Regina's asleep beside her, head tucked against Emma's side and an arm flung over her stomach as Emma combs her fingers through her hair, smoothing it out from the disarray she'd created earlier. They're in Emma's room for a change, having been distracted half through a midday clothing run and probably missing the bulk of the day with Henry and Snow.
Well, actually Henry had been talking about going riding this afternoon, so Regina had probably missed nothing but a few hours avoiding the stables, and Emma can't say she's sorry to have joined her. And she isn't entirely sure that this hadn't been intentional on Regina's part, come to think of it. Why else had Regina joined her and then hurled her against her door with magic and attacked, if not to force company to a lonely day?
Which is completely unnecessary since Emma's still not a fan of horses and horses are even less a fan of hers, and she would have played hooky in a moment if Regina had beckoned even less violently. She brushes an affectionate kiss to the top of Regina's head, rolling her eyes at her own thoughts, and shifts when the queen rolls over nearly to the edge of her narrow bed, careful that neither of them fall to the ground.
When she peers out the window beside the bed, she can see Henry, a tiny figure below, his horse cantering out into the furthest fields around the castle as Snow watches from afar. She's distracted by a few songbirds, one of whom is perched on her shoulder; and when Emma squints she can see the red-clad figure in the woods just beyond the castle grounds, out of Snow's reach but not too far for the bird that returns to her.
Snow straightens, glancing at Henry before she raises her gaze up to the castle, and Emma ducks before her friend catches her state of undress and figures out exactly why she hasn't met up with them today. It's one thing for Snow to know that she's sleeping with Regina, but it's something entirely different to have her confronted with visual evidence and Emma isn't nearly as cruel or sadistic as the woman beside her might be.
As though roused by her thoughts, Regina shifts again and soon there are possessive arms sliding around Emma's waist and lips pressed to the side of her neck, replaced impatiently by teeth nipping when Emma doesn't react to the other woman's presence. "Hi," she says obligingly, tilting her head to give Regina more access.
"Watching our son?" Regina murmurs against her skin. "How is he riding today?"
"Better than I ever could," Emma tucks her own arms under Regina's, winding her fingers between the other woman's.
Regina pounces, flipping them around onto the bed and they both tumble off as Emma twists in her arms, straddling her when they hit the floor. She smirks smugly at her lover and Regina exhales, "Well, I wouldn't say that," as she pulls Emma down for a kiss.
They barely make it downstairs in time for dinner, and Henry watches their descent together from his vantage point under Prince Charming's statue with a considering eye.
She's worn out enough by then that dropping by Regina's room isn't her first consideration after Henry heads to bed, and instead she makes her way to the library, glancing through a book of what are undoubtedly spells. Regina isn't going to teach her magic and she does understand why, but in this world where Rumpelstiltskin is leading a resistance against the Evil Queen from Snow White, she'd like to have a little more leverage than some basic sword fighting skills.
Magic. It's still a headache to think about, even now after months in a world she's beginning to think of as home. Magic would have been nice when she'd been little and dreaming of superheroes and having the power to choose her own destiny. Magic would have made sense back then. But after twenty-eight years spent discovering that there'd been no magic in her life, no secret path to family and love and her childish dreams, it seems nearly unfair to find it now, shining its beacon through the grit of the real world that surrounds Storybrooke, Maine. To know that it's been within her all along, and only Regina has drawn it forth.
When she stares down, the words on the page blurring under her unfocused eyes, she can almost feel it burning inside her, inviting release with her building frustration and bursting outward into something very nearly toxic. She coughs out the energy, a spark of something, bright and surging and powerful, emerging from her palms and the book catches fire in her hands.
"Dammit!" She drops it, stomping on the white flames that are rippling across the pages with no success. "Water, water…" Too late, she remembers the glass that Henry had been drinking from earlier at the table by his computer, and she grabs it and upturns it over the book just as the flames meet at the center of the text and the whole thing crumbles into ash.
Crap. There's a congealed mess of water and ash absorbing into one of the library's expensive-looking rugs, and Emma has no idea how she's supposed to clean it without making her magic-induced mishap even worse. She scowls at her hands for a moment, considering whether it'd be worth it to try magic again, but that would be stupider than even Regina would expect of her, and she finally settles on moving the chair she'd been sitting on to a spot covering the book's remains. At least it'll buy her some time.
"I can call someone to clean that up, Emma."
Emma jumps, but the voice is gently amused and not irritated at all and thusly clearly not Regina. "Snow!"
Snow's head is slightly tilted, her brow furrowed in bemusement. "What happened, anyway?"
Emma winces, twisting her hands against her waist. "I kind of have some magic. It isn't working out very well."
Snow's eyes round and she stares at Emma, then drags her eyes down to where the carpet is still dark, poking out under Emma's chair. "Is that…a person?"
Emma laughs, which is probably not a great idea considering how Snow is suddenly looking at her like she's a moment away from stealing her heart. "What? No, don't be ridiculous!" She sinks down into the chair, tucking a leg under her and waiting until Snow takes a seat opposite. "Just a book. I don't think I've got the hang of magic just yet."
"Does Regina know about you?" Snow's hands are suddenly wrapped around hers and she's inspecting her, eyes running over her face and arms and torso as though she'd be able to see Regina's wrath displayed on Emma. "Has she tried hurting you?" She lowers her voice, her hands trembling, and Emma's uncomfortable with the gesture but squeezes Snow's fingers awkwardly anyway. "Has she tried training you?"
Emma meets her gaze, half-upturning her lips into a smile that seems to calm Snow not at all. "No," she repeats, lowering their joined hands to Snow's lap before she reclaims her own. "Trust me, she's just as worried about me turning into her as you are."
"Oh. Oh." Snow's head jerks up and she stares at Emma, her eyes wide. "Really?"
"Too much competition," Emma says flippantly, shrugging it off. She had wondered that after Regina's refusal and had continued to wonder it even after the queen's admission, truth be told. There must be some part of Regina that would rather cling to magic and keep it as her own, and she can couch it in selfless reasons about protecting Emma from that corruption but Emma's just cynical enough to look for underlying motivations.
But Snow's shaking her head slowly, a knowing, sad smile on her face. "I don't think so. I think…" Her voice trails off and she sits in silence, studying Emma's face with eyes that are seeing something else entirely.
Emma squirms under her scrutiny, searching for something else to say to distract her friend. "I saw you got a message from Red today."
Snow looks startled. "Oh! How did you-" She stops, sheepish as she admits, "I did. She told me about your outing yesterday."
"Yeah?" She wonders what it is that Red might have said, about how Regina baited her or how Henry is a good kid or how Emma had spent much too much time staring at Regina across the table. Hopefully not that last bit, though it's probably a lost cause hiding the extent of their relationship from Snow.
Snow leans back, staring out of stained glass windows over Emma's shoulder. "I think…I think I spent so long as a child, so long as an adult, struggling to find the person I knew Regina could be. And I failed every time. She failed every time," she corrects herself, frowning. "She didn't want to see good in herself and I think she was terrified of facing it when vengeance was so much simpler. And now we're here." She waves her hand around, gesturing to their surroundings.
Her gaze turns back to Emma, thoughtful and a little wet. "And of course you're the one to…to save her. I thought you might be-" She cuts herself off. "You're forcing Regina to be the person she was, to be good, and I don't know how much of her is left anymore."
A weight settles over Emma's heart, a heavy responsibility she's never wanted that Snow is passing over so freely. "No. I'm not." She can't do that, she can't be Regina's conscience or her guide. She's already too attached to someone who's going to let her down. She's going to let Regina down, if the other woman depends on her. It can't be about her. "That's Henry, you know that. It's all about-"
Snow's hand is back on hers, firm and immovable. "Emma, how do you feel about Regina?"
She doesn't respond, the weight on her heart growing heavier still. Snow doesn't seem to expect any answer. "She isn't what I'd want for you," she says, and there's pain in her voice, sorrow that she can't quite hide from Emma. "Not in a thousand years. But I think you're just what I would have wanted for her, once upon a time."
"I'm working with the resistance," Emma blurts out.
It isn't what she's meant to say, isn't something she's wanted to involve Snow in at all, but Snow's blind faith in her- in her rightness for Regina, in how somehow she's going to be good for Regina, in how she's supposed to be the good guy- is enough to make her want to shake foundations, to admit just how much more complicated this relationship is than Regina being healed by some kind of loving faith. "The resistance that's aiming to kill Regina. Rumpelstiltskin and Jefferson and the royals. And they're probably right to try."
She expects Snow to sigh and agree that it's for the best, she expects Snow to reprove her for what will probably make Regina kill them all if she finds out, she expects Snow to tell her that she wants to help too. She doesn't expect Snow to slump in her chair and ask her, "Has Regina told you why I'm the only one she trusts with Henry?"
"N-no?" She's a little taken aback at the change of subject. "I try not to bring you up around Regina too much. She still gets that look in her eye like she's considering the best way to flay someone alive."
Snow laughs softly. "I'm familiar with it." She sighs. "Henry changed things. Not just Regina, everyone. Time stood still until Henry. Every day had been the same, again and again and again for so many years that we all lost track of time. I'd been in prison." She smiles wryly. "Regina had locked me up and come down a few times to gloat, but I proved a less than entertaining audience for her, I suppose. You can't cry every day for twenty years, not even for lost love or evil's reign. You learn to cope." Emma winces, adding Snow's life to the mental laundry list of reasons why Regina is terrible. It's surprisingly unhelpful when she's around the queen.
"And then this new element was introduced to the castle, this little boy Rumpelstiltskin had procured for Regina, and suddenly, time started creaking along then. For a long time, I'd thought it had just been because of someone different. Now I know better."
"What do you mean?" Emma asks, but Snow waves away the question.
"The resistance formed around then, as people finally began to realize the extent of their exodus from our kingdom. It hadn't been difficult to find people willing to revolt- I think it must have been the bulk of the kingdom by the end. They'd taken advantage of Regina's distraction with her child to send in agents to the castle. A caretaker for Henry, a guard for my cell…" She shivers. "I was out before Henry's first birthday."
"I guess it didn't last."
Snow doesn't look too sorry about it. "They'd kept me hidden underground, far from where Regina could find me, and that's how I found out what their other goal had been- the one that hadn't been shared with everyone, that was far less noble than freeing their rightful queen."
And Emma knows where this is going, should have asked more questions about it all along, because the kid is out of his mother's sight all the time and why would the resistance have waited until now to take advantage of that? "Henry."
"Henry," Snow agrees. "Regina was mad with worry and incapacitated by the threats they'd made to him if she left her castle. Guards combed the streets, but didn't dare hurt anyone and set off Henry's captors. And I found a tiny little boy beaten and half-starved and too terrified to cry locked in a room just down the hall from mine."
"Oh, my god." She'd given up Henry so he could have his best chance. So he could be loved and taken care of and safe, safer than he'd ever be with her. And less than a year later, he'd been in dire straits and she'd never known. He'd been a baby, helpless, a victim for no reason other than his mother, and for a moment she hates Regina as much as she does the town, hates everyone here for taking a child who'd never done anything wrong and letting him suffer for their ends.
She can't breathe, she can't cry, she can't do anything but fight the urge to run to his bedroom immediately or choke out, "What did you do?"
Snow shrugs helplessly. "What else could I do? I wanted to be free, but not at this cost. Not when an innocent would suffer so much for it. I still remembered my own baby, how I'd had to surrender her and never knew how much she'd suffer-" She's crying now, tears spilling from her eyes and dripping onto Emma's hand that she's still clutching in her own. "I couldn't do that to Henry. I couldn't even do that to Regina, even though she'd taken my daughter from me.
"So I waited until nightfall, had Red come help me, and we freed Henry and brought him back. I didn't let Red into the castle. I thought Regina would lock me up again, and I didn't want to doom her to that too. I smuggled Henry into the castle and went up to Regina's room and…" She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "And Regina hugged me." She grins through her tears. "She also told me she was going to kill me slowly and painfully for letting Henry get hurt, but she was too distracted by him to do much of anything to me.
"Next thing I knew, I'd been given a bedroom near his and been informed that I would be his fulltime tutor. The Huntsman and I were the only ones charged with his care, and we were never to leave him alone."
Emma exhales. "Good."
"She used to march me past Charming every day, to find reasons to get me into the main hall. Eventually, she must have realized that I was drawing strength from him instead of despairing, as she'd hoped, and after that she stopped tormenting me altogether." Snow curls her hand around Emma's. "And that was that."
"And the resistance?" Had they really been trying and failing all this time? She can't stop the relief that bubbles up at the idea that she might not have to work with them to hurt Regina after all. Maybe they really are all talk and a few botched attempts from time to time.
"They disbanded," Snow says simply. "Regina executed the people who'd taken Henry and me and I think so many people were so ashamed of what had happened- that they'd done something so despicable that I couldn't even stay with them- that most of the kingdom never tried organizing again. There's been the odd attempt on the castle from time to time. You remember Gretel? But otherwise, there haven't been any concerted resistance attempts since, from what I know." She shakes her head. "I don't know what could have prompted them to begin forming again."
Emma remembers Belle, remembers that she'd only been found a few months before Emma had arrived, and she thinks she knows what has motivated Rumpelstiltskin now to overthrow Regina. She fights a wave of nausea, remembering her last meeting with them, and how her plea for Henry's safety had been received. These people had been the ones who'd gone after Henry to begin with, she's certain, and they're the ones she's thrown in her lot with. "I can't go back there," she whispers, and is it that easy, to find another villain worse than Regina and choose to settle with the lesser evil? Is this how her conscience can be assuaged?
It doesn't feel like it. It feels like compromising her values so she won't have to face the idea of betraying Regina, so she can live in luxury with the happy family she's been longing for her whole life. So she can stop thinking about overthrowing a queen she's more than fond of. And it's the fact that Regina is foremost in her mind alongside her concerns for Henry that only serves to make her excuses more transparent.
But Snow is shaking her head in disagreement. "No, I think you have to. You need to make sure that they never decide to hurt Henry again." She studies Emma's face, reading it as easily as a book. "I know you run the risk of hurting Regina in more than one way, but Henry has to come first."
That isn't a question. "Of course." She will always put Henry first- always has, even when it meant giving him to someone else forever- and Regina can't figure into that equation. And knowing what she does now about the resistance, she's sure that Regina would make the same decision in her shoes.
Still, though, she can't rid herself of thoughts of Regina. Regina alone in the castle, imprisoned by her terror for her son. Regina killing plenty of people in cold blood for what they might have done to Henry. Regina embracing Snow for bringing back her son.
Regina earlier that day, curled into her with a face at peace in slumber, free of the stresses and hatred that she bears like a burden across her visage each day.
She stays with Snow for a while longer before she excuses herself and hurries down the hall, pushing Regina's door open and peeking inside. The queen is asleep on her bed, off to the left side with a space empty on the right half of the mattress. It's where Emma normally sleeps, and she feels herself choke up at the sight of it.
She's doing the right thing; she has to be, and she strips off her clothes and burrows under the covers beside Regina. The other woman turns toward her and Emma wraps trembling arms around her, and she's warmer than the flames that lick at each other and shiver in the fireplace across the room.