A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the reviewer who pointed out my inconsistencies. I will now attempt to fix them and make it look like they were on purpose. It's also dedicated to all the other reviewers/commenters! Your response makes it all worthwhile. That and my bestie texting me "UPDATE OR DIE"...

"You seem preoccupied," Regina commented.

"I was just remembering… I had an awesome day with you and Henry. He's a great kid."

"Thank you. I… Emma, are you-"

"Wait," Emma said. "I think I know what you're going to ask and I think I know what you'll do if I tell you."

Regina paused. She wondered if this could be true.

"So," Emma continued. "Why don't you just… Not ask?"

"Because I have never been one to avoid, Emma. The name of the White Princess. The birthday of the White Princess…"

"The White Princess is dead," Emma said firmly.

Regina gave herself a shake. She was being ridiculous. And yet-

"I bet that would give you a real kick," Emma said snarkily, hating herself, but continuing nonetheless. "To be screwing the White Princess. The daughter of your nemesis. Amazing revenge. But I'm afraid I can't indulge that particular fantasy. I'm sorry that I, a mere commoner without royal blood, am not good enough for you, but that's all I am. I can leave-"

"Emma! No, I…" Regina was close to tears. Emma moved closer to her. "I'm sorry, I just, your birthday, you, I… I was foolish. I let my imagination run away with me. Please stay."

Emma paused. "I am sorry too. I am too sensitive, I… I would like to stay."

"Even if you were the Princess, I would not "screw" you for revenge. Your lineage makes no difference to me… You are changing my life, Emma Swan," Regina said, forcing herself to be courageous. It made Emma hate herself all the more.

"You are a remarkable woman, Regina," Emma said softly, taking the Queen's hand.

"As are you," Regina responded, catching her breath.

"I do not want to talk tonight," Emma said softly, inching her mouth closer to Regina's. Regina nodded in acceptance. With Emma so close, and the air so filled with emotion, she did not feel much like talking either.

Regina shook herself from the memory and threw a book across the room. She was pacing around her chambers, trying to plan. She could not force her subjects into a war they would almost certainly lose, over a child she had little legal right to if his mother really was who they said she was. She kept remembering. Whenever she looked at the bed, let alone trying to sleep on it, she had flashes of Emma, Emma all over her, Emma inside her, and also… Emma talking to her. Emma loving her. And Emma lying to her.

Because Regina HAD seen it. She could blame herself, her foolishness, for believing Emma's denial, but Emma had let slip her birthday and Regina had caught it and she had ASKED. And Emma had evaded, and then she had lied. And then she had made Regina feel guilty, made her feel as if she was fantasising, as if she was using Emma for revenge. And THEN she had fucked Regina senseless. And then she had made sweet, sweet love to her. And then she had asked about Daniel. And Regina had laid all her secrets bare.

A small part of Regina knew that if she had known Emma's true identity, Emma would have been banished from the castle immediately, at the very least. It was not at all impossible that Regina would just have killed her. On the spot. If she'd known she was Henry's birth mother, she definitely would have killed her.

That had been it, all along. And to think, Regina had been IMPRESSED by Emma's interactions with Henry. Of course she had been nice to him! She was there to steal him. Regina did not want the boy to suffer. He was young, he would get over his sadness in a few days, and he would grow up with Emma as his mother. He wouldn't even remember Regina in a few years. He would be the White Prince, heir to the White Throne, loved and adored…

But Emma said she had been miserable there. Would he be miserable? Would he disappoint them? Would they punish him for loving her? Regina let out a fresh sob of agony as she considered the possibility that the Whites would be less than kind to her son.

He was her son. He WAS.

There was a knock on her door. She took off her shoe and threw it at the sound, just as the door opened. Maleficent caught the black stiletto with a raised eyebrow, but her face softened immediately when she caught sight of her friend. Regina kicked off her other shoe and sagged against the wall, sinking down it to sit on the floor.

"Go away," she said half heartedly.

Mal ignored her. "It's going to be okay," she said firmly.

"HOW?" Regina asked in a strangled cry.

Mal conjured a glass of amber liquid and handed it to the Queen. Regina sniffed it. Whiskey. Whiskey to numb the pain caused by the Whiskey Princess. There was poetry in there somewhere. She downed the glass in one, then held it out to be refilled. Her friend obliged, then sat opposite her on a cushion she took from the couch.

"Drink first. Questions later," Mal instructed.

"You don't know how," Regina realised, swallowing her drink and pouring herself another; Mal had poofed the decanter between them.

"Kill some peasants. That always used to cheer you up."

"You're not funny."

"Get another kid. I never much liked the brat anyway. He asked too many questions and he wasn't afraid of me, even when I was a dragon."

"You're SO not funny."

"And he's noisy. He shouts and sings."

"He plays pots like they're drums," Regina said.

Mal cackled. "He's going to give them hell."

"He does have an interesting evil streak. Also," Regina gestured to her head, "he does this to hair."

Mal laughed even more. "They'll be back within a week, begging you to take him."

Regina drank more, indulging in the illusion. But in reality, they were big and Henry was small, and if he was bad, they would punish him. Snow was selfish and impatient, and Emma…

"I don't know what to think," Regina sighed. "I don't know what to think about Emma."

"How do you mean?" Maleficent slurred.

"Well, she… It doesn't make sense. She's a lying bitch, she betrayed everything, but… It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" her friend pressed.

"If she knew Henry was her son, and the whole point was to take him from me, why did she not take him when her parents took her? If all that was an act, why would they not take Henry? And if it wasn't… Well, that makes no sense whatsoever. But… She told me she was unhappy as a child. She told me the White Princess was dead, that it wasn't who she was, but the way she said it… I thought she was angry because she was offended that I thought she was beneath me. In reality, she was hiding a lie. But she seemed very genuine. None of it adds up. Even Snow's schemes are better planned than this."

"So? You're the smart one, what's the answer?"

Regina rolled her eyes, then took another drink. "She's still a lying, scheming bitch of a whore, but… She's not in league with Snow. They took her against her will. As for Henry… I don't know. She said, when she was here, that she didn't want to take him. She said she was sorry. It might have been a lie, but I don't think so."

"And what's your plan?" Maleficent asked.

Regina chugged some whiskey from the decanter.

"RUMPELSTILTSKIN!"

Emma watched Henry. He was sleeping again, a fitful, agonised sleep. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying and he hadn't eaten anything since leaving Regina. Emma reached out to stroke his hair, but in the end she left her hand hovering above his bed. She caught sight of the leather cuff on her wrist, flexing her fingers instinctively.

"I don't blame them, Henry," she whispered. "It's… They don't understand. They don't understand Regina, they never have. Snow's hurt her, her whole life, and never understood, even though it's so obvious. And they don't understand me because they see how I'm like her, they see how we're opposites, opposites and yet the same. They see my magic and they're desperately afraid. They lived in a land terrorised by magic, they… Everyone fights what they fear. It's natural."

Even as she spoke the justifications, she resented them. They were true. She genuinely believed her parents wanted the best for her. They were just wrong about what the best for her was. They thought it was normality, upper class, privileged normality that would grow into a great and benevolent queen. They thought she should be like them.

"But blood means nothing, Henry. You're my blood, but you're not like me. You're not a liar. You're not a coward. And when you love someone… When you love someone, you tell them. I bet you do. Of course you do. You're good, Henry, and not the good my parents think they are, but the real good. I'm glad you're not like me, Henry. And I promise you, you will not grow up like I did. You won't be afraid, you won't be miserable, you won't think you deserve to suffer just because of who you are. Who you are is wonderful. It's amazing. No one will ever change it. I wanted to give you your best chance, and I did, you know. Funny thing is, she was my best chance too, and now I've gone and screwed it up for both of us."

Emma's head was in her hands. She was close to tears. She thanked the Gods Henry was still sleeping. She couldn't let him hear this. She raised her eyes to his little form. He was beautiful, but he didn't look like her. He looked like Regina. She laughed, a sharp, humourless sound. But he did, he really did. He had Emma's smile, maybe… And his father's hair.

His father.

She thought back to the conversation about Neal. Baelfire. Henry's father. And Rumpelstiltskin's long lost son. Suddenly she jumped up. She was free to roam the palace; she ran full tilt to the library. It was night time now; the hallways were empty, save a few guards who resolutely ignored her. She wondered if they were ashamed. Perhaps they had heard her screams.

She ran her finger along titles, eventually reaching the dust covered tomb she sought.

Bloode Magick.

She hauled it back to Henry's room. He was still sleeping. She remembered a folk tale, a tale about how to summon the Dark One, about how no matter where he was, he heard it when you called his name. Emma hoped he was bloody listening.

"RUMPELSTILTSKIN!"

A furious Rumple felt a simultaneous pull. Despite his rage and frustration at the failure of Neverland to produce his kin, he could not help but be fascinated. One call was from Regina Mills, at the Black Castle. It was ANGRY. And very desperate. The other was from Emma Swan, at the White Palace. It was equally desperate. But it had something else… An idea. This Emma wanted to make a deal. A good one. Rumple disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

"Your Highness, it is my very great pleasure to meet you. May I enquire how you know my name?"

"It is often spoken."

"I suppose you're right. I sense determination-"

"Yeah, yeah, you make deals, right?"

"Indeed I do."

Rumple looked around, wondering why they were in a nursery.

"You aren't going to offer me the child, are you?" he asked, sounding rather bored. "Been there, done that, not interested in going down that particular road again any time soon."

"Not the kid, jeez! What psychos do you deal with? Nah, I just want you to get rid of this."

Emma held out her wrist, showing Rumple the cuff. He grinned.

"You do have magic. I did not sense it when you called, but this must be why. That is quite wonderful. And I can remove it. But that would put me in quite a bind with your parents… so what can you do for me to make it worth my while?"

"I can give you what you need to find your son. I already know he's back in this realm. And you can use a hair from his child. A single hair and nothing more, and you make this potion, and it-"

"Yes, yes, I am familiar with the potion. Which would be all very well if HE HAD A CHILD. Which he does not."

Emma inclined her head towards Henry. Rumple raised his eyebrows, but went over to the bed. He reached out with one finger and carefully touched Henry's skin. There was a spark of magic.

"I'll be damned," he breathed. "This boy is my grandson."

"Yeah, one big happy bloomin' family. Do we have a deal?"

Rumple waved his hand. Emma let out a moan of ecstasy as the cuff disappeared. Rumple smiled in wonder at Henry, then plucked a hair, causing the child to wake. By the time Henry had his eyes fully open, though, Rumple had disappeared. Emma grabbed Henry, feeling her magic pulse through her, stronger than ever. She gave herself no time to be afraid. She would make this right.

There was a pounding on Regina's bedroom door. Regina looked up from her semi-lying position on the couch. Mal stood, only a little unsteadily, and swung the door open.

"Fuck me."

"That's a bad word, Auntie Mal."

"HENRY!"

Regina was off the couch in a flash; Henry wriggled away from Emma and charged into his adoptive mother's arms. Regina held him tightly, kissing his hair.

Emma watched the reunion, the flicker of pride in her heart quickly snuffed out by guilt. Because she had lied. She had lied while Regina opened up her soul. She had caused Regina's trust to be betrayed yet again. She had put this family through hell.

She bit her lip. She had to speak. Finally, she had to speak.

"I… I do not expect forgiveness. But you should know that… That you are his mother. And that I meant it."

Regina looked up.

"Meant what?"

"When… When I said I love you."

Regina wished she could pretend the words meant nothing to her now. But as she stared at the desolate girl in front of her, all she wanted to do was pull her into an embrace and tell her she loved her too. She was seconds away from doing so when Maleficent intervened.

"You, Swan, are coming with me," the dragon announced. She grabbed Emma by the scruff of her neck and escorted her from the room.

"Don't worry, I won't kill her," she called over her shoulder to Regina. "I'll get her back to you in time for breakfast."