emma hesitated, using the time to compose herself. Her voice had begun to waver slightly in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, and Regina found herself feeling oddly moved by the speech. "…but if that is what you wish, then I have but one request of you. I wish to take a blood oath bond."

At this proclamation, Regina stiffened, beyond surprised. A blood oath bond…

That was old magic. Older than the heart magic she herself practiced, though blood magic had fallen out of use hundreds of years ago. It was dangerous. Heart magic was simple. Magic was emotion, and emotion stemmed from the heart –metaphorically, anyways. Take the heart, take the person. Simple. Blood magic was its more unpredictable predecessor. Blood was life, and life was its own kind of magic. Raw and elemental, and very powerful: fraught with unintended consequences and life-altering results. Whereas heart magic had a defined user and victim, blood magic affected both or all persons involved in its invocation. Such was its power. Regina had employed many methods of control in her time as Queen. Taking hearts was the simplest way to ensure obedience, but it did not ensure loyalty. Love potions worked well for that, but such things tended to be rather volatile and easily broken. Enchanted collars, memory alteration, even good, old-fashioned psychological domination. But nothing –nothing—was as powerful as a blood oath bond.

Hundreds of years before, when blood magic was still in frequent use, liegelords would use blood oath bonds to tether the very lives of their champions to their own. Someone who had taken a blood oath bond was incapable of betraying their liege. The bond manifested itself as a magical tattoo, which –depending on the strength of the bond and the power of the magical practitioner who had initiated it—could be used by the liege for any number of practical purposes. The most common side effect was the champion's ability to sense if their master was in danger, and it wasn't unheard of for a liege to have the ability to summon their champion to their side. There was sometimes a two-way emotional sensitivity aspect as well, as a blood oath bond made the champion a part of their liege. It made them their sword to wield and their faithful servant from the moment the bond took until the death of either party.

A blood bond oath was a serious thing. A dangerous and unnecessary thing.

So why did Emma want it?

"Pardon?" Regina spluttered, her impeccable composure faltering ever so slightly. She was moved by Emma's speech, but this request concerned her.

"If I were to reveal all of my secrets to you, my Queen," Emma said evenly, "I would not ever wish for you to question my loyalty. If I am bound to you, it will free me of any prior ties, and you will know that you have it –me—unconditionally." The blonde was calm. Too calm. Still, like the air just before a deluge.

Regina pursed her lips, unsure of how to feel. She did not answer Emma though, and instead focused all of her attention back onto the map beneath her hands, making a note to consider the mine with the diamonds. They did not speak for the remainder of that day, and come morning, both pretended that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred between them.

But it was a discussion that Regina knew would not be soon forgotten.