Emma woke up slowly, her body still tired and stiff from being anxious through the night. The sky was getting lighter, the sun about to rise, and Emma blinked rapidly, trying to find her bearings.
The wraith. Her memories. Henry, Snow, Regina. The truth. It was so suddenly overwhelming that she closed her eyes, willing it away. Wishing to be back in Manhattan, Henry having stayed up late playing video games and her having to run across the street in pajamas because they were out of eggs.
She wanted normal back. She wanted simplicity.
Her hand felt warm, pleasantly so, and she flexed her fingers only to feel equally warm skin against her own. She opened her eyes again, her head rolling to the side to see Regina still beside her, Henry snoring softly on his back.
Hello, complication.
Licking her lips, Emma took in the sight of the woman beside her, head tilted away towards her son, her body angled toward him at the same time her hand remained interwoven with Emma's own. It felt nice, comforting, and Emma took the moment to feel it, to soak it in, because it couldn't last.
Things had changed between her and Regina, were changing; improving. But issues she had put a pin in the night before were still there, and in the rapidly rising light of day, Emma couldn't ignore them.
Because Regina was no longer some vaguely damaged woman Emma had just met, wasn't some stranger she just happened to feel close to. She was Henry's mother, was Snow's rival, was responsible for many disrupted happinesses, and partly to blame for Emma's own past.
The pull she felt to Regina was scary, now, with so much more at stake. This was no longer something innocent that was maturing, growing between them. It wasn't neat. She was now forced with trying to reconcile the burgeoning romantic and emotional interest with the festering sense of guilt for even admitting that want.
After all, this woman was responsible for so many horrors that had befallen her own parents, her family. She couldn't simply ignore that. It had been easier, when they were reluctant allies, and almost friends. Circumstance took away the option to decide, made it safe to be around Regina, spend time with her. Now she was faced with choice. And Emma had no idea if she could make the one that tempted her in Regina's presence; the one that meant possibly hurting the people she loved. That meant admitting—to them and herself—that she wanted to be near this woman that wasn't purely good.
Regina started to stir, shifting to her other side and rolling toward Emma. She stilled, frozen as Regina's dark hair fell over her face and her fingers flexed against Emma's own. Holding her breath, Emma's heart started to pound, and she slowly began to move her hand back, her fingers slipping from Regina's.
"Morning," Regina murmured, her lips parting with the heavy breath that followed, and Emma's tension eased. She left her hand in place, their palms parted but their fingers still entangled, and she told herself to breathe. There would be time for figuring it all out later. All she had to do right now was breathe.
Brown eyes blinked slowly, opening to look at Emma beneath dark lashes. Her cheeks looked so soft, and Emma remembered the feel of her skin, the way it could leave her breathless all on its own. Emma licked her lips, her eyes dropping down to Regina's. Her eyes lingered on the scar there, the one that had grounded her at the castle, the one that had caught so boldly in the moonlight.
The one that made Regina so real, so tangible to Emma time and again. It means acceptance for who I was and who I am, Regina had told her. She didn't want her misdeeds to be forgotten. She wanted acceptance, forgiveness.
Emma knew forgetting everything—like her mother was trying to do—was something she would never accomplish. But the acceptance, the forgiveness, Emma was unsure if she would be able to. But for the woman across from her—fingers lightly stroking her own, brown eyes bright in the morning light—Emma was pretty sure she'd like to try.
"Hello," Emma said, finally, her voice croaky from lack of sleep. Regina started to sit up, her hand pulling back, and Emma curled her fingers, held them close as she whispered, "Wait. Just," she licked her lips, and stared at Regina deeply, her brows furrowed in confusion at Emma's words. "Just one minute longer. Just lay here with me."
Regina swallowed harshly, her chest heaving slightly with the force of her breaths, and she let her shoulder fall back to the hard pillow. Her head resting on the bedroll, she smirked at Emma and murmured, "Just because you got your memories back doesn't mean you get to be a slug today, Emma."
Her lips twitched at the playful teasing, and she knew—she was certain—that for the woman before her, who danced so fearlessly and loved so deeply, that she would try. "Talk to me when it happens to you," she teased back, and they stayed there, in the moment together.
The sun was starting to cover them in morning light, the air seeming to twinkle around them. Emma reached across the small space between them, the worn leather of the glove on her hand molding to her fingers as she cupped Regina's jaw. It wasn't what she wanted—wasn't warm skin on warm skin, so she tightened their fingers together and Regina's eyes fluttered shut.
The moment was impossibly sweet, impossibly perfect, and that meant it was almost gone. Nothing this good lasted long, and Emma scooted closer, needing to taste Regina once more before it was over.
The resounding sound of a bow being plucked startled them, and Regina's eyes flew open as they sat up, hands falling apart as they shifted away.
Snow stood by the campfire, flames high as it had been rebuilt during her watch. Her back was to the tent as she held her bow up, and a bird fell with a thump to the forest floor.
Regina was the first to stand, dropping Emma's fingers too fast, and Emma felt their loss acutely. "I'll get the horses ready," she murmured. "We should leave soon—if your mother's wrong it could take days to find the correct location."
Her voice was even, measured, and Emma knew the issues between them weren't one-sided. For all the slights against the Charmings, Regina bore marks, too.
Their moment had been just that; a single second in the larger scheme, but one that she could cling to; one that she knew would remind her of what it was she would be fighting for.
And she would. She would fight for it; for them.
Saddling up had been a bit awkward. With her regained memories, and a heavy night of revelation and realization, Emma would have rather ridden alone. As it was, she was forced into close proximity with a mother that finally understood how deeply her abandonment issues ran, and a woman that Emma was ready to consider romantically, but with a myriad of issues they still needed to address.
Frankly, neither option was perfect. Emma had waffled, wishing someone else would make the call.
"Can I ride with you, mom?" And then Henry did. Of course he'd want to be with her, to be near her after realizing he'd been without her for a year. After the tearful goodbye she had only sort-of witnessed by the town line.
"Of course, Henry," Regina smiled down at him brilliantly, her bare hand reaching out to stroke his face lovingly. "Let me help you."
Henry just smiled back, didn't argue or roll his eyes or make comment at all to the fact that he was almost thirteen and he could do it himself. The way he would have with her, the way he might have with Regina, if things hadn't gone the way they had between them.
Letting Regina boost him up onto the horse, Emma wondered if the affection he was showing her now, while authentic, was just a little bit more accommodating, a little bit bigger as he tried to make up for lost years.
She'd woken twice when they'd been in the Storybrooke loft together—sharing Emma's too-small bedroom—to the sounds of whimpers from her son. Once she had caught the word "miss" and the second time it had been "sorry", but he'd woken suddenly both times with mom lingering in the air between them.
Red-hot guilt stabbed at her, as she remembered how she'd tried to brush it off, tried to rationalize that she was best for Henry; that she was the Savior, and that Regina was the Evil Queen. That—despite the near-constant reminders in her head that she had given him up—she was Henry's mother, and that she had a responsibility to keep him safe.
When that justification had fallen flat, exactly, she hadn't been sure.
Regina swung up onto her horse behind Henry, laughing as she showed him how to hold the reins, how to read the horse.
"Emma?" Snow asked tentatively. Turning, Emma shrugged her jacket back on, now clad in all of her layers, and nodded. Snow pulled herself onto her horse and held her hand out to help Emma. She ignored the proffered hand—with just the smallest bit of guilt—and scooted in behind her.
Regina and Henry led the way out—Snow having described the destination over breakfast—and Emma tried to clear her mind and let the non-stop questions fade to the back.
Snow remained silent but twitchy, like she was aware of how on edge Emma was, and she couldn't decide if it made it all worse or better. Part of her wanted Snow to feel the pain, the anxiety that came from Emma voicing her deepest truth the night before. But a bigger part of her just felt guilty, purposefully wanting her own mother to hurt as payback for something she thought was good.
After all, she wouldn't want Henry to feel this way, with this heavy burden of vengeance. Part of what made him so amazing was how intensely he believed in good, in the heroes winning. And heroes didn't do vengeance or spite. They did forgiveness.
Henry thought of her as a hero, didn't he? And Regina, too. He'd accepted them both as heroes, as fighting for good and doing what was right no matter the cost. Regina had fought to earn the title, over and over, through missteps and non-stop doubt—Emma's, among others.
But what had Emma done to be so worthy of the title? She had been born the Savior, as if the title was strong enough to negate her past, the parts of her that took the easy way out, that held on to grudges and lost herself in doubt. She was no hero, not like he thought she was.
Regina's laugh echoed on the path between the trees, and Emma looked over to find Henry, brilliant smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder at his mother.
It hurt to see him that happy and free with someone that wasn't her. Emma knew—the voice small but strong in her head—that this scene was familiar. Three years ago and positions reversed—minus the horses and wraith attacks—that they'd been here before.
Regina must have felt the same thing at the idea of losing her son to someone else. And Emma hadn't noticed. Hadn't stopped to considered any of it, not really. There had been extenuating factors, of course, and Emma still stood by her actions. But she hadn't noticed what was happening around her, how the more she whittled away at her and Henry's relationship, the more she'd hurt her.
In all the time they'd spent together since that time, she'd never broached the subject. Never tried to defend herself, or blame Emma, or apologize or anything. Emma wondered if that was one of Regina's fragments, one of the items between them with a pin, needing to be discussed.
The idea made her uncomfortable, a topic she'd rather leave alone from a time she'd rather not revisit. She wasn't proud of all of her actions, then, and she wasn't sure she wanted to learn more of Regina's. Emma was willing to work on forgiveness, was ready to become the true hero her son saw her as, but that didn't mean she was ready to take it all on at once.
Snow looked over her shoulder at Emma, before looking between her and their companions on the other horse. "Is it hard to see him with her?" she asked, facing forward.
Emma shrugged. "A little, I guess."
Snow nodded. "Is it…" she cleared her throat, her back stiffening against Emma as she asked, "difficult for you, now that you remember?"
Emma laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, I mean a little. You know how it is, right? When you got your memories back? Trying to make two lives fit together when they overlap, it's kind of hard."
Snow slowed the horse's trot to something slower, letting a bit of space grow between the animals. "Sure, I understand. What about with Regina? Is it hard to reconcile who she is now with who she was before the curse?"
Emma stiffened. "She's the same person, Mary Margaret. She may have grown, but she's not just someone new you can pretend you just met." Her words were harsher than she intended, the second-hand defensiveness startling herself.
"I know that," Snow argued. "Where did you get the impression that I didn't?" Emma remained silent. Looking over at the other horse, Snow spoke in a wistful voice, "She saved my life when we first met. Did you know that?"
Emma licked her lips. "No, actually I didn't."
"David likes to forget it ever happened. Most people do, actually. That doesn't mean I don't remind them." Not knowing what to say, Emma just held on to Snow's vest tighter. "We were attacked by an ogre. When we first got back here from Storybrooke." She looked over her shoulder briefly. "I didn't have my bow, but David had his sword.
"We scattered, David pulling me with him, but Regina went the other way. She was alone. Completely alone as everyone left her."
Emma licked her lips, looking over at the subject of the story. She was smiling, hugging Henry and talking to him. "What happened?"
"I grabbed your father's sword, and I ran to her." Emma stiffened in surprise. "She had lost her child, Emma. Just as I had. The look on her face, it was, well there wasn't the fear you would expect. There was concern, but mostly it was just apathy. She didn't have it in her to fear for her life. And I understood that. I felt it, with her.
"I got to her side, and I threw the sword at its eye, but I was too far away, there was no way it would have made it, until I saw Regina raise her hand, and correct its course." She breathed out. "We both realized at the same time, that we were going to have to be in this together. That there was no way we would make it through the first day if we didn't learn to move past it all."
Emma held her tongue, Regina's complaint about that very thing still fresh in her mind. But it wasn't her issue to air. Regina didn't need an advocate, and if she wanted Emma be one she would need to be the one to say so.
Snow quieted, and Emma felt a bit lost, unsure as to the point of the story. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked, plainly.
"Did Regina tell you how I was marked?" Emma swallowed, her body shifting.
"No, she didn't."
"After that night, Regina and I became allies of sorts. We never talked about it, but it was comforting to have someone there that knew the loss of a child like this."
"You had David," Emma reminded.
"But Regina had no one," Snow replied. "We started spending time together. Mostly just working on plans to defend against the ogres. Sometimes we discussed Regina's faulty magic, the deficit of fairy dust.
"One night, about two months ago, I suggested we go riding."
"You two, riding together?" Emma was skeptical.
"It wasn't the first time I'd suggested it. She always said no, except for this time."
"How come?"
"It was Henry's birthday that night," Snow said, sympathetically, and Emma sucked in a breath. She hadn't even thought of that, of Regina away from her son, not even knowing if he was OK. "She was more…kind to me than she had been in a very long time. We took the horses out, and—there are some things you may not know about our past, Regina's past. But it was a situation fraught with bad memories for both of us."
Emma didn't, actually, know much about Regina's past. Back in Storybrooke, the only answers she ever got that were more than a dismissive sneer were in passing, and vague. But now, Emma wanted to know. She wanted to know it all, start filling in the gaps that were only making more questions.
"Why?" Emma asked.
"That's for Regina to tell you," she responded, quietly. "I made that mistake once with her. Did something that harmed her accidentally." The reference was—again—vague, but it made Emma perk up a bit. By forgetting my mistakes and not taking responsibility for her own, Regina had said. Was this what she had meant?
"We took the horses out, and we rode for a long time. A very long time. It was night by the time we started heading back, but Regina looked more awake than she had in months." Snow tensed. "We were almost back, when the air got colder. The horses started to kick and stomp, and fearing we'd be bucked off we both dismounted.
"Regina started to scream, and when I looked at her she was gripping her wrist, her hand burning."
"The wraith was there," Emma surmised.
"Yes. She fought it with fire, I shot at it with an arrow, but missed. I had just one arrow left, and so I reached for Regina, took her hand and tried to pull her away so we could run back to the castle." Emma held her breath, knowing what Snow was about to say. "I grabbed her left hand, and it burned me, put the mark on my skin."
Regina slowed her horse up ahead as they neared a stream, dismounting to let the horse rest for a bit. Snow slowed, too, the gap between the horses leaving them a few minutes of privacy. Snow dismounted, helping Emma down.
Looking her in the eye, Snow said, "Her face, Emma. When she realized what had happened. She looked completely broken. She looked like she had when she let Henry go."
Emma thinned her lips. It just seemed so out of character, based on what she knew between them. But Snow, Snow wanted to think the best, could have been exaggerating it. "I'm not projecting, Emma," she said, reaching out to take her by the wrist. "I know it must seem that way. That I couldn't be that important to her. But I know I was." She sniffed, looking over her shoulder as Regina stroked her horse. "I know I am."
Emma was still confused, the story moving but out of place. Snow led the horse toward the others, and Emma followed. "I guess I still don't understand," Emma said, kicking at loose gravel.
"Ever since I was marked, David's been awful to Regina. He blames her, I know—the whole castle does, actually—and he acts like the mark isn't there. That every time I go with Regina I'm doing it to help her, and can't understand why." Snow faced ahead, but looked at Emma out of the corner of her eye. "What David's never understood is that I don't need him to fight my battles," she laughed lightly, letting go of the reins as the horse walked toward the stream.
Regina looked over at them, her hand on Henry's back. Her brow was furrowed, curious and possibly suspicious, and Emma tried to give her a thin smile. "I don't need him to take on my grudges, Emma," Snow said beside her. "And I don't want you to, either."
"I think it's just up ahead," Snow said, their horse now leading. The sun was high in the sky, their journey having taken just half a day thus far.
Of course, that was assuming Snow knew where they were going—she had a vague description from David years ago—and that the place she believed to hold the second sword, would actually be the correct one.
Most of this area of the Enchanted Forest—Emma was told they were back in Snow's kingdom—was barren, the grass yellow and dying, the trees sparse. But as they followed the path, the trees seemed to thicken, the grass growing taller, fuller.
Each step brought them into more lush plant life. Everything around them grew warmer, more alive, and Emma couldn't stop herself from looking up at the crisp greenery over head.
"My, my, aren't you the city girl," Regina said from behind her, their horse just a few feet behind. Emma smiled to herself, but bit back a retort. The horse slowed, and Snow dismounted, the others doing the same. "Am I supposed to be seeing something I'm not?" Regina raised a brow.
Emma looked around, and something felt strange; oddly familiar. "Have I been here before?"
"I can't imagine how," Regina replied.
"You have," Snow nodded. "The lake we used to get back to Storybrooke after we jumped into the hat, that's the one we need."
"Because it has, wasn't it like restorative magic?"
"Restorative powers, yes," Snow nodded, her smile big. "It's here. This is it, I know it." Snow walked forward, and the others followed. Looking over her shoulder, Emma caught sight of Henry, armed with David's sword, swinging it in the air feet behind them.
"Hey, kid," Emma scrunched up her face, shaking her head. "Not a good idea."
"He shouldn't even have it, Emma," Regina said as they walked, brushing branches from each other's path. "You saw what happened—" she cut herself off, Emma nodding.
"Yeah, I do. But look at him. He's such a cute little soldier," she smirked.
"Don't you even joke," she responded darkly.
"Kid, are you gonna be stupid about that thing again?"
Henry rolled his eyes, stilling his movements. "No, ma," he muttered. "I'm almost an adult." Both women looked to each other and pursed their lips, trying to contain their laughter and failing. "Hey! I am," he whined, proving his maturity.
"Yeah, OK, kid. Talk to me about that when you stop ordering off the kid's menu." Henry pouted, and Emma turned to Regina. "Besides," she picked up their argument, "I gotta carry this one now." She held up the sheath that carried Clarent. "Had to put the other one somewhere."
Regina rolled her eyes. "And naturally our son is the only way to dispose of your old toys."
Emma knew it wasn't anything new between them, but she warmed at our son. There had been no hesitation, no weight given to the term. It was accepted now, that Henry was theirs. Getting him back after a year hadn't instilled a new sense of possessiveness in Regina. Merely acceptance.
"Yeah, but he has like zero interest in my clothes," she joked.
"I can't say I blame him," Regina muttered, gesturing to the iconic jacket.
Emma smirked, and leaned in closer to her as Snow slowed up ahead. "You talk a big game for someone that helped me save it," she smirked, and turned to show off the arm with the repaired sleeve.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said in denial, crossing her arms and stopping behind Snow.
"Uh huh. So you didn't do this?" Regina's poker face remained. "So I suppose you don't care if I just," she pulled at the zipper, tugging it down before slipping the jacket off of her shoulders and tossing it to the ground behind Regina. "I should just leave it here?"
"Do as you like. I'm certain it will make a lovely nest for some snakes."
Emma paled, her flirtatious smirk falling as she looked down and pulled her arms into her chest. "Snakes? Like all around here?"
"Yes, Miss Swan," her eyes widened dramatically. "Snakes."
"This is it," Snow said, turning to look at the rest of the group.
Looking past Snow, Emma finally noticed the lake behind her. It was breath-taking; clear blue water sparkling in the sunlight, and lush green trees surrounding the lake. The sandy shore was littered by large rocks, one resting almost halfway into the water.
Resting her hand on the hilt of the sword at her hip, Emma walked forward, toward the water. She walked toward the shoreline, her boots crunching the sand beneath her feet. Something felt different about this place. It wasn't the familiarity she had felt when she recognized the land; it was deeper, more instinctual, and she scrunched her face up in concentration.
"Emma?" Snow asked, following her. "Are you alright?"
Emma nodded distractedly, and hesitated by the large rock for a long moment. "Yeah, it's nothing. I guess I just," she trailed off. "Any clue as to where we'll find this thing?" she asked Snow.
"Hmm," she murmured, and began looking around.
Emma stayed where she was, something tickling in her gut that made her grip on the sword grow harder. "Here," Regina said, passing her the jacket she'd dropped by the path.
Smiling knowingly, Emma reached out. "You don't want me to lose it, do you?" Regina sniffed. "I think you kinda like how it looks on me," she flirted.
"Nonsense. I simply decided it would be cruel to assault such a beautiful landscape with such a horrendous blight."
"Uh huh," Emma said, holding the jacket up—and maybe shaking it a little, you know, just in case of snakes—and pulling it back on. She looked past Regina, to where Henry stood with his sword by the water, and Snow was searching away, before looking back at her. "Just so you know," she leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. "I like it much better on you," she whispered into her ear, and Regina shivered.
Emma bit her cheek, suppressing the pride she felt at the flush on Regina's cheeks, the way her eyelids dropped slightly.
"Is that a snake?" Henry asked, and Emma sprung away from Regina in an instant, her hand pulling the sword from the sheath as she looked around. Her foot caught on the heavy boulder beside her, disturbing the brush that grew around it.
"Where, kid?" Henry pointed down to the ground by their feet, and Emma breathed out in relief.
"It's a plant, dear," she said condescendingly, and kicked it out of the way. "What were you going to do, stab it?"
"I don't know! But I figured the sword wouldn't hurt."
"Well it's gone now, Indiana." Emma narrowed her eyes playfully, and leaned against the boulder.
"My hero," she deadpanned.
Regina's eyes turned serious, and she stepped closer to the rock Emma leaned against. "What's that?"
Emma turned, looking at the rock, but saw nothing but stone. "I don't see anything."
"There," she said impatiently, pointing to the area covered with brush. Kneeling, she moved it aside, revealing carved words similar to the ones back in Camelot. "Just as the heartiest flowers will wither in an icy clime," she moved more of the plant life, "even the purest of hearts may darken over time."
"So this is it?" Henry asked excitedly, as Snow came over to join the group.
Regina nodded. "It would seem so."
"I don't see a sword," Emma stated, touching the boulder.
"Merlin said it was at the bottom of the lake," Henry reminded them. "But if it's bottomless, how do we get it?"
"When David came here years ago, there was a woman that protected the lake. She died, but maybe another guardian took her place?" Snow suggested.
"It's worth a shot," Emma shrugged. "So the riddle," Emma pointed at the rock, trailing off.
"It's about Snow," Regina said with a sneer. "It seems you darkening yourself will prove useful after all."
Snow's features flinched in hurt, but she nodded. "I suppose so." She took long strides over to the water's edge. "Hello? I'm looking for one of Merlin's Twin Blades," she said warily.
Regina rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. After a moment the water began to ripple. Light gleamed in the clear ocean, making the water sparkle gorgeously, and Emma took a small step away from the shore.
From the lake emerged a goddess; there was no other way to put it. She was stunning: dark skin and long curly black hair, pulled back from her face with glittering pins and jewels. Her face was serene, full lips pulled into a small smile and wise brown eyes that were dusted with silver on the lids. She wore a white dress, with small onyx jewels dusting the skirt of the gown, and growing thinner as they reached up toward her waist.
She stayed in the water, standing just a few feet deep, and looked at Snow expectantly.
"Hello," Snow smiled. "My name is Snow. I've come looking for the second of Merlin's Twin Blades, and I believe I am the one your riddle describes," she gestured toward the inscribed stone.
The woman tilted her head slightly, and held up a hand. "I'm sorry; you are not."
"Oh," Snow said, her face falling. "But do you have it?"
"The Blade?" she asked. "I do," she confirmed, when Snow nodded. "But I can only give it to the true wielder."
Snow looked over to Emma. "Is it my daughter?"
The woman looked her over, and stepped closer, nearly walking out of the water, but stopping just inches from the sand. "What is your name?" she asked.
"Emma," she breathed, nervous. "I have Clarent," she explained, pulling it out of the sheath and holding it out sideways, non-threateningly. "Who are you?" she tried not to sound accusatory.
"My name is Nimue," she answered regally. "And you are not meant to bear the second Blade."
Emma stiffened, and dropped the sword back into the sheath. "I'm not?"
"The Twin Blades cannot be used by a single person, lest they are returned to a singular sword." Nimue walked closer to Emma, and gently gestured toward the pommel of her sword. "That sword is powerful on its own. It has stopped wars. Brought peace to entire lands."
Emma looked at the weapon in awe. "Really?"
Nimue smiled knowingly. "Yes. But it also saw many hardships, just as its twin." She reached down to the water, and pulled out a sheath of dark brown leather. "Are you certain you need the strength of both Blades?"
"Yes," Regina said from behind Emma. She had her arm protectively on Henry's shoulder, where he was pressed into her side. "Do you know who the bearer is?" she asked a bit impatiently.
"I do," Nimue replied, smiling. "Emma cannot bear this sword because she carries its Twin," she started, "but her destiny has brushed up against the one who can."
"I have?" Emma said, surprised, looking down at the sword. "How do I know who it was?"
Nimue beckoned her closer, and Emma walked toward the water's edge, just a foot away from the Goddess. "The Blades alone are powerful, but together they are unstoppable. Such power is not bestowed lightly, and only a select few may wield the swords. Those who understand sacrifice, and whose intentions are true. Those who have been marked by Fate."
Gesturing toward Emma's sword with a raised eyebrow, Nimue held out her hand. Emma drew the weapon slowly, turning it and extending it to her pommel-first. Taking it in her hand, she held it up, the blade gleaming in the sunlight. "Fate has marked you for Clarent. Just as it has marked another for Caliburn," she held up the sheathed sword slightly.
"So we're like soul mates?" The idea left a sour taste in Emma's mouth.
Nimue shook her head and her hair bounced softly, the jewels catching the light. "Not quite. Your fates have been intertwined, by these Blades among other things. But your paths, together and apart, remain undetermined. The only thing guaranteed is that your paths would cross."
"So I've met this person," Emma said.
"You have," Nimue responded patiently, and handed back Clarent before she turned her attention toward Regina.
Emma felt her heart pump faster, as she turned to look at Regina behind her. "Regina?" Emma asked in surprise, and Regina looked back with a similar expression.
"Caliburn carries a heavy past," Nimue said, beckoning Regina closer. She licked her lips before stepping away from Henry, to meet Nimue at the water. "It has strengthened the blade, made it capable of breaking through the thickest of obstacles," she said softly, her words only truly meant for Regina.
"It is used to darkness, but it carries the ability for great peace, just as its Twin," Nimue said, her brows raised as she made a point. Regina looked achingly young in that moment, her face open in surprise and her eyes frantically searching Nimue's own.
She held out the second Blade—Caliburn—and Regina took it, her delicate fingers sliding over the dark leather of the sheath to grip it tightly. Nimue looked at Regina closely, and reached out to set a hand gently on her wrist before she took the sword. "Stories of this world tend to get twisted along the way," she said sadly. "Sometimes by our own hand. It is important to focus on the truth," her eyes flickered to Snow, "and not the facts."
Regina's jaw clenched at the gentle admonition, and she pulled her hand away, taking the sword with her to rest at her side.
"There is one stipulation for this sword," Nimue warned, her voice louder, for everyone. "The strength of the Blades is too great to let wander these worlds for long. You must return both of them to me before tomorrow's sun sets." She looked around the group, her eyes lingering on Henry. Noticing her attention, Regina stepped back, away from the water to stand between Nimue and her son.
"We will," Snow answered, when the others remained silent.
Nimue nodded, smiling with her full lips pressed together. "Then I bid you a safe journey," she said, and disappeared beneath the water.
Emma stood, a bit in shock at what had just happened. Turning to Regina, the woman had a far off look, as she ran her thumb along the soft leather of the sheath. "Regina?" Emma asked, and she turned.
"We should head back to the cave," she said, slipping the sheath onto her belt and securing it.
We shouldn't waste any more time," she licked her lips, and walked away from the water, toward their horses back on the path.
Henry followed, and as Emma took a step in that direction, Snow fell into step beside her. "We haven't talked about it," Snow started, and Emma looked over at her curiously. "What you're going to do, now that you have your memories back?"
She was asking the very question Emma herself had the night before, and the truth was she had no idea what her answer was. "Yeah, I know," she said, biting at her cheek.
"So," Snow prompted after a moment, putting her hand on Emma's arm and stopping her. "Do—Are you thinking of going back?"
Emma swallowed, her heart pounding with indecision. "I don't know, Mary Margaret. This world, it's not my home. It's not Henry's home." Snow's face fell. "But I can't simply walk away from you, from David—"
"From Regina," she added, looking nervous. "You have her to think about, too," she reminded.
Emma felt her skin begin to prickle, her legs grow restless; she wanted to run. Except, in the middle of the Enchanted Forest, that wasn't exactly an option.
"Hey, kid?" Emma called to Henry, leaving Snow standing at the edge of the path as Henry helped Regina with the horses. "You wanna ride with your grandma for a while?"
Regina's jaw tightened a bit, and Emma looked away. She didn't mean to hurt her, but she couldn't be with Snow for the next however long it took. Couldn't listen to her try to convince her to stay when a huge part of her wanted that, too.
"Sure," Henry said, smiling, and pulled himself up on the lighter horse. "Mom started teaching me how to ride, so just sit back," he smiled, and Emma gave a small laugh at his pride.
Snow slid in behind him, squeezing his shoulders gently, and Regina mounted her horse. "Are you waiting for an invitation, Miss Swan?" Regina asked, one brow raised, and Emma pulled herself up to sit behind her. "If you're quite ready," she started, and Emma nodded, her hands falling to Regina's hips comfortably, and she nodded at Snow to lead them toward the cave.
"So," Regina asked, after they'd been riding in silence for a good hour. "Is there a reason you sought to separate me from my son?" Her words were heavy, but not angry, and Emma let her fingertips flutter against her hips in a small soothing motion.
"I'm sorry, Regina. I just had to have some space from Snow," she murmured, shifting impossibly closer as she lowered her voice.
Regina remained silent for a moment, her body relaxing a bit and when she spoke, her voice was even, lighter. "I suppose she's rather a lot to take all at once."
Emma snorted, and saw Regina's lips quirk up in a small smile. "Yeah, something like that."
"Would you like to talk about it?" she asked, fingers tightening on the reins. Emma's heart swelled, her stomach fluttering at the question. Because no matter what things were like between Regina and Snow now, no matter how things had been changing, Emma was positive that being a counselor about the woman was the last thing she wanted to do.
Emma slid her right hand away from her hip, forward, until her fingers curved over the roundness of her body to the flat of her stomach in silent thanks. "No," she leaned forward, her breath stirring Regina's hair. "I really don't."
Regina sucked in a breath and Emma smirked. Her gloved hand slid forward to rest heavy against Regina's lower belly, and Emma looked forward, saw Henry and Snow talking and facing forward, feet ahead of them on the trail.
"Emma," Regina breathed, covering Emma's hand with her own, her fingers resting between the spaces of Emma's.
"Hmm?" she murmured innocently, and brought her left hand up to brush Regina's hair back, tucking it behind her ear. Heat was pooling between her legs, the culmination of years of tension in Storybrooke, of days of intimacy here and unfulfilling touches since the startling revelation of her feelings for Regina.
Emma rested her hand on Regina's shoulder, and pressed herself forward as she bent just a bit to press a delicate kiss to the shell of her ear. Regina's fingers tightened on Emma's hand against her stomach, her fingers curling over to Emma's palm, and Emma could feel her back stiffen between them.
It was a distraction; Emma knew it, was a bit ashamed of it, even, but it didn't make the red-hot want that ran through her dissipate or ease. It only made it burn hotter. There was a heavy decision to be made, one that Emma was sure would leave someone unhappy, and Emma didn't want to think about it.
She just wanted one more moment.
Running her hand down Regina's arm, she let it rest hotly against her thigh. Emma's own were trembling, her breath catching as she pressed her hand firm against Regina's stomach and shifted her hips, pulling her back to grind subtly against her ass.
Regina's hand faltered on the reins, they slipped through the fingers of her gloved hand as she swallowed, and reached behind her to grasp a Emma's knee, snug against her own.
It was wanton, desperate, and yet to anyone else it could look perfectly safe. Only their heavy breathing betrayed their passion, and Emma let her breath fall hot against Regina's smooth cheek. "I think I've wanted this for a long time," she admitted, and curled her fingers on Regina's thigh until they were resting just past the line of decent, bare skin brushing the thin material covering her inner thigh.
Regina's grip tightened on Emma's knee, and she shifted her hips back, moving almost imperceptibly between Emma's legs, her ass rubbing against the thick seam against her center and making heat rise rapidly to her cheeks.
Emma's tongue flicked out against her lips, so close to Regina's ear that the woman shuddered at the sudden wetness, and Emma bit back a moan.
Sudden laughter startled them both out of the moment, Regina's hand darting back to take the reins as Henry and Snow remained oblivious ahead.
Emma pulled her own hand back from Regina's thigh with a gentle squeeze, and rested it heavily against her own. She started to pull back the hand on Regina's stomach, but she held it fast, and Emma smiled, her heart racing.
They lasted another half-hour before they had to stop for dinner. Snow—as she'd promised on the ride—took Henry to try and catch their dinner, leaving Emma and Regina to gather wood for a fire.
The heat that had built between them on the ride hadn't ebbed, but had been continually stoked as they fought to keep their hands to themselves. Emma had drifted in and out of heavy thoughts, brought back each time by the warm weight of the woman against her.
Now, dismounted and several feet apart as they picked up suitable branches, Emma felt her heart grow heavy. She needed to talk to Regina about it—what they'd do when they returned to Merlin.
The Enchanted Forest—from what she'd experienced—was not safe for their son. There were too many dangers, too many ways he could be hurt. Two of which had happened in just three days. She had to take him back to New York. They had a life there, he had friends, she had a job she enjoyed.
There was no option for her—they had to return. But would Regina be willing to come with them? Henry was her life, no question, and she couldn't see her leaving him again. Not to mention the fact that it seemed there was little here to keep her. It soothed Emma at the same time it made her nervous.
Because things were not fixed between them. They couldn't slide from what they had been to what Emma thought they might be, down the road. If Regina went back with them, how would it work? Would they live together? Would Regina slot herself into Emma's life like her memories splicing together?
The idea was ridiculous; Regina wasn't a new piece of furniture for the apartment. If they were going back together, it would be as partners. Equals.
The thought was daunting. It meant the end of the simple life she'd known the past year, and Emma wanted to hold on to that time and never let go. Because even though this possible something with Regina was exciting, change had rarely treated her well.
"Emma?" Regina asked, her brows crinkled in concern as she deposited the wood to the center of their resting area. "Is everything alright?"
Emma took a deep breath and smiled, forcing herself to calm down. "Yeah, it is."
She walked closer to Emma, and started to reach for her arm, but dropped her hand at the last moment. "You seem tense."
"I have to take Henry back to New York," she blurted, thinning her lips. "When we free Merlin. It's not safe for him here," she defended.
Regina stiffened, and pulled her arms in front of her protectively. "Yes, I'm aware." Her eyes were dark, a little dangerous. "Surely that's not causing you grief."
"Are you coming with us?" she asked, not willing to beat around the bush with her.
Face softening in surprise, Regina dropped her arms. "What?"
Emma scratched at the back of her neck. "When we go back. Are you coming with us?"
"You," Regina schooled her expression, asking carefully, "are asking me to come back with you to New York?"
"Yeah," Emma kicked at the ground. "Henry has to get away from here, and obviously I'm going with him. And I assumed you wouldn't want to let him go again." Regina's eyes began to water, and Emma shifted nervously. "I don't know how we're gonna do it, I want us to do this—" she gestured between them, "whatever it is we're doing, to go slow. I mean, if that's what you want."
Regina swallowed deeply, and Emma thought that, maybe, that was a yes. "We clearly have stuff to work through, but I mean, it might as well be in a world without Giants and magical quests and whatever."
Emma took a step toward Regina, the woman not having said anything for too long, and she saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Is that—"
Regina sniffled, blinking back the emotion and shaking her head. Licking her lips she raised a brow, and tilted her head back a bit. "This isn't a game," she warned, and Emma shook her head. "I don't want—I won't go back to being less than you, with Henry," she said, standing tall.
Emma winced. "I know. I get that I…hurt you," she said with a little difficulty. "I thought I was doing the right thing," Regina sniffed. "And I don't regret trying to protect our son. Even if I went about it the wrong way."
Eyeing her, Regina nodded, accepting Emma's answer. "If I come back, we'll be equals?"
Emma smiled brightly at the word. "Partners," she agreed, and held out her hand. Regina took it tenderly, and as they stood together, hands clasped in promise. Emma's shoulders eased of the tension she'd been carrying. "But maybe you should do the cooking," she teased.
Regina laughed brilliantly, easily, like her soul was lighter. It might actually have been, in that moment. She was radiant, and Emma tugged her closer, dropping her hand to cup her jaw, and swooping in to lay a reverent kiss upon her lips.
Emma could taste her smile, their lips slotted together perfectly, mouths breathing the other in. It was the kiss of a new beginning; a second chance. Hopeful and energetic, but hearty with a shared history.
Regina's hands rested against Emma's stomach, fingers curling against the red leather Emma knew she would never admit to loving. Gently tugging on the back of Regina's neck she kissed her deeper, tongue searching for a promise of again. A promise of together, in this land or the next.
The thought was heady, and Emma walked Regina back, away from the camp and into the woods. "Where are we going?" Regina broke from Emma's lips, chest heaving.
Emma shook her head, taking her hand and walking farther away. "I don't know," Emma smiled, and turned past trees and boulders and brush until they were lost, secluded in their own slice of the forest.
"Henry," she started, gesturing back where they'd come from.
"Is hunting, with Snow. I just want you for a moment," she said, her voice falling shy as she realized her words.
Regina blushed prettily, and tossed her hair over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "I hope for more than a moment," she smirked, and Emma laughed, tugging her close and kissing her deeply.
In the silence of the woods their touches grew more daring, their breath coming shorter as they grasped at time, trying to make it last. Emma held Regina close, her hand buried again in the silky smoothness of her hair as the other teased at her hip. Her fingers pushed at the waist of her pants, tugging at the shirt there until it was sliding up, baring the sharp cut of her pelvis.
"Emma," Regina gasped, breaking from her lips, and tugging at the glove that prevented Emma from pressing warm fingers against the smooth flesh. The leather falling to the floor, Emma ran her nails over the strip of flesh bared above her waistline as Regina trembled.
"Your skin is like velvet," Emma murmured against her ear as she touched her stomach, flesh on flesh, finally. Regina's hands tugged at the zipper of her jacket, pulling it aside to bare the leather wrap vest beneath.
With a small sneer, she tugged at the vest, smiling triumphantly as it parted, and she could reach beneath Emma's loose tunic to run her hands along her spine. This time it was Emma who began to shake, her breath hitching as Regina ran her fingers up her back slowly, before walking her back toward the tree behind her.
Regina's eyes gleamed dangerously, as she brushed her palm over Emma's center through the pants. "Regina," Emma said, licking her lips. "Don't tease," she smiled lightly, her forehead wrinkling in concentration as Regina brushed against her again.
Chuckling low, Regina repeated the motion, and Emma was certain she could feel the heat coming off of her. She was slick, had been since their ride, and the need for Regina to touch her—for her to touch Regina right back—was too much. "You mean as you've been doing the past two hours?"
She leaned forward, and captured Emma's bottom lip with her teeth, gently applying pressure before letting the slippery flesh go. Emma pulled at Regina's jacket, so tight against her body that she was certain she would rip it before she got it undone. "Careful," Regina teased, the end of the word disappearing on a breath as Emma popped it open, and ran her thumbs over the underside of her breasts.
The fabric of her shirt was too thick of a barrier, she wanted Regina bare beneath her, but they didn't have all day.
At least, not right now. "When we get to New York," Emma said, eyes dark as she drew Regina's attention, "I want you. In every way imaginable. Bare against me, and for hours," she murmured, and spun them, pressing Regina back against the tree.
"I think I might be amenable to that," she smiled as Emma did the same, happy lips pressing hot kisses against her neck. Emma slipped her fingers over the waist of Regina's pants, and tugged, finally, until they were slung low on her hips.
Emma slid her hand over Regina's stomach, down lower and lower until she could feel slick heat beneath her fingers, the smell of Regina driving her crazy in the open air. Emma ran her other hand behind Regina's back, splaying her hand out to hold her steady as she slipped through her folds smoothly, barely grazing her clit.
"Em-ma," Regina warned, the threat lost as she gasped on the second syllable, and Emma smiled, leaning forward to whisper against her ear.
"You are stunning, like this," she said, swallowing the thick emotion that gripped her as Regina's eyes fluttered open.
Her hands tugged at Emma's body, pulling her forward to reach beneath the loosened fabric, and touch her however she could; her sides, her stomach, her breasts. Emma whimpered as Regina brushed hard nipples against the rough fabric of her bra.
"Oh," Regina bit out, her lips parting as her breaths started coming rapidly. Emma let go of Regina's back to step closer, place her thigh between Regina's as she tried to add pressure. Her thumb made tight circles on Regina's clit as she slipped two fingers into her heat, thrusting as Regina's fingers made bruises on her waist.
She was radiant: hair mussed from her position, head tilted back, lips parted. Her hips ground down furiously, searching for that sharpest bit of stimulation to send her over, and Emma reached up to brush the hair away from her face.
Regina's eyes fluttered open, her lashes dark and full, and Emma pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. She was completely captivated with her in that moment, and she cupped the back of Regina's neck, kissing her more deeply as Regina's back stiffened, and she tumbled over the edge.
As she came down from the climax, Emma pulled back, watching her face carefully. An unfettered smile broke across Regina's face, relaxed and happy. "I could watch you do that all day," Emma murmured, eyes hooded as she looked at Regina's face.
"Lose control?" Regina laughed low.
Emma shook her head, dipping forward to kiss her sweetly. "Smile," she murmured against her lips, smirking as her own faltered. Shifting the fingers that still pressed against Regina's slick entrance, Emma breathed in the scent of her as she let her head drop down to her neck.
"Emma," she said, the name breaking as her body stiffened. "'S too much," she begged, and Emma felt herself grow wetter at the sensitivity of the woman before her.
Regina pushed back at her hips gently, breathing slowly. Reluctantly Emma left the warmth between Regina's thighs, and brought her fingers to her lips, tasting the evidence of what she had wrought from the woman still trembling before her.
When Regina's eyes opened, again, her face was dark, dangerous. She looked ready to devour Emma, the thought sending a jolt down her spine as Regina pushed off from the tree and pulled Emma's hand to her own mouth, taking the last traces of herself back.
"Jesus, Regina," Emma breathed, eyes wide at the sight of her gorgeous lips wrapped around her skin. Her body tingled, nipples hardening impossibly further as Regina let go of her hand. She pushed at the red leather until it fell to the floor, followed by the black vest.
Emma's breath was coming faster, her chest heaving as Regina pushed the tunic over her head, baring her nearly naked chest to the forest air. Catching sight of the bruises on her hips, Regina licked her lips and looked up at her shyly. As her fingertips danced over the marred flesh, Regina murmured, "I'm sorry," but Emma shook her head.
"Please don't be. That might have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen," she confessed, suddenly shy as Regina turned her attention completely on her.
"Might be?" she teased, and pulled Emma close to her, their breath mingling as Emma's lips parted. "I suppose I'll have to work on that," she smirked, and reached behind her to tug at the clasp of Emma's bra.
It slipped off her shoulders as Regina's head dipped down, kissing her breasts gently, before taking a hardened peak between her teeth. She laved it with her tongue, her hand coming to stroke its twin as Emma gripped at Regina's shoulder, her fingers tangling in her hair as she held her close.
Her clit was throbbing, and Regina slipped her knee between Emma's, and she grinded herself down on the smooth thigh, needy and wanton, and so close to the edge. Regina released her breast with a last lick, and captured Emma's mouth beneath her own. The pressure was building ever higher in Emma's body, and when Regina pulled her closer, tugged on her hips harder as she moved her own pelvis in time with Emma's movements, she felt herself begin to unravel.
Her orgasm radiated across her body, her chest heaving as she came down, and she pressed her mouth greedily against Regina's, desperate for just one more taste, one more moment.
"Come," Regina said, smiling, and tugging on Emma's hips as she untangled her own.
"I just did," she laughed, opening her eyes as Regina pulled away to reach for her clothes.
"We have to get back," she quirked a brow, but her eyes were still dark, still in the moment her with Emma.
They dressed quickly, most of Regina's clothes still on, and Emma stole small glances at Regina as she pulled her bra and shirts back on.
"Hey," she stopped Regina as she was about to walk back. Regina turned, and Emma smoothed her hair down before reaching out and cupping her jaw. The bare thumb of her left hand ghosted over Regina's bottom lip before she stole a final kiss.
They walked back to the camp in silence, Emma tugging at her clothes to make sure they were in place before she entered the rest area. Snow and Henry sat beside a fire, meat cooking over it as he looked up. "I shot a bird!" he said proudly, smile stretching across his face.
"Woah, kid, that's pretty cool," Emma said easily, happy to slip back in without any awkwardness. She sat down across from them, holding out her hand to help Regina down beside her.
When she caught Snow's eyes, they were unreadable, brow slightly furrowed and her lips pursed. Emma made sure to rest her hands on her lap, putting space between her and Regina for the time being.
"Did you two have a nice walk?" she asked, looking at Regina, who simply raised a brow in return.
"It was fine," Emma said quickly, clearing her throat. Snow nodded, her face flickering in disappointment.
"Well, then. Let's eat so we can head back out," she said evenly, and Emma felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, not entirely sure why.