Regina makes her way upstairs without looking back. She has enough faith in the blonde to believe that the younger woman will follow her sooner or later, and her hopes are rewarded when she makes out the soft thud of the Sheriff's boots behind her. Slipping into her bedroom, she cringes as she hears Emma hesitate outside, but she's blessed with another small favour as, finally, the blonde appears in the doorway; a hand holding back her long hair fretfully and an expression of disquiet pinching her face.

"Regina... I don't think this is exactly appropriate..."

She mutters.

"All I want from you is your attention, Emma... You can sit wherever you like..."

Such a statement might seem odd under any other circumstance, but the Sheriff deciphers the true meaning behind the Mayor's words: she will not be touched, she will not be pestered, and she is free to speak openly, without fear of retribution. Sighing, she perches at the foot of the king-sized bed; green eyes studying the Queen balefully as the latter gathers the old book she has come to know so well from her dresser and carries it over. Clearing her throat, Regina gestures pointedly at the empty space beside the blonde and the younger woman bites her lip before nodding wearily; closing her eyes as the mattress dips to her right and she breathes in the soft scent of Chanel.

"I've read that thing cover to cover, Regina... I don't know what you-"

"-You may have... I haven't... I read parts of it - the parts about Gold - when you went missing. I hoped it would give me a clue as to where and why he'd taken you... Some of those stories intermingled with my own... My stories... My life... Do you know how curious that is, dear? To read about yourself as though you are nothing more than a character playing out some higher power's fancies? I believe now that there's actually a touch of truth to that notion. I believe Rumplestiltskin to have been in control of much more than I'd originally conceived, but, please understand that I'm not telling you so in an attempt to reassign blame. I'm telling you because-... Well, I've never had anyone to talk to about such things... About my feelings and about my reason for doing things... Whether they're moral or good, I don't know. In fact, I imagine a great deal of what I've done is the very opposite of good... I'm not going to sit here and beg you to absolve me of the wrong I've done to the people of this town... There are things that I would take back - that I would change - if I knew then what I know now, but this isn't about the Curse. This is about you and me... I would lay down my life for you should the necessity arise, and I know you well enough to be sure you'd do the same for me. I love you, dear, but I know very little about you, and you know even less about me.

I know what little I have managed to find out by digging through legal documents pertaining to your past. You know only what you've read on these pages. And, perhaps that's the problem. Perhaps there's something to be said for learning hard truths from the lips of their source... I'm not going to get down on my knees for you, Emma. I've begged for forgiveness in such a dehumanising fashion just once in my life, and I don't plan on doing it again... You'll either grant it, or you won't. I've asked you up here because I want to tell you a story. My story. Told my way."

Regarding the brunette somberly, Emma gives her a slow nod, waiting for her to continue as her gaze lowers to the delicate text that dances across the page.

"Once upon a time, there was a young girl who was terribly unhappy. She had a mother and a father that loved her very much, but her mother was an overbearing woman, cruel and selfish, while her father was weak, and a victim to his wife's sharp tongue. It was no secret to the girl that her parents were not a couple brought together by love, but rather by the thirst for power her mother seemed unable to sate.

As time went on, the girl grew closer to her father, for he was a kind man; filled with the goodness so absent in her mother. They formed a silent allegiance; the two of them versus the girl's mother, whose power grew day by day, year by year, until she was blinded by it and could think of nothing else. The girl's mother would use her power - her magic - as a form of reprimand, leaving the young girl so terrified at the mere thought of punishment that not a word was spoken out of turn. Not a toe was placed out of line.

But the girl did have one love in her life that kept her going. She loved to ride... And with her love for riding, she developed a love for the boy who taught her. The stable boy. It was a simple love at first - that of a lonely young girl discovering that the world could be kind and offer her a friend - but it soon grew into more, as these things do, and her love became a physical emotion that at times felt as though it would consume her whole.

She kept her love for the stable boy a well-guarded secret, and it was this, perhaps, that kept her sane as her mother berated her daily over how her inadequacy was keeping her from finding a suitable husband. A fitting suitor. A man of status... A man of royalty. She would listen to her mother's harsh words, and sometimes she would cry, sometimes she would not, but she would know deep down that once she had endured such depreciating remarks, her Love would be there to welcome her with open arms. To comfort her. To make everything feel as though it might be okay.

Then, she met Snow White.

The young princess was travelling with her father - a King on the lookout for a new bride to replace young Snow's mother who had fallen mysteriously ill not long before - when the steed on which she had been mounted went wild and took off with the child screaming; clinging to its back. Our girl was out in the fields with her forbidden love, and she had the misfortune to take heed of the princess's pleas for help. She saved the child, thinking nothing of it but that it was a wondrous thing that she should have been out at that exact time... How fortuitous for the weeping princess.

A day later, the King came knocking on her door, bearing an ocean of gratitude along with a ring. He requested the girl's hand in marriage - thinking such a selfless creature would make a fine mother for his precious daughter - and the girl's mother accepted on her behalf without so much as a glance in her daughter's direction.

The girl was terrified; not wishing to marry the King who was so many years her elder, and not wishing to forsake her true love of the stable boy. Distraught, she wept her woes to her beloved and he took her in his arms the way she adored - the way that made her feel safe - and he placed a kiss upon her lips that was overseen by the young princess who had strayed out into the livery.

The girl chased down the princess, and she cried and she begged and she pleaded. She implored the child not to speak of what she had seen, explaining that above all else, her mother must never know.

And, the girl agreed. She promised. She promised not to tell.

But, Snow White did tell. She broke the promise she'd vowed to uphold.

Sensing turbulence ahead, the girl and the stable boy decided to run, but it was too late... Taking heed of what the young princess had divulged to her, the girl's mother found her daughter and the one she loved in the stable. The girl pleaded with her mother to understand; to allow her just this one thing.

But, her mother ripped out the boy's heart and crushed it into dust.

After that, the girl felt a numbness that stayed with her for a long time. She married the King, watching as he doted on his daughter who had caused her life to fall to ruin... Forever feeling as though she was an outsider within her own skin. Any love, any goodness the girl may have once possessed turned slowly to hate.

Hate for the world. Hate for her people... But most of all; hate for the child responsible for her situation.

Hate for Snow White.

As the years went by and the princess grew up to become a woman, the two of them fought bitterly. The girl - now a Queen - did all in her power to make young Snow feel the pain and the heartache she herself had suffered. She did all that she could to keep the princess away from the young man with whom she'd become infatuated; threatening him and battling her. Unable to stand the pain of failing repeatedly to crush the younger woman, she eventually decided to eliminate her altogether; poisoning an apple and cursing the princess to an endless sleep.

Yet, still, Snow thwarted her.

Still, the fair maiden - so loved by all around her - was saved by her True Love with nothing more than a simple kiss.

This was too much for the Queen. She fell to her lowest point; seeking aid from a man with whom deals were said to come with an immeasurable price.

Such a warning fell on deaf ears, for she was ruined. Destroyed. There was nothing left to lose.

The man - the monster - spoke to her of a curse, and she worked hard to come into its possession, for it promised to devastate those who had continually bested her.

At first, she was unsuccessful; sacrificing her prized steed to perform the darkest of magic, but such a loss was not enough. The price was much higher.

So, she sacrificed her father.

She shed a great many tears for what she'd done, and to this day, she sheds a great many more, but the sad truth is that such a loss had seemed worth it in her darkest hours.

With her price paid, she had the means to perform the most despicable of curses the land had ever seen, and she took great pleasure in visiting the princess and her betrothed on their wedding day to warn them of the doom that was soon to come.

Then, discovering the princess to be with child, the Queen set out to slay the babe, following the word of a prophecy wherein the princess's daughter would act as a Saviour... Where she would be the Hope.

Once again, the Queen was bested; the child survived and escaped to another realm.

Such a thing seemed of little consequence, however, when finally - after all of the times she had failed - the Queen succeeded. She won.

She tore up that hateful world that had treated her so cruelly and created a new story. A story in which things would finally go her way... Such a story was never written down, and perhaps that is for the best.

The Queen was elated at first, thinking herself the only one privy to the memories of that other world. She watched on hungrily as those that had bested her, displeased her, hated her, went about their sad, sorry little lives like the bovine creatures she knew them to be.

Such pleasure soon gave way to boredom, however... Boredom at having the entire town brainwashed beneath her thumb.

Soon, she wished for a purpose - she wished for a child - and a couple of weeks later, she adopted a young boy, and things were better for her then than they had ever been in her whole life.

But, eventually, the boy grew distant from her. Poisoned by a book bestowed upon him by the woman who had destroyed the Queen's life in that other land. The boy began to speak of things he had no business knowing about, and his love for the Queen turned into something else... Something that hurt her in a way she didn't know it was possible to hurt... And, when she thought she was in just about the greatest amount of pain she could bear without surely going crazy... The boy ran away and found his 'real' mother.

And, it turned out the Queen was able to hurt just that little bit more than she had believed possible.

She hated the woman the boy bought back with him; a pretty thing in possession of a crass tongue and a complete inability to comprehend rules and boundaries. She strived endlessly to rid herself of the newcomer, her mind churning away as, little by little, she began to notice things about the woman her son seemed desperate to call his mother.

Unsettling things.

Time started again, and it started fast, and the woman the Queen looked to with such hatred proved herself to be a much greater force to be reckoned with than she'd first anticipated.

Before long, the Queen was almost certain as to the identity of the young woman.

This knowledge only served to feed her desperation to rid herself of her unwelcome guest all the more, but, when she came across the young woman battling her way through a storm, she took a brief moment's leave of her senses and invited her into the comfort of her home.

The woman was irritating, and she was bothersome, but she was also beautiful, as the Queen began to learn as time went on. Slowly, hate turned into a curious sort of companionship, which eventually became friendship - although both women were far too stubborn to admit to such a thing - before finally... It became love.

And, it is because of the Queen's love for the woman, that when she thought she had been betrayed - finding a series of documents suggesting that her lover had gone behind her back to take custody of the boy - she made a terrible mistake... She sought out a man whom she had no business calling upon, but alas, he was a soul so desperate that he had no choice but to adhere to her wishes... She harnessed a small amount of magic and brought it into this realm... Magic in the form of a poisoned apple... She... Sh-she gifted the woman with the tainted fruit in the form of a pie, unable to bear the pain of the other's hateful deception...

The Queen soon learned of her mistake in thinking the young woman guilty, but by then, it was too late, and she found her lying as though dead, and she realised that no matter how much pain one has suffered in their lifetime, there can always be a hurt that is worse than anything endured before... She wept over the young woman bitterly, placing a kiss on her lips when she realised what she had done... And... The woman awoke... Because the Queen's love was true. But, for her to have done such a thing - to have harmed the young woman in such a way - it weighed on the Queen heavily, and she began to unravel as guilt threatened to consume her, and her heart began to ache as though it were a rotting thing.

Then, when she finally reached her worst, the young woman came through at her best... The Queen tried to tell her friend what she had done, but... Her friend explained to her that she was h-happy... That she didn't want to know because she was happy.

That the Queen made her happy.

Only, of course, she didn't know that her companion was the Queen...

The Evil Queen...

And now, perhaps, that unhappy little girl who has done so much wrong in her life to try and compensate for the ill hand she believed she had been dealt has finally played all of her winning cards... Maybe this is the wrong from which there is no redemption..."

A heavy silence falls over them as the brunette finishes all that she has to say, the book sitting untouched on her lap beneath her folded hands. She sniffs as salted tears trickle unchecked from sooty lashes before falling lightly backwards onto the bed; exhausted. She's surprised when she feels the mattress dip to her side, the blonde moving to lie stiffly beside to her. She takes a chance and reaches for the younger woman's hand, and while she's not rewarded with the responding squeeze she'd hoped for, the Sheriff doesn't pull her hand away either.

"I did it with a pair of scissors."

"...Wh-what?"

"My scar. I did it with a pair of scissors. I was nineteen and I needed money, and a friend of a friend told me he could get me a job dancing at this club if I wanted it. I didn't want it, but I also didn't want to end up kicked out of the apartment I was crashing at.

So I danced.

I never really thought I was pretty when I was younger, even though people told me differently. If I was pretty like they said, then why didn't anyone want me? I just didn't get it. It was nothing overwhelming, nothing that took up a great deal of space in my mind. I just always wanted to be different, so that people would look at me and think - truly think - I was pretty. So that they might want me around. It sounds stupid now, but it didn't then.

Well... They looked at me when I danced.

And, do you know something? When they looked at me that way, I realised that I never wanted anyone to look at me like that again. I realised I didn't want to be pretty after all. Not if that was the way people would look at me...

So, I marked myself. It was stupid really, and with the amount of whisky I drank that night, I'm lucky that scar is all that I got... But it worked, in a way.

Maybe, at the time, it was the scar. Maybe, now, it's what's behind the scar. I don't know, I just know that it worked.

People don't look at me that way anymore."

The blonde shrugs, staring up at the ceiling.

"... Have you ever told anyone that before?"

Regina frowns, turning her head to the side to study the Sheriff.

"No. Why?"

"Because someone needs to tell you just how stupid you really are... You're beautiful, Emma."

"Thank you, but you saying so wasn't why I told you."

"I know... Thank you for telling me."

"Regina, what I did was stupid. A whole tonne of stuff I've done is stupid... But I've never done anything as bad as what you did."

"I-"

"-But... For all of the shitty things I have done... Do you know what I have to defend myself with? I can argue that I was drunk, that I was poor, that I didn't know any better. That my wrongs were an inevitable consequence of my upbringing... Fair arguments, if I'm being kind to my former self, although that means little when others rarely offer such grace... Either way, it doesn't matter, because what it all boils down to is that most of the bad things I've done, I did because it was what suited me best at the time... You did what was best for you, too, only, you had your own reasons... I guess what I'm trying to say is, the way I see it, I have two options right now. I can tell you that you did terrible things, and I can walk out of that door and never speak to you again... Or, I can try to get my head around the fact that you did terrible things because you were in a terrible place."

Regina turns to study the blonde; her heart pounding as she replays the Sheriff's wording in her mind.

I can try to get my head around it.

I can try.

Oh god, please...

Struggling for something to say and unable to take the silence that threatens to drive her mad, she pushes herself cautiously up onto her elbow and looks down into green eyes. She moves slowly - crucially aware of just how much hangs in the balance - and brushes her lips against the younger woman's, running her hand gently under the Sheriff's shirt and tracing the line of the scar beneath. Closing her eyes and deepening their kiss, she rolls onto the blonde; pinning her in place and shivering when pale hands find hers.

"I'm going to put my neck on the line and hope you're entertaining the second of your two options?"

She whispers.

"Well... The benefits do outweigh the risks."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Hot sex mostly..."

Emma replies, and the brunette's eyes widen comically and she allows herself a timid smirk that widens salaciously when the blonde grins up at her, leaning back down and capturing the younger woman's lips with fresh vigour.