AN: This chapter was planned before Bleeding Through (before even The Miller's Daughter) so the relationship between Eva and Cora is quite different. I am taking elements of The Miller's Daughter, however, so everything we've seen between Cora and Rumple on the show can be assumed to have happened in this story.

Chapter Thirty-Three: Where It All Began

The whispers followed him.

He was used to being alone, being avoided, and he relished in it. After spending all of his formative years labeled as the son of a coward, and all of his human adult years labeled as a coward himself, watching people fearfully skirt away from him served as a constant reminder that he was no longer a spineless peasant who could be pushed around by anyone with a sword. He was stronger, and that strength he could use that strength to protect himself and the ones he loved. His power would allow him to find his son, to reconnect with the boy he had lost. His magic would make him happy again.

He didn't mind the emptiness of his house, didn't mind the person that was so obviously missing - or so he told himself, over and over.

But then he caught the dwarves staring at him in open contempt, saw Charming glance his way with a mixture of sympathy and disdain, heard the rumors floating on the air.

"…found her wandering around… no memory… took her to the hospital…"

"…didn't want to remember…"

"…don't blame her for wanting to forget him."

Belle had walked over the town line. Belle had given up her identity, given up everything she was, everything she had ever been – all in order to forget him. He remembered her fear when they'd found her chained to the mining cart, remembered the way she'd frantically scrambled out of the cart as soon as the locks had been released, remembered the anger she'd turned on her father at the very idea that he would do this to her… he remembered how desperate she had been to not forget.

And now, it seemed, she was desperate to not remember.

"You did this."

"Really, Rumple… haven't we already had this conversation?" Cora drawled, leaning back in her seat and gazing at him with a slightly mocking stare.

"You did this," Rumple repeated, eyes flashing dangerously. He leaned forward, one hand resting flat on the table that separated them, the other gripped so tightly around his cane that his fingers had turned white. "You made Belle want to forget."

"I'm fairly certain you managed that all on your own," Cora replied calmly. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze without flinching. "Did you really think this wouldn't happen?" she scoffed. "Did you actually believe that you could ever be Good enough for her?"

Rumple shook his head. "If you hadn't told her…"

"I didn't tell her anything," Cora interjected smoothly. "Hook did, and the pirate's actions were never part of my plan."

"You knew he wouldn't wait," Rumple hissed. "You knew he'd go after Belle." He eyed her for a long moment, as though sizing her up, and then said, "Or do you expect me to believe that you were completely unaware of the type of man that pirate is?"

"Impatient, ruthless, driven by his need for revenge?" Cora smiled coolly. "Of course I know the type of person Hook is. But I told him not to go after you. It's not my fault that he didn't listen."

"You knew he wouldn't!"

Cora raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I suspected it," she conceded, "but I knew nothing. And I had nothing at all to do with Belle's decision to wander over the town line."

"That is…"

"Semantics," Cora interrupted. "It is entirely semantics, Rumple. But those semantics fit well within the outline of the deal we made." She rose to her feet so that he was no longer towering over her. "And haven't we had this conversation before, too?"

"This isn't over," Rumple threatened. He was shaking with rage, and once upon a time that might have scared her. But it didn't scare her anymore. He'd fallen in love, and it had made him weak.

Her smile turned glacial. "Are you going to break our deal? Attack me, Rumple, and I can go after your precious librarian… and your son." She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes, and the anger. Had he really not expected her to figure it out? He might never have discussed any of his intentions with her, but he had set his eyes on her daughter, and Cora had always intended to figure out why.

Rumple pursed his lips. "If I do break the deal, if we decide to fight, do you honestly think you can beat me? I won last time."

Cora pressed her lips into a thin line, her face going white with anger. She didn't want to dwell on that particular memory, but it was one she could never fully forget. It haunted her, always. The events of her brother-in-law's coronation, how everything had unfolded, how Rumple had robbed her everything she had built for herself...

"I underestimated you once, darling," she spat. "I won't do it again." She stepped around the table, closing the distance between them, and reached up to rest her fingers lightly on the side of his face. Lowering her voice, she murmured, "So go ahead, Rumple. Come after me. Let's see which one of us comes out on top."

Rumple caught her wrist and wrenched her hand away from his face. "Is that what you want? To kill me?" he demanded.

Cora pulled her hand out of his grip and laughed lightly. "Of course not. Why would I do that?" She turned her back on him. "Come after me, and I will go after Belle and your son." She glanced over her shoulder, a smirk curling the corners of her lips as she taunted him with a sentence she knew they both vividly remembered. "It's how you crush someone. You take away the thing that they value most."

Regina woke, breathless.

Moonlight crept in through the window, casting long shadows over the floor of her room. The house was still and quiet, the air calm except for the faint hum of distant magic, an indication of the protection barrier around the mansion.

But something had woken her. Something strong, powerful… magical.

Regina slipped out from underneath the covers and reached for her robe. The air was cool, but as she wrapped the robe around her shivering figure, she felt a rush of heat prickling at the back of her neck.

She spun around, half-expecting some spectral shape to be leering at her from the dark.

But the room was empty. Silent.

She hurried out into the hall and flipped on the light. She blinked once, twice, until her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and then started for the stairs.

The door to Henry's room opened. "Mom?" he asked, poking his head out, his hair tousled and his eyes bleary with sleep. "Is something wrong?"

Regina spared him a quick, worried glance. "I don't know," she admitted distractedly, "but you're perfectly safe in here, dear. Go back to sleep."

Henry, unsurprisingly, did not listen. He followed her down the stairs, hovering around her anxiously. "You're not hurt, are you?" he demanded, fear lacing his voice. "Like before?"

Regina rested her hand on his shoulder as she glanced towards the window that looked out over her perfectly manicured lawn. "No, dear," she said with a vague half-smile. "Nothing like that." She walked closer to the window, peering into the dark. The shadows were still and the wind was silent, and yet... Something was wrong. What was out there, in the night? What had her so uneasy?

"Mom," Henry said flatly, "I can tell you're worried about something."

Regina turned to face him then, giving him her full attention. His eyes were clouded with real fear, an emotion she rarely saw on his features. She forced a smile for his benefit, and he returned it tentatively.

Then the feeling of unease grew.

Outside the window, the protection barrier around her house began to shimmer. Blue light filled the night sky, bright enough to drown out the stars. The air grew hot and humid, and crackled with a strange electricity, and a wind rustled through the grass and the branches of the hedges.

Regina shoved Henry behind her, automatically moving between him and the door to the house. She conjured a ball of flames in one hand, ready to attack anyone who came to hurt her or her son. But it was all an unneeded precaution… right? Whatever was out there couldn't get past her protection barrier… right?

"M-Mom?" Henry's voice wavered.

"Henry, go upstairs," Regina ordered tersely, and this time Henry did listen, though not without giving her a mutinous glare first. He wanted to stay and fight, but Regina was having none of it, and when she turned her sternest gaze on him, he scampered up the stairs.

He paused once at the top of the staircase to look apprehensively at the window, then disappeared around the corner to his room.

Regina walked slowly forward, and hesitated with one hand on the doorknob.

Her mother could be out there.

She'd heard from David that Belle had walked over the town line. The semantics of whatever deal Cora and Gold had made probably protected Cora from the imp's wrath… for now. Because even if she hadn't technically broken the deal, she was still partially responsible for what had happened. And sooner or later Gold would seek revenge. He was far too delusional to accept that it was his own damn fault, and he would go after Cora, and the deal would be broken…

Was Cora preparing for that now? Was she trying to bring down the barrier because she knew everything was coming to a head?

And if so… what did she hope to gain by invading Regina's home?

Regina shoved the door open resolutely, and stepped out into the frigid air. Winter nighttime in Maine was not pleasant.

But there was a strange, unnatural heat seeping through the protection barrier, hissing and spitting sparks into the air. Then the blue light burst into a rush of brilliant white, scorching heat, and disappeared as quickly as it had come.

And a figure walked into Regina's yard.

The flames in Regina's hand grew, illuminating the yard, and she tensed, ready for whatever conflict was coming. Whoever it was, if they honestly thought they could invade her home, threaten her or her son... Well, they were going to be in for a rude awakening.

Then the figure stepped into the light.

"Where is my son?"

Emma Swan was standing in her yard.

Enchanted Forest, some time in the past…

The nursery was painted a soft blue.

Henry had wanted it, and Cora hadn't cared enough to argue with him; but now, as she gazed about the room, she couldn't help but feel that this warmth was at odds with what she wanted for her daughter. It was gentle, soothing, peaceful – all attributes that would not help Regina become a queen.

Cora stared down at her sleeping child, and smiled. She was just an infant, and far too young to know the lengths to which Cora would go for her, far too young to know the greatness for which she was destined. But Cora knew. She would place a crown on her daughter's head, and she would watch as the rest of the world knelt before them both.

She turned away from her daughter and walked over to the window. There was only one window – a single large one overlooking the courtyard. And though that courtyard was filled with peasants milling about on rough cobblestones, the nursery was high enough in the palace that the noise only barely reached them, and did not disturb Regina's slumber or Cora's thoughts.

Beyond the courtyard, the forest spread out over gently rolling hills that went on for as far as the eye could see. She had run in those woods as a girl, and hidden in them as an adolescent and a young woman on the nights when her father's drunken rages had become too much to bear and she'd needed a sanctuary. She appreciated that this window had a view of that forest, because she would never experience them the same way again.

Nobility did not hide in the woods like peasants or outlaws.

Cora felt a sudden shift in the room, pulling her out of her thoughts, and instinctively knew what it meant before her mind had time to fully process what had changed.

She turned, and he was standing there.

"Rumple."

"Cora," he mimicked, a giggle issuing forth after her name. He came forward, entering the room with his usual jerky and frivolous movements, amusement tugging up the corners of his lips.

The length of the nursery separated them, but Cora felt a sudden closeness to him, and a sudden gaping emptiness in her chest. The ache lasted only a moment, and she could not identify if it was pain or anger or dislike. The emotion meant nothing to her – or perhaps it wasn't even an emotion. Perhaps it was simply a reminder that something was missing.

Love is weakness, she thought, and I am not weak.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a detached manner, feigning boredom.

"Here, dearie?" he repeated, gesturing to the room with a silly grin. "Why, I always check up on my investments." And his gaze darted to Regina sleeping in her bassinet.

"She's mine," Cora countered, laying her claim. "Not yours – she won't ever be yours."

His eyes met hers with an open challenge. "We shall see."

She bristled in anger, but a shiver of fear ran down her spine before she could stop it. He caught the movement and smirked as his verbal blow landed so easily, as though already sure of his success.

"You only get your own child," Cora hissed, fear making her lash out. She could not let him take Regina, could not let him ruin all her plans. "That was the deal, Rumple. Are you going to break it?"

Something shifted in his eyes then, something speaking of a pain she didn't know, didn't understand. His words were tight and sharp as he retorted, "I don't break deals, dearie."

For a moment, they were both still and silent, neither even daring to breathe.

Then, still holding her gaze, he walked forward, stopping directly in front of Regina's bassinet.

Cora forced the fear to subside. She would not let him do this to her, would not let him render her powerless. She had chosen control, had chosen it above everything else, and no one – not even Rumplestilskin – would turn her back into the miller's daughter.

He was testing her, baiting her, and so she forced herself to do nothing as he reached down and lifted Regina into his arms.

The baby woke, eyes opening wide and immediately registering surprise at the strange man holding her. But she did not cry out, did not even squirm. She merely regarded him with curious brown eyes, seemingly content to be held in his arms.

Cora turned her back on him, a deliberate slight, a clear signal that she did not think him a threat. They had a deal, and he would not break it. Regina would never be his.

"You plan to make her a queen," Rumple said.

"I do," Cora agreed easily, wandering back to the window and staring out at the distant forest.

"You are fifth in line to the throne, dearie. How will you ever put your daughter upon it?"

Cora turned to face him. "With an awful lot of bloodshed," she replied coolly. He reacted visibly to those words, to the casual reminder of that day and the decisions she had made, and this time it was her turn to smirk at the verbal blow. "Now…" she extended her arms, pressing her advantage, "if you are done, I would like my daughter back."

He crossed to stand in front of her, and placed Regina carefully in her arms. His hands brushed against her as he did so, skin touching skin, and she felt nothing. The spark that had once been there was gone. This man had once inspired in her a passion that had resulted in magic. A single look from him had once given her the strength and confidence to fight for herself, for her future. His touch, his smile, his breath on her neck... she could remember all of it, and once, it had driven her into a frenzy of desire and glee.

Now he was simply in her way.

And for some strange reason that she could not quite fathom, that hurt.

But there was no heart in her chest to pump the emotion into the rest of her body, to make it linger and torment her. There was no heart to feel guilt or pain, to feel loss – no heart to force her to accept that she had lost something the day she had let him go.

I chose power, she thought, and I will have it. I will have them on their knees.

She stepped around him, and placed Regina back in her bassinet. The infant babbled for a moment, incoherent sounds meant to convey something, and then fell quiet.

"Was it worth it?"

Cora did not turn to face Rumple, but neither did she pretend to misunderstand his question. Still gazing at Regina, she said simply, "Yes."

It was worth it. How could it not be, when she was so close to her dreams? His loss still haunted her, and sometimes she would wake in Henry's arms and feel – lonely. She might not have a heart, but it was impossible to tear out her emotions. She still felt them, in a muted sort of way, but she would not be ruled by them. They had no power over her anymore.

She had chosen control.

"She will be a queen," Rumple said suddenly.

Cora spun to face him, but he was not looking at her. He was looking at Regina with a frighteningly intense expression, and in that moment, Cora felt another shiver of fear. And this one she could not force away.

He looked up then, and held her gaze with frightening intensity. His voice was calm, with none of the usual embellishments, and far more serious than she had ever heard, "But she will be mine. And you, Cora – you will, too."

And then he was gone.

Cora stared at the spot where he had stood for a long moment, blood pounding in her ears. She had ripped out her own heart to stop herself from loving him, and yet he had still somehow managed to leave his mark on her.

She let out a long breath, and turned to the window. The distant forest rose to meet an azure sky. Gentle breezes rustled through the room, bringing with them a tranquil atmosphere – but tranquil would not help Regina become a queen.

"It's for the good of the kingdom, dear."

Eva frowned at her mother. She hated those words, hated how earnestly her mother said them. Who cared about the good of the kingdom? She was a princess, not some peasant made to labor in the fields or the market. Commoners were supposed to work for her good, not the other way around.

"Diplomacy is important," her mother continued, ignoring the petulant look on Eva's face, "to ensure continued peace between our kingdoms. You cannot forgo a royal coronation."

"But, Mama, Francis is so boring," Eva protested.

Her mother shook her head, her expression becoming stern. "This is not a discussion, Eva," she replied firmly, "and neither is it a request. You will attend the coronation, and you will wish the newly crowned King Francis and Queen Blanche happiness and prosperity."

Eva huffed. "Fine," she snapped, rising to her feet and brushing a hand over the silk of her dress, smoothing away the creases. "Fine, I'll go. I'll be nice. But I'm not going to enjoy it."

And then she flounced from the room.

Her mother called her back, but she ignored the summons and continued along the corridor towards her own room, anger bubbling inside of her.

It wasn't fair. Why did she have to waste several perfectly nice summer days attending the coronation of a prince she didn't even like just because his father had died? It would be ever so dull, just as the last trip had been. Francis had no personality and cared for little more than his beloved wife and darling children, and his other brothers had been nothing but simpering fools. In fact, the only thing that had made the trip bearable had been King Xavier – and he was the one who had just died.

She entered her chambers still in a huff, and let the door slam shut behind her. With gritted teeth, she flopped down on the fainting sofa and hit her pillow with a closed fist.

"Problems, dearie?"

Eva started and jumped to her feet.

A strange man – or perhaps creature? – was standing in her room.

"What are you?" she demanded.

"What? What?" the man said, clicking his tongue in admonishment. "My, my, what a rude question. I am not a what." Eva merely gazed at him, unimpressed, and he gave an elaborate bow and said, "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rumplestilskin."

Eva frowned. "Oh. Well, I'm…"

"Eva," Rumplestilskin interrupted. "I know." He took a step closer to her and she flinched away, appalled by his appearance. His scaly skin and stringy hair did little to endear him to her. He paused, adopting a wounded look, and said, "Beauty is only skin deep, my dear."

"What do you want?" Eva demanded, ignoring his statement, "and how did you get into my chambers?"

"To answer your second question – magic, of course," Rumplestilskin replied, twirling his long fingers.

Eva hesitated, wondering if she should simply call her guards and have this stranger removed, but curiosity was stopping her. His appearance might be... questionable... and his manner of speech odd, but she was still intrigued despite herself.

"And to answer my first?"

"Only to help you," the man said with a high-pitched giggle. "You are dismayed about being forced to attend this coronation, are you not?"

Eva hesitated, not wanting to reveal such information to a stranger, but finally gave a single nod.

"It might be fun," Rumplestilskin offered. "So many royal people will be there." He giggled again, strange eyes flashing with amusement. "Perhaps you could find your true love?"

Eva rolled her pretty eyes. "I don't believe it true love," she replied, carelessly dismissing the notion.

"Don't you?" he said. "Ah, dearie. Give it time."

Eva settled herself back onto the fainting sofa and gazed at the strange man - imp, she decided was a more appropriate term - with pursed lips. "Do you know what Francis and his family are like? The guests might be somewhat more bearable, but Francis and Blanche will not be."

"But don't you enjoy balls?"

"Balls are fun," Eva protested. "Coronations are entirely different."

The commoners were invited, of course, and that meant that everyone had to be on their best behavior. They had to be kind and gracious, and welcoming, and everyone stood on ceremony. Francis would no doubt talk about his duty to his people, and prattle on and on about affairs of state. The food might be the finest the newly crowned king could offer, but the drinks would be limited and the dancing would be too stately for her taste.

Honestly, commoners had far more fun at these things. They didn't have to worry about how they were viewed.

"Oh, I don't know. Francis does have some interesting family members," Rumplestilskin countered. He sidled closer to her, his eyes gleaming. "Cora, for instance, is quite… fascinating."

"The miller's daughter," Eva drawled. "How delightful." She fiddled with the hem of her dress for a moment. "She has a daughter. Regina." Her lips curled spitefully. "A royal princess with miller's blood in her veins."

With her gaze averted, she didn't see the malice in Rumpelstiltskin's eyes.

"I was there when Cora and Henry were married," she continued. "I can't imagine there's much love in that relationship."

"I doubt Cora is capable of feeling love."

Eva noticed the sudden sharpness in Rumpelstiltskin's tone, and she looked up in time to see bitterness flash through his eyes. It was a strange, sudden change from the carefree high-pitched giggling he had exhibited before.

"You know Cora?" she asked curiously.

"Correction. I knew her," the imp replied, and the giggle was back.

Eva shook her head and said nothing.

Her dislike of Cora was not entirely based on the fact that she was the daughter of a miller and had managed to rise to the wife of a prince. She'd heard stories of that sort of thing happening in the past – generally when concepts like true love were involved. But she didn't believe in that ridiculous notion, and was fairly certain that what was so often called true love was really an ambitious commoner trying to climb his or her way up the social ladder.

And again, that wasn't egregious enough to completely justify her hatred of the miller's daughter.

No, she didn't like Cora mainly because Cora could spin straw into gold.

Since Henry and Cora's marriage, Xavier's kingdom had become the most powerful in the realm, exerting its influence far and wide. Who could compete with a king who could literally create money?

And because of her abilities, Cora had become Xavier's favorite. She was the first lady in the kingdom, despite the fact Blanche was married to the crown prince. She could do no wrong in the eyes of the man whose kingdom she had saved from bankruptcy, and she knew it. So she dared to look down her nose at the rulers of other kingdoms, at people who were born into nobility, or even royalty. She deemed herself better than everyone else, and made a point of snidely expressing that opinion to Eva whenever she could.

Watching her royally born parents forced to fawn over that upstart had been the last straw.

But what could Eva do besides seethe in silence? Who would take her side if she started a fight with the favored daughter-in-law of the most powerful king in the realm?

The imp was staring at her intently. "Cora was the favored in the land," he said softly, as though reading her thoughts. "She was not just your rival, but Blanche's, too. And now that Xavier is dead, how do you think the newly enthroned Blanche will treat her sister-in-law?"

"With respect and deference for fear of losing the money the kingdom so relies on," Eva snapped, averting her gaze. "She's not that foolish."

"Well… you are a clever girl. And in that case, I am sure you can think of other ways to separate Cora from her influence."

Eva met his gaze, and smiled. "And you have a suggestion, don't you?"

Leopold stared hard at the reports on the table before him, acutely aware of his advisers waiting for him to say something. But what could he say? It was very clear what was happening to his kingdom, and equally clear that there was little he could do to stop it.

He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "The kingdom is bankrupt."

"Yes, Sire," one of his advisers answered flatly. There was no point in softening the blow.

Leopold shifted his gaze to stare out the nearby window to the tree-covered hills that sloped down towards the distant ocean. The view was beautiful – his palace was beautiful. His parents had spent decades strengthening their kingdom. But they had died within weeks of each other three years previously, and it seemed as though everything had gone wrong since then.

"An alliance with Midas' kingdom might be prudent," one of his advisers suggested, leaning forward.

"Xavier's death may change things," another interjected. "Francis is not the man his father was. He understands that there is more to politics than destroying the opposition, and that gold cannot buy everything. He knows it is in his best interest to… separate himself from his father's more ruthless tactics."

Leopold nodded thoughtfully. "Any chance of an alliance with Edward? Or Arthur? Or Leah?"

"Unlikely, Sire. Their kingdoms are mostly self-sufficient. They've shut off trade in order to protect themselves." The adviser offered a wry grin. "Besides, Leah is far too interested in her new love to pay much attention to the plights of others."

Leopold shrugged. "I happen to like Stefan," he said dryly. A pause, then, "Though I realize that I may be the only one." He rose to his feet and stepped away from the table, walking over to the window. He stared out at the view, mulling over his options.

An alliance with Midas might help – or it might simply shift his kingdom from being dependent on one wealthy king to another. Xavier had been a known threat, but Midas was unpredictable. His ability to turn anything he touched to gold was more of a curse than a blessing, and it made him temperamental.

Besides, contrary to what Xavier had seemed to believe, gold was not enough to run a successful kingdom. It certainly bought him influence in the short run – something he had flaunted whenever possible – but his subjects could not eat or drink or wear gold, could not use it to plant crops and sow fields, could not build homes or ships with it. It could not be used to replenish the kingdom's natural resources if those ran out – nor would it be useful if the other kingdoms decided to cease trade, as Edward and Arthur and Leah had all done.

Xavier had been far too interested in immediate power to think of the long term effects of his actions. Francis had a better grasp of the complexities of the relationships with the other kingdoms.

"I will attend Francis' coronation," Leopold said finally, turning back to his advisers. "I want to speak to Francis in person. I want to know his intentions before I make any decisions. With Xavier's passing and Francis' coronation, things might change. I want to see how the pieces fall."