A/N: I've decided to take the curse and go in a slightly different direction with it. Or, well, the story decided that for me. There is no magic in our world, of course, but I don't think Regina would want to take all that power away from herself and be limited to only a mere magic apple obtained by using Jefferson's hat. That said, in my story Regina retained her magic when she brought everyone over to Storybrooke.

Something was wrong.

Regina paused during her careful application of her lipstick in the gilded mirror hanging on the wall, her lips a dangerous shade of red as she pursed them and stood still. A faint hint of magic filled the air, magic of a far different breed than her own. While the aura of her magic was dark and smoky, leaving fear and foreboding in its wake, this magic was light and airy, like a feather or the sound of laughter. Light magic. Nothing and no one in this world had magic save herself and if they did, the person she would suspect of having it would possess magic darker than her own, not light magic.

The answer was as clear to her as her own name and begun within her waves of hatred that she thought she had left behind in the Enchanted Forest. Snow White was not dead, as she had deluded herself into thinking in the weeks since the curse had been enacted.

She was, in fact, far from death. She had given birth to the Savior.

Slowly, Regina set down the tube of lipstick in her hand and fixed her eyes on the mirror. For a moment she saw only her own livid face staring back at her, but after a moment the glass began to ripple and fog over until it showed to her a familiar face. He smiled at her a cruel smile that she returned.

"What is it that you wish to see, Madam Mayor?" The mirror stretched out her new title mockingly.

She would waste no time playing his game. She narrowed her eyes. "Show me Snow White. And her little brat."

The first few days with Emma were rough.

Both mom and baby had to stay at the hospital, the name for this advanced infirmary, and nurses and doctors were constantly coming in and out. They checked on Snow and on Emma, poking and prodding and questioning. Did she have any pain? Was she feeling sad after the birth? Of course she was sad, sad that Charming wasn't there, but she didn't think that was what they were asking about, so she shook her head no for both questions.

The first few times Snow had woken to find Emma and her hospital crib gone, fear had seized her heart in its tight grip and she had panicked, repeatedly pressing the red button to call the nurse until someone came and explained to her that the nurses were only performing tests to make sure that Emma was healthy, and that her daughter would be returned to her shortly. Even still, Snow searched every one of their faces for any hint of Regina and her magic and relaxed only when Emma was safe and warm back in her arms.

Despite everything, though, Emma was an amazing baby. She slept most of the time, but when she was awake she rarely cried, nuzzling happily into her mother's arms, her warmth filling Snow's heart. Vicky and the girls fell in love with her at first sight, all taking turns holding her and cooing at her. The girls stroked her head of blonde curls and inquired after her father, eyes on Snow's own dark locks.

"Prince Charming's her dad, silly!" Katie chimed in playfully when Lauren asked and a sharp pang of longing struck sharply at Snow's breast. She forced a smile that she hoped didn't look as strained as it felt and nodded, not contradicting Katie and not wanting to talk about it.

Noticing the tension at the edge of her smile, Vicky shushed her younger daughter with a look. "Not all babies have the same hair color as their parents, you two should know that." She smiled apologetically at Snow. "They're being silly. I'm a redhead and their dad was a blonde and the two of them are as raven-haired as you."

Snow nodded. "It's okay. They're just curious." But she said no more. Though she understood their curiosity, she would not alleviate it. At least, not today.

Taking Emma from Lauren and carefully placing her into Snow's arms, Vicky ushered the girls out of the hospital room until she and Snow were alone, save baby Emma. "Are you okay?" Her voice was soft, as if she knew somehow that she was not at all okay, and tears began to pool in Snow's eyes at the question so tenderly asked.

Snow remained quiet until she was sure that her voice wouldn't break when she spoke. "Yes. I think so."

Vicky nodded after a moment and placed a hand gently on her shoulder before leaving the room. Snow watched her and the girls walk away until they reached the end of the sterile white hallway, and then turned her gaze toward the window. The green of leaves and grass and the bright colors of flowers greeted her, a welcome relief to the blankness that was the hospital. The colors and their warmth gave her the strength to begin speaking. Since she could not meet him, at least not yet, it was up to Snow to tell her daughter what a wonderful man her father was.

"Once Upon a Time," She began, recalling the words from Katie's book.