A/N: Super short chapter this week, but I feel this scene is poignant enough to stand on its own. Enjoy!
A Gambit in Trust
Regina IV
Regina traced her finger along the black marble, and left a trail of engraved stone in her wake. The magic flowed out of her at a steady, pulsing rhythm as Regina constructed each letter with painstaking care. Within minutes she let out a breath as "CORA MILLS" was chipped out of the stone in bold, blocky text. The grey rock beneath the glossed cover stone offered a stark contrast.
With a frown, she waved her hand over the letters and their color morphed into a muted gold. The name only took up the upper third of the three foot block of stone that was to serve as her mother's grave marker, and Regina hesitated as she studied the blank space beneath. Her reflection glared back at her, and Regina looked away.
What could she possibly put there? Devoted wife, loving mother, loyal friend? A cracking sound that passed for a laugh bubbled out of Regina's throat. She would not lie for the woman in death, but carving the truth of who her mother was into stone would felt like it would be petty. A teenager's passive aggressive revenge against the authority figure that held them back.
Still, the words came to her mind. Master manipulator, seeker of power, stealer of hearts, mistress of the dark arts... She sank to the cold, freshly packed dirt and sat, oddly amused at her polite choice of insults. Some mental block prevented her from acknowledging the depths of her mother's worst traits.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In passing, Dr. Hopper had once offered her the advice of not letting herself internalize her emotions. That it would be better to acknowledge them, deal with the consequences, and move on. At the time she had snapped at him and advised him to keep his psychoanalysis limited to his office, but it had been several days.
And she knew something still wasn't right in her head. Not when it came to Cora Mills.
It felt ironic to have to work through it this way. Her clever, sweet boy had convinced her to confront her own fears under the guise of conquering his own. She had been ready to begin to seek closure, but instead would have the memory of Henry's horrified expression burned into her memory for the rest of her life.
Why had she let him bound ahead of her? Her hands dug into the earth, but she caught her frustration and tried to breathe it away. Her fingers unclenched slowly and she laid her palms flat against the ground.
Finding Cora tied down, glassy eyes wide, and mouth forever locked open in a silent roar of fury had frozen Regina in place for single heartbeat. She remembered racing through disbelief, surprise, anger, relief, guilt, and frustration before wanting to fly into a rage of her own, track down whomever was responsible, and end them.
Painfully.
But Henry's scream had grounded her, and something in her head had clicked. She was able to get to a state of mind that let her deal with the situation at hand without devolving into a complete mess. After pulling Henry away from the scene, the faux detachment had not left her as the rest of the day blurred by.
Getting help for Ratched and the asylum's janitor. Calling in the cavalry. Charming and Ruby showing up to process the scene. Whale sending one of his underlings to collect the body as one his patients made a "miraculous recovery." Charming's promise that they would figure this out with his awkward attempts to offer comfort. Henry wanting to stay with her that night. Keeping a brave face for her son so he would not worry more than he already did.
Ignoring Emma's calls. Finding solace in cider…
She shook her head to bring herself back to the present. The moment Whale released the body, she had raced to the hospital to claim it and put her mother to rest. She hoped the finality of it would bring her the closure she knew she needed, but she could not find that torrent of energetic emotions that had initially taken her.
She just felt tired. Strained. Stretched to the point where she feared she would snap back and crumple under the pressure.
"I thought I'd find you in your mausoleum thing," Emma Swan spoke from somewhere behind her, and Regina bowed her head, resigned to the fact she would not be alone this evening. Leaves crunched as the blonde approached and Regina spared her a glance over her shoulder. Dressed in simple boots, jeans, and her red leather jacket bound over a charcoal scarf, Regina almost felt nostalgia for the night they met.
The steaming styrofoam cups she held in her gloved hands would be a welcome sight as well in different circumstances.
"Sheriff," she said without moving to get up.
"No badge," she said, tapping her hip with the bottom of a cup. "Still off duty." Emma offered one of the cups down to her, the threat of a smile twitching on the corner of her lips. Her cheeks were flushed with cold and her breaths came in a quick rhythm as if she'd been walking for a long while.
Regina studied the cup in the woman's extended hand, frowning, and turned her attention away. "I don't need a babysitter, Miss Swan." She crossed her arms over her knees and stared at the blank space on her mother's grave. Emma sat next to her with a sigh, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on open knees.
"Didn't think you did." She sipped at one of the coffees, humming her appreciation. "But you shouldn't be alone."
Her nostrils flared and Regina tried to keep her patience. "I am not going to go dark on a blind quest for revenge." She went for irritated sarcasm and ended up with tired monotone. "You don't have to protect anyone from me. Not today."
"Regina," Emma said with a hint of rebuke. "That's not what I meant, and some part of you has to know that. I know you're not going to go on a rampage." She let out a humorless huff of a laugh. "But this situation's weird. And confusing. And messy. And I thought you could use someone to…. I don't know, help?"
Regina sighed and bowed her head to rest her forehead on her crossed arms. Her jacket was cool and soothing. "I don't need help to mourn my mother."
"I know you don't need it," Emma said. "I know you are strong enough to handle this on your own, but I thought you might want a friend around anyway."
She could not prevent the scoff from sounding before she spoke. "You think we are friends?" She turned her head to cast an incredulous glance toward the woman, hair falling in her eyes.
Emma seemed taken aback. "Well… yeah?" Her eyes bored into Regina's, gaining an edge and intensity the former mayor had not expected. "I mean, I know it's almost crazy after everything, but we've had each other's backs now for weeks, Regina."
Versus months of antagonism, Regina's sardonic thought came unbidden, but Emma continued on before she could voice it.
"The circumstances weren't the best, but we managed not to kill each other." She made good on her earlier threat as she gave Regina a small grin. "And it turns out you're not awful company. You're just…" She trailed off, seeming to choose her words. "Easy to talk to, I guess. I figured you might feel the same."
She held out the cup again, the steam rising out of the lid both enticing Regina with the promise of warmth and threatening the possibility of an actual, human, bond outside of her son.
Regina did not know why she hesitated, but she found herself staring at the offered beverage for long seconds without moving. Emma just sat, patient and smiling, waiting on an answer. Regina had accepted Kathryn's renewed friendship without much concern or scrutiny, and whatever gave her pause now escaped her grasp, slipping through her fingers before she could figure out the answer.
The closest to the truth she could come up with was that this felt like it would be a truer risk.
She turned away from Emma's offered hand, looking back to the blank space beneath her mother's name. The woman had never thought well on Regina's choice in companions. From the time she was a young child until the tragedy with Daniel, Cora had always imposed her will on every relationship Regina tried to nurture. Even after Regina had banished her, Cora's specter would loom, ever present, tinging every decision Regina would make in some shape or form.
But now the woman was gone. Well and truly gone.
And Regina realized the most prominent of the emotions she felt was relief. As awful as that was. Beyond the initial panic and aggression, before the well of grief and regret she knew lurked beneath the surface, Regina found herself enjoying the release from a constant pressure she had not realized she still carried around.
She reached out to her side and took the cup from Emma, bringing it to her lips and tasting chocolate instead of the bitter warmth of coffee. She let out a sighing laugh.
"You are such a child."
She heard the smile in Emma's voice. "Nothing's better this time of year than hot chocolate." The warmth of it spread from her stomach through the rest her, the cloying sweetness of it sat on Regina's tongue. She took another sip and did not speak, allowing herself the beginnings of a grin.
Seconds dragged into minutes and they sat in silence. The small cheer Regina had built ebbed away into the somber reality of the day. Regina saw Emma fidgeting with the grass out of the corner of her eye, and reasoned they could not just sit there in silence forever.
"I chose this spot," she said to answer Emma's initial question. "Because it's so far away from the mausoleum." She felt Emma's eyes turn toward her, but Regina did not look to meet them. The prospect of opening up, even such a small amount was difficult enough without looking the other woman to see her reaction. "That is my father's final resting place, and my mother..." She glared at the engraved name for a moment. "Does not deserve the chance to interrupt that."
"I don't think I've ever heard you mention your father before, even through all of this," Emma said with a hint of hesitation. She suspected she was treading on dangerous ground, Regina surmised, but that did not stop the sheriff from pressing on. "Were you two close?"
The warmth of his heart turning to ashen dust in her fingers came to her as a memory that felt near tangible. Her fist closed over open air. "Yes. My father... Gave everything for me." And you took everything.
"Had to be a hell of a guy to match your mother," Emma said, deadpan.
Regina grimaced. "They never were a match. My father was a sweet man, but he was never bold." She could not remember every time her father had done something kind for her only for her mother to put an end to it in the harshest of ways. It had happened so often that Regina had been half sure her father had been in on her mother's schemes, and aimed only to make her more miserable by extending Regina a glimpse of hope for her mother to snuff out.
Only seeing the man's sheer relief the night Regina told him she had banished her mother had confirmed he had been under the woman's heel just as much as Regina had. Just pawns in Cora's greater aims.
"I guess that shouldn't be much of a surprise. She never struck me as much of a team player." The past tense sounded queer to Regina's ears. She wondered how long it would take to not feel out of place.
"No," Regina agreed. She tested the past tense on her own tongue. "She wasn't." It tasted no more normal than it sounded. She closed her eyes and pushed the oddness away.
"She was driven," Emma said with a hint of finality. Regina glanced to the blonde, who nodded her chin toward the gravestone. Regina raised a questioning eyebrow. "It was the truth." Emma shrugged. "And it doesn't really acknowledge—"
"What she really was." Regina finished for her, searching Emma's eyes, but the woman was looking at the stone and nodding. "It's kinder than she probably deserves."
Emma turned her attention back to Regina. "The words wouldn't be for her, Regina." Oh, Regina thought. She could not keep eye contact and looked back to her mother's grave, considering. She raised her finger and called upon her mix of emotions to form the energy for her engraving spell.
Emma watched in silence while she traced the letters out in the same style as her mother's name.
"I don't understand how you can get that much control," Emma said with a hint of both admiration and frustration.
"Just… time," Regina said, dropping her hand and feeling exhausted to the bone. Seeing the memorial completed held an air of finality that took the wind out of Regina's sails. "I still need to find out who did this." She had her suspicions, but had not had time to follow through.
"We will," Emma said. A tentative hand gripped her shoulder. Regina looked at it, blinking. "We just—" Emma was cut off by her phone ringing. She sighed and pulled it out with a grimace, answering, "Swan." Regina heard a masculine voice speak over the other end of the line and the warmth left Regina's shoulder as Emma stood. "I'm still off duty, David. Why can't you handle it?"
Regina gained her feet as well, dusting off her pants and gazing down at mother's final resting place and thoughts turning toward the future.
"What do you mean you're compromised?" Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes scrunching closed. "God damn it, is everyone all right?" She nodded several times and sagged as David responded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there." She pulled the phone away from her ear glared at it with a sense of weary resignation.
"What's going on?" Emma sighed.
"There's been an assault," the sheriff said, her knuckles going white around her cell. "Moe French found Anton's beanfield."
Regina let a low breath out through her nose, thinking through the ramifications. The beans had been a guarded secret, and they had all taken the gamble that they would not be discovered until they were sure they would be a viable option – or so had been the Charmings' thought process. With Moe French being one of Midas' lickspittles… "You'll need to contain the situation," she said.
Emma nodded, her eyes going soft for a quick moment before determination sparked in their depths. "We need to get there, then." Emma nodded her head toward the path before turning and striding toward it, assuming Regina would follow.
The former queen glanced back at her mother's final resting place and did not feel torn. "Farewell, Mother." She muttered the words and moved to follow Emma out of the cemetery, never gazing back.
E/N: So I originally intended to rush forward on the plot, but decided to pump the brakes and show a little Emma/Regina time when their lives weren't on the line. As I mentioned above, this chapter was originally meant to be longer, but I couldn't add to it without taking away from the impact of Regina walking away from her mother's grave.
And make no mistake, Regina will still be on the hunt for her mother's killer, but I wanted to show how Regina is able to put being a mother above all. Had Henry not been there when she discovered the body, who knows what would have happened or what Regina would have done in her moment of pure, agonized grief? Henry gave her something to focus on, which was strung along by until this chapter, where everyone's favorite Sheriff reared her helpful head.
Next time, we're back to moving the plot forward and picking up pretty much where we left off. Likely an Emma chapter, though there's a decent shot of being a David chapter as well. I'll have to see which grabs the attention more.
Hope you enjoyed this little pause in the action!