Author's Note: I mention a piece of music by Schubert called "The Erlking" or "Die Erlkonig". You've probably heard it in a Warner Bros cartoon at some point in your life, but if you want to check it out, and get the full feel of the scene, remove the spaces from the following URL and check it the English version.
www .youtube watch?v=vk_r-K1hmyc
I think it would make a wonderful song to play under Regina's most vile moments. It's from a German poem based on European folk lore about evil elven spirits that hunt people in their forest. The actual poem also makes an awesome simile of Emma/Henry/Regina story arc in the first season. Anyway, on with the show.
Chapter 5: Awakenings
The sound of violins dancing lyrically with coronets echoed through the austere white halls of the Mayor's mansion, but rather than bring warmth and life to the house, Bach's Brandenburg Concerto #2 simply made it feel that much more like a museum than a home. But it had been a dinner time ritual for as long as Henry could remember. It was only in the past year that he'd gotten old enough to realize that it was yet another attempt by his mother to create the façade of the warm hearth and home she'd never experienced growing up. He didn't wish her any harm even on his worst days; just the curse lifted. But he was afraid that she would leave the people of Storybrooke no choice. After all, the true heroes never killed their nemesis – the evil doer brought karmic justice from a higher power on to themselves. In his softer moments, Henry really did pity his adoptive mom and all the terrible things that had happened to make her who she was.
Today was not one of those days.
He absently stabbed at his asparagus, play acting his day dream of a battle between King Triton and the green tentacles of a kraken in a particularly lazy fashion. He rested his head in his left hand.
Regina narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't sulk. You're only ten, Henry. You can choose how you spend your time soon enough – when you're 18. Now each your vegetables."
Henry sighed, but did as he was told. "Can't we at least have some other music? I think I've heard Bach a million times."
Regina considered this for a moment. "Alright. I guess that's fair enough. What would you like me to play?"
Henry perked up immediately. "Emma played this-"
"Something classical," Regina snapped, immediately shutting down any Emma talk. "Classical is for your mind like vegetables are for your body." The boy's head had gone back to resting in the palm of his hand. "At least I let you put your elbows on the table. That's more than my mother ever let me get away with." This at least got him to glance up. Regina smiled, seeing that her latest tactic seemed to have worked. If she couldn't get him to forget the fairy tales, she would drop hints about that world; not so many breadcrumbs as to confirm his suspicions, but just enough to keep him talking to her and thinking he was the one milking information from her. A small voice from somewhere deep inside her shouted against using her son for her own means, but after nearly half a century of suppression it was a mere whisper, even at its loudest.
Henry couldn't help looking up at the tidbit of information his mother had just dropped, but then he saw her smile. He could swear she had the same expression on her face that the stray black and white cat had when peering into the mansion's koi pond. Whatever it meant, whatever she was thinking, he wasn't going to play along.
Regina tilted her head to one side. "C'mon, Henry. You can pick any classical music you like." She held up the mansion's universal home remote and waggled it enticingly.
Henry thought for a moment. "Um.. 'Peter and the Wolf'?"
Regina clenched her jaw. It was one thing to use Henry's obsession with fairy tales to her advantage, but she wasn't about to help him add more stories to his repertoire. "Honey. 'Peter and the Wolf' is for small children; you won't get any of the benefits of classical composition that I wasn't you to from such simple music. You're simply too old to be listening to that. How about Schubert's 'Erlking'? It has everything you like – a boy and his dad having an adventure, a spooky forest, magic…"
Henry furrowed his brow at this. "Isn't that the one that ends with the demon elf queen killing the dad and his son and evil winning?"
"She didn't win - only the boy died!" snapped Regina a bit too quickly. She looked down, concentrating on slicing a bite-sized piece of chicken from her plate. "And he's a king, not a queen. Well, that just proves that you haven't been keeping up with your music studies. 'Erlking' it is," she announced before typing in her selection.
A sinister sounding piano, playing high-pitched staccato notes, accompanied by violins mimicking the same sound, now filled the dining room. Another piano soon joined this, playing low syncopated triplets in imitation of a horse's galloping hooves. Henry shook his head in an almost imperceptible movement as he wondered how someone who had managed to trap an entire kingdom in another realm could be so incapable of realizing how she came off, sometimes.
Just as a voice rose above the symphony of piano and strings they were suddenly in silence – and darkness. The power had gone out, leaving their only lighting the flicker of candlelight from the dining room table. Regina sighed, exasperated. "Honestly, how on earth does that damned power company demand so much money, but can't keep a simple electrical grid online?" she muttered. "I'll just have to show them when happens when someone makes me mad." She placed her hands on the table edge in a motion to stand up.
"Mad? I'll show you mad," replied a man's voice from the darkness. Suddenly, a leather gloved hand reached out of the darkness from behind Henry, clapped itself over his mouth, and pulled him swiftly back into the darkness.
Regina slammed her fists on the table, sending a tea plate flying into the void. "If you give him back right this instant, I'll forget this ever happened," she snarled. She was met with nothing but the scuffling of sneakers on a hardwood floor. Regina shook her head. "Very well. Have it your way."She blew out the candles, eliminating the intruder's advantage, and reached for her mansion's custom universal remote.
Paige and Phoebe stepped away from the book as the pages began to flutter, as if the book were caught up in some kind of windstorm. Piper and Emma had only disappeared about 5 minutes before. A bright light emanated from the storybook illustration, soon resolving itself into a beam. And like that, Emma and Piper were back.
"Did it work?" asked Phoebe.
Piper nodded. "Mission accomplished."
Emma held up a swan-shaped glass vial which held a purplish-blue liquid. "One dose and she should remember everything," added Emma.
"How long were we gone?" asked Piper.
"Only a few minutes," replied Paige. "So we should have plenty of time to figure out our gameplan."
Emma nodded. "Good. Because suddenly all this… if I hadn't promised her, I might just take the easy way out and kick Regina's evil ass!"
"Uh, oh," said Paige. "I think the whole scope of everything just caught up with our savior here…"
"Don't call me that!" Emma snapped. She took a steadying breath. "Look, I told you it was coming. And now, it's here." She looked a little wild-eyed as her pupils darted back and forth. "Well, some of it anyway. I don't know how I'm supposed to do all this… how am I supposed to handle this?"
Though Emma was quite still, and her voice calm, Phoebe felt as if she'd been caught by surprise in a raging river of Emma's doubts and fears. They swirled and crashed against the metaphorical bars of the mental barrier she'd learned to create in her mind to separate her feelings from the emotion of those around her. She put her hands on Emma's shoulders, forcing the blonde to face her. "You believe in yourself, like your parents did. You're not alone in this, Emma. You have three very powerful witches, who know a thing or two about saving the world, by your side. And in a few minutes you're going to have your mother."
"I may have only met her for a few minutes, Emma, but she's clearly pistol," said Piper. "And an honorable, steadfast protector of her family. Which is you. Besides, you heard her yourself; she's already proud of you."
Emma frowned. "Yeah. That one did. The one who doesn't know me and whose only bond with me is the time she spent mourning for me. But what happens when we wake Mary up?" Emma shook her head.
"She'll still love you and be proud of you," replied Paige.
"You don't understand," replied Emma. "I'm no hero. I have a such a checkered past, you could use my rap sheet as a picnic blanket! And the way I've treated David…The only good thing I've contributed to this world has been Henry. Snow didn't know that. But Mary did. I feel like I'm about to step into the belly of the beast." Her face had taken on a slightly ruddy complexion as her emotions ran high.
"She'll still love you," replied Piper resolutely.
"I was a complete juvenile delinquent when my parents died," said Paige." And I spent every day after believing that they'd never know that deep down I wasn't that bad egg they raised as their own. That I'd turned it all around. Just like you have – well, unless you're a crooked Sheriff." Emma cracked a fleeting smile at this. "But thanks to magic, I got to see them again, and even if I'd known they were watching over me, I never would have believed that they knew the good person that I was inside even when I came home wasted for the tenth time… and now, magic is giving you at chance too."
"I was once on Mary's side of very similar situation. I met my grown son, from the future – don't ask – and didn't know who he was for a long time. There were times that I wanted to kill him, and I actually did kick him out of my life for a while. But when I found out he was my son, it suddenly didn't matter anymore. Because he was family, and I knew that whatever made him who he was, was part of me. The kind of mother I had been to him. That only became more true when I found out I hadn't been there for half his life." She sighed. "And if you still can't believe that she'll love you for everything you are, the good and the not so good, then trust your heart," added Piper. "Think about it. Is there anything Henry could do to make you love him any less?"
Emma sighed, "No. Of course not. But…"
"Just trust that, Emma. The woman I saw on that castle floor clearly loves you more than life itself," said Piper. The sound of someone approaching the apartment door closed off any further discussion . Paige quickly orbed the Book of Shadows back into Emma's room as Piper made a beeline for the stove with Emma. Piper tilted her head, and her face was softer than Emma would have expected. "You heard Snow. It has to come from you," said Piper. She picked up the teapot and lifted the lid. "You can do this. I promise."
Finally, Emma nodded resolutely, quickly uncorked the vial, and poured its contents into the cast-iron teapot, which was still at least half full with warm water. "God help me, I hope you're right."
The Charmed Ones scrambled to settle on the couch and look natural as Emma flipped the stove's burner on. It was not a moment too soon and the door swung open to reveal Mary, her hands a bit full carrying a couple generic pizza boxes and a plastic bag from the drug store. "Hey, you might want to check your phone Emma. I called to see what kind of toppings you all would like, but I got the strangest error message that stated you were outside the country." Phoebe hid her smile behind her hand.
"Oh, uh… yeah. I'll have to check on that."
After she'd placed the pizza boxes on the coffee table she popped open her new bottle of Excedrin and poured out a couple little white tablets and made her way over to her antique tea kettle. "So, I just got one pepperoni and one cheese. I hope that's okay for everybody!" The women nodded, oddly silent, once again giving Mary the distinct impression she was interrupting something. As she ladled a scoop of cocoa mix into a quirky little blue mug that resembled a bird, she shot a devious smirk at the women. "You were talking about me, were you?"
Paige gave a strangely staccato laugh that almost ended as a groan, which earned her a slap on the arm from Piper. "Don't mind her."
"Right. It's a, uh, blood sugar thing…" added Phoebe.
Mary laughed politely as she poured the steaming water from her kettle, into her mug and began to stir. "Riiight. All good I hope?" She crossed the room, to the couch.
Emma smirked in a way that she hoped looked jovial and nonchalant. "Just talking about how you seem to like to mother everyone," she teased.
"What can I say? It comes with being a teacher," replied Mary, but then returned a mirror version of Emma's expression. "Speaking of which – you look a little flushed, Em. You haven't been eating tuff with MSG in it again, have you?"
Emma was snapped back to self-consciousness at this observation. "You know… I don't know. It's possible."
Mary shook her head in playful frustration before presenting the headache relief pills to Phoebe. "Here you go."
"Huh?" said Phoebe. "Oh! Yeah, right. Thanks."
"You can wash it down with this," she said, offering the now potion-laced hot chocolate.
"Uh, no, I'm not really a fan of hot chocolate…" replied Phoebe. It was a bald-faced lie, of course.
"Have you tried it with cinnamon?" asked Mary.
"I'm allergic," added Phoebe quickly. "I'll just get myself some water." She got up and went to the kitchen. "But you go ahead and drink. No reason it should go to waste!"
Mary shrugged. "If you insist. What an awful allergy to have! Of course, it probably makes avoiding sweets easier, huh?"
"Ooh, yeah. Definitely,'' replied Phoebe, scratching the top of her nose in a manner only recognizably a red flag if lying for Phoebe.
Mary nodded politely, though, and absently sipped the potion-laced concoction. "This tastes a little funny," she remarked, making a face. "I hope my kettle isn't –" She abruptly fell silent and her expression went blank. It wasn't unlike when she'd been daydreaming earlier, except that a sudden realization seemed to be building in her.
The sisters and Emma, for their part were holding their breath eyes locked on Mary. "Do you think it's working?" asked Phoebe quietly.
Suddenly, Mary drew in a violent gasp, made to seem all the louder by the silent room. Her gaze, focusing on nothing, travelled down slowly, as if she were suddenly underwater, landing on the mug of hot chocolate in her hands. "Oh, it worked…" she answered in a daze, her lips left slightly parted as she forgotten to completely close her mouth. She blinked a few times before her head snapped up and she began to crane her neck around, scanning the room, only stopping when her eyes came to rest on Emma, who stood next to the coffee table, arms folded nervously. "It worked!" she exclaimed again, this time her voice filled with warm, joyous revelation, putting down her mug and jumping to her feet in one fluid motion. She spun around to face her long lost, and forgotten, daughter, her hands cupped over her mouth as if she were miming a surgical mask. She simply took her in, her brow furrowed as she blinked back tears. She took slow, heavy breaths and she shook her head. "Oh, God," she said quietly, muffled further by the hands over her mouth. "How could I have forgotten? Emma…" she shook her head again and swallowed hard, trying to calm herself.
Emma nodded silently in response, unconsciously clasping and unclasping her hands, where they hung at her waist. "It's okay…" She licked her lips and gave Mary a sad smile. "It's okay if you're disappointed, now that you know me. About… you know, my past and everything. I'll understand. You don't have to…"
Snow took an impulsive stride forward but then stopped herself short as she cried out. "Oh, God, Emma! No! I could never - how could you think such a thing?" Snow's hands dropped to mid air and her eyes darted back and forth, scanning every detail of Emma's face. She took another step toward her daughter, a journey across a distance that seemed massive, despite being so only halfway across their small living room.
Emma folded her arms across her stomach, hugging herself, and shrugged one shoulder. "You just seemed a little… you know, you're kind of a hugger. And you were hiding your expression behind your hands, so I just assumed… I don't know." Her chin quivered involuntarily for a moment and her lips pursed into a frown.
Snow took another couple steps forward, putting herself into reaching distance of her daughter now, and a determined look steeled her face. "Don't you ever think that," she said resolutely. "Never."
Emma tilted her head, a sad smile on her face. "Yes, Ma'am."
Snow raised her arms, but only leaned an incremental distance forward before stopping. She and Emma's usual supportive gesture was to simply cradle the other's fingers in their hands. "Is it okay if I...?" Emma simply nodded, as she no longer trusted a voice box that felt like it was caught in a vice. She was truly fighting the tears now, as warmth swelled in her chest and seemed to fill an empty hole in her heart.
Snow wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her closer before resting the side of her head against Emma's cheek. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," she explained softly into Emma's ear and then rested her chin on her daughter's shoulder. "My precious starling…" she whispered to no one in particular, simply relishing the pet name she'd only gotten to use once before. They may not have known each other relatively long, but it was the little kindnesses to her quirks, something simple as asking permission before invading her personal space that amazed Emma about this woman. Somehow, she always knew the right thing to say. Finally, without thinking about it, Emma unfolded the arms she still had wrapped around her abdomen and returned Snow's hug with her own fiery embrace. Even when neither knew it, the family bond had been there. A mother and daughter were truly reunited, no matter the bizarre circumstances.
Normally, Emma wasn't much of a hugger. She preferred to show her affections through deeds, rather than verbal declarations, cutesy nicknames, and sentimental displays of affection. It wasn't that she disliked it, of course, but the intimacy and vulnerability of those things… she'd learned a long time ago that few people could be trusted with her heart. Until Henry and Mary had come along, fostering a trusting relationship with another person took a long time, if it ever developed at all. Graham, for instance, had just begun to open those gates before he died, despite being a safe, lone wolf like herself. Henry had been easy. He was her child. But then there had been Mary Margaret. A woman whom Emma had believed she could trust with anything, even prior to finding out Mary was her mother. Now, she knew she could trust this woman with anything.
Neither knew how long they'd stood there when mother and daughter finally ended their embrace, pulling back into their more familiar posture of holding the other's hand. Snow studied Emma's face and shook her head. "This is all so strange…. I've lived a second lifetime, just as long as my real one, but it's as hazy as a dream upon waking," said Snow softly. "I have this whole other set of memories in my head, but they're full of holes. But my real life, 28 years ago… meeting you in what was to be your nursery… it's all so clear. Like it just happened yesterday, and this… this world is the dream." She cocked her head to one side and gave Emma gentle smile. "And it's mom, not ma'am, by the way."
Emma opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but shut it quickly and furrowed her brow.
"What is it?" asked Snow.
"I shouldn't," replied Emma, shaking her head.
"You should," Snow answered firmly. Emma still looked unsure, so Snow placed a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. "I'm not made of glass you know."
"I...," Emma glanced at a far wall for an instant before she gathered herself. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not there yet." She shook her head. "This is all too - I feel like I'm going crazy…" Emma sighed and her face took on a pleadingly apologetic tone. "I'm not ready for that yet. I mean, just yesterday, you were my roommate. My friend… I was just getting used to the idea of you being like," waved a hand about in the air. "You know, maybe the sister I never had. I mean, we're the same age for Christ's sake!" she exclaimed. "There aren't any rules for how this goes; how do we do this?" She gestured between herself and Snow. "Whatever this is! I mean..." She let out a frustrated huff."This… this isn't weird for you?"
Snow smiled sadly. "I understand Emma. Believe me, this is just as strange for me. The fuzzy memories I mentioned… Everything is a haze, one day blending into the other, not really living in any meaningful way, until one day this tough, determined blonde woman came into town. She was like no one I'd ever met before, but somehow so familiar at the same time. And she woke me up." She gave Emma a small, adoring smile, the warmth of it, was like nothing the 28 year old had ever felt directed at her in her life. She knew how to deal with scorn, or leers, but this kind of pure, guileless love was something she didn't know what to do with. When she was still Mary Margaret they'd been on even footing, in a friendship that ran deep as family, but it was a family that was chosen – not the kind one is born into, creating obligations based on blood alone. She'd never had that kind of relationship before, and before Henry came back into her life, had never understood how people could sacrifice their own happiness for people they didn't even like, simply because they were blood relatives.
Snow gently squeezed Emma's hands. "Everything becomes clear starting at the moment you came into town." She closed her eyes and images of those few fleeting moments with her newborn daughter flitted like ghosts behind her eyelids. "As much as I know, logically, you're my baby girl, I feel like it's only been months –not a lifetime- since I met both my darling little Emma and the one that gave me the gift of hope in my darkest hour. I never had the time to consider that when you'd come back to us, no real time would have passed for me. Without even realizing it, I'd assumed I'd be going grey, moving a little slower... not trading clothes and advice about guys." She shrugged, and the weight of it all could be seen in her shoulders." I don't know where we go from here and I don't know how we'll do it, but the one thing I do know is that we will do it as a family – because I'll be damned if another generation in this family is going to be robbed of them again," she declared, the fire in her eyes adding a punctuation that left no doubt that she meant every word. "You're the only blood family I have left, Emma, and I have to believe that it was that bond that drew us together… The rest will come." She wore a smile, clearly an attempt at reassuring Emma, but it didn't reach her eyes. The melancholy expression only made it all seem that much more unfair to Emma that whatever their relationship would become, whatever form their family bond took, the kind formed by learning of life at a parent's side would never be theirs. Nor would her parents ever know Emma the child, the unspoiled little girl that existed before the world had jaded her.
For the briefest of moments, both wondered what could have been, had Emma been allowed to grow up with her family, the life her parents had wished for her, instead of the life she'd been destined to lead. Would she have grown up a reluctant princess or a spoiled one? Knowing what she did from the storybook, she doubted the latter. Would the crown have weighed heavy as a Queen? Emma suddenly realized that she might still find out the answer to that, once the curse was broken, and that idea scared her even more than her coming battle with Regina. She knew how to fight – but to rule? Some half-remembered quote that a good king is a father to all his subjects, and she supposed the same could be said of a Queen. But she didn't even really know how to be a true mother to Henry, let alone an entire kingdom. It suddenly occurred to her that Mary, or Snow, had to be wrestling with the same thoughts. Hell, she'd had more time as a mother with Henry than Snow had had with her.
"I'm so sorry Emma… " said Snow, snapping Emma out of her reverie. "I promised you I would keep your heart in my safe keeping, and instead … I should have been with you, here, every step of the way, to shield you from life's injustices. – not as a zombie in this pointless limbo," she nearly spat the last in disgust – whether it was disgust with herself or Regina wasn't clear, even to Snow herself.
Emma placed her right hand over the hand Snow was resting on her shoulder and squeezed. "Don't you ever say that again... You did what you had to do - I saw what you were up against. If you hadn't let me go, Regina's guards would have killed me, or if I was lucky I'd still be an infant, with no hope of ever growing up. And I'd relive every awful day in the foster program before I'd choose an eternity as a perpetual infant. You gave me my best shot. You saved my life." She chuckled softly and raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Besides, you didn't exactly have a choice in that matter. If that were possible you can bet Henry wouldn't have been born behind bars. So, I think I can take the blame on that one. I've never really been much for depending on other people."
Snow smirked. "Even from the womb, apparently. And that trait is most certainly my fault. As James loves to point out, I can be a little headstrong." The pair shared a laugh.
"Speaking of…" said Emma, reaching down to her right knee high boot, and pulling something out. "Now that you're a little less indisposed, care to tell us how we're supposed to use this?" She held out James' dagger, presenting its intricately carved ebony hilt to Snow.
Snow took the dagger and turned it around in her hand. The apartment's warm lighting almost made the blade seem to glow. "It was an engagement gift from a close friend of ours."
"But if your kiss couldn't wake him up, how is some knife going to do it?"Emma asked.
Snow shook her head. "Only true love's kiss holds magic that powerful, and when my stepmother cursed us, she stole a piece of everyone; not just our memories, but a piece of our souls. And you can't truly, purely, love when you're not whole. I know that now, only because when I awoke, I realized a piece of me had been returned. A piece I didn't even know was missing."
Emma nodded. "Right… but it's still just a knife."
"It's not just any blade," replied Snow.
"It's an athame," answered Piper. Emma and Snow looked at her in surprise. They had been so caught up in the turbulent sea of emotions they were in that they'd forgotten they weren't alone. Snow looked especially surprised as the revelation of her true identity had given her such tunnel vision she hadn't even really seen the three other women. She smiled warmly at Piper in recognition. "It's you! Let me just say thank you for any and all you've done for Emma."
Piper nodded. "It's what we do. But, you're welcome."
"I'm in your debt, nonetheless," replied Snow. "Though I must admit, knowing what I now do about this world, how can it be that you have magic? Are you from another land as well?"
Piper shook her head. "Nope. I'm afraid the reports of no magic have been greatly exaggerated. It's just hidden here."
"Why is that?" asked Snow.
"Good question," replied Piper. "But if I were to guess, it probably has something to do with one too many witch hunts, and the tendency of people, mortals especially, to misuse it for personal gain. You know, Nostradamus, Rasputin, David Copperfield – that kind of thing."
Snow nodded. "I suppose that's wise. There are very few human magic users in my world that haven't been corrupted by their power. Perhaps none of this would have happened had that been the case for us." She shook her head in contemplation. "Well. No use dwelling on things we can't change."
"Right," interjected Emma. "So, what's an athame?"
"And enchanted blade," replied Snow.
"Or cursed," replied Piper. "You don't see many good guys using them around here, though."
"Yes, athames of 'blue' magic, or 'white ' as it's named here, are rare in my world as well," said Snow. "That's part of what makes this so special. This blade is infused with good magic spun by the Blue Fairy herself. You see these?" She ran a finger along the patterns engraved along the middle of the blade. "They're runic enchantments designed to pierce the impermeable."
"I know I'm new to this, but that doesn't sound like 'good' magic," said Emma. "Unless it's like a lightsaber, I guess."
"Most weapons aren't good or evil. It's the person who wields it that matters," said Snow. "And there could be no better master to this blade than James. It's infused with lupine blood."
"Huh?" asked Emma.
"Werewolf," answered Piper.
Snow nodded. "It was a gift from the person you know as Ruby."
"She's a werewolf? I thought the wolf ate little red riding hood," said Piper. "Hell, I've been eaten by the big bad wolf."
"You'll have to tell me that story some time," replied Snow. "But I believe the version you're familiar with is meant as a metaphor. You see, the lupine blood in her human veins consumes her body and mind during the full moon. After all, how could a wolf swallow a person whole, let alone that person surviving to tell the tale."
Piper shrugged. "I just blew him up from the inside. It's magic, it doesn't have to make any kind of normal sense."
Snow boggled at her. "Now I must insist you tell me that story once this is all through!"
"This is all well and good, but what does that have to do with waking David up?" asked Emma.
"An athame is tied to its owner's essence. If it went through the portal, thus escaping the curse, its magic should be intact. It should still hold the magical bond with him," answered Phoebe.
Emma nodded. "Ok, so let's go wake him up."
Snow shook her head. "No… not yet. As much as my heart aches to rescue him… we can't. Not yet."
"Why not?" asked Piper.
"Because, for all the wonderful traits my James has, he's fiercely loyal – to the point of recklessness. I know him, and I know that the moment he wakes up he's going to leap in headlong without thinking about the consequences. We need to build our forces before we wake him." Snow's eyes were a little watery and shadows of the pain of her self-sacrificial decision danced in her eyes.
"So, who, then? I can't say I've seen a lot of gladiator types wandering around Storybrooke," said Emma.
"The most loyal, courageous, and deadly of all my court. And my closest friend. Red," declared Snow.
"And then, who? Granny?" replied Phoebe with a chuckle.
Piper cocked her head to one side. "Don't let Grams ever hear you say that…"
Snow slid the dagger back into its sheath. "Yes, actually. She may not be much of a fighter any more, but her wisdom is not an asset to be taken lightly – especially not in the nature of war we now face. A lifetime of keeping her family's secret has honed her instincts when it comes to strategy, planning, and subterfuge. And, unless we you know otherwise, we don't know what the consequences of breaking Red free from the curse will be, in regards to her… condition. The possibility that Red may transform with the moon once awoken is a very real concern, if magic does indeed exist in this world. But with Granny around, it will be a much more calculated risk. In any case, Charming's dagger should wake Red, being that it was forged in her blood. I just hope Red will have an idea as to how to wake Granny."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Paige, drawing Snow's attention for the first time.
Snow did a double take before taking a couple steps in her direction. "It's uncanny," she said to no one in particular. "No wonder you looked so familiar…"
Paige cocked her head back reflexively. "Uh… Piper, I think that elixir might be having some side-effects on Snow, here."
Snow shook her head. "No, no. I'm fine. It's just that you look exactly like –" She was interrupted by the ringing of Emma's cell phone, and all eyes were now on the blonde.
"It's Regina," she announced, the irritation evident in her voice. She sighed. "Emma, here."
Regina's side of the conversation was hard to make out, but Regina's agitation was clear. Emma, for her part, looked worried, then angry, then resolute. "I'll be right there." She hung up. "There was a break-in at the mayor's mansion."
"As in the evil queen kind of mayor?" asked Paige.
"Is Henry okay?" asked Snow.
Emma nodded. "Thankfully. Regina's got the guy trapped, but I need to go pick him up. Which is weird – she's never asked if I'd like to see him, let alone asking me to take care of him overnight."
"Now if we only knew if it was a trap or not," said Snow.
"Only one way to find out," replied Paige.
"And that's to go," finished Emma. The pair shared a nod of agreement.
"But what if Regina is using this as a way to break in here again, knowing full well that we're not home?" reasoned Snow.
"She's right," replied Piper. "Someone should stay here."
"I'll stay," Snow volunteered. "To be honest, I'm trying to juggle two different lifetimes worth of memories. And if I see Regina, I'm not sure I can be accountable for my actions – one murder trial is enough for me." There was a fire in her belly that Emma hadn't really gotten to see before and she suddenly realized that while Mary Margaret had been a very particular part of Snow, but not the legendary princess herself. "I need more time to… sort out the jumble of memories in my head before I confront her."
"Then I'm staying as well. She'll need protection if the mayor sends her flying monkeys this way," said Piper. "Paige can get in and out fast, and Phoebe might be able to pick up a vision."
Paige nodded and took Phoebe's hand. "This is a great chance to find out what's in that mausoleum you mentioned. We'll be glamoured- that's magically disguised - just in case." She turned to Emma. "Just keep Regina away from the area. We'll do the rest."
"No problem," replied Emma as she shrugged on her red leather jacket. "It's about time I get the upper hand over her." She took her keys the kitchen table and shoved them into her pocket. "I can drop you two off a few blocks away from the property's gates. There's no way that compound isn't under more surveillance than the White House."
"No need," replied Paige brightly. "Just remember to call out my name, and concentrate on directing it to me if you need help. We can be there in a flash, no matter what."
"What, you got a transporter?" asked Emma
"Something like that," said Paige, a devilish smile on her face.
Emma gave her a puzzled look which promptly fell into befuddlement as she watched the two women dissolve into a million little orbs of bluish-white lights.
Snow simply looked fascinated. "Are you sure you're not using fairy magic?"
Piper shook her head. "Not the last time I checked."
"I – I-" Emma shook her head. "I should be going." She turned on her boot heel and quickly made her way out the door. "Nest I'll be following bits of breadcrumbs to find my way to the lolliop guild so I can raise a munchkin army…" she muttered under her breath as the front door swung closed behind her.
Snow watched her daughter go, her visage a muddy brew of hope, concern, and bittersweet mirth. Piper had stood up by this point and sidled up next to Snow. "If I can come around to this kind of thing, she will too. I can't guarantee she'll be happy with it, though."
Snow sighed. "She shouldn't have had to. If I'd just said 'the hell with it' and stepped into that wardrobe, contractions and all, I could have been there. It wouldn't have been easy, but it would have been better than all the sadness's she'd had to suffer," replied Snow quietly, her eyes still on the closed door.
Piper nodded. "Destiny is a bitch. Unfortunately, she always gets her way. As corny as it sound, you just have to trust that it's for the greater good – for that happy ending." She gently placed a hand on Snow's shoulder. "And remember that we do as much as we can as mothers, but sometimes there's nothing we can do."
Snow met Piper's eyes with her own. "That's the worst part of all. I didn't want to say so in front of Emma, but… I'm not a mother. Not really. And I can barely remember my own mother. I don't know the first thing about what it means to be a mother to a grown woman…"
"Just trust your feelings. Let your heart guide you. You love her, don't you?" asked Piper.
"So much it hurts," replied Snow. "But it's like…" She shook her head.
"Wanting to dance, but not knowing the steps?" asked Piper.
Emma nodded. "How did you know?"
"It's a long story. Let's just say it's a bit of a family tradition."
"We've got time," replied Snow.
Piper sighed, her eyes taking on a distant focus. "Well… it all started when this young man named Chris appeared in our attic..."
Next Time: Piper gives Snow some motherly advice. Emma confronts Jefferson, and Paige and Phoebe find more than they expected.