Chapter Thirty-Five: By the People, For the People
Emma stared heavily at the tattered remains of her red leather jacket. It had meant something to her – something she couldn't fully put into words. The jacket had been her own suit of armor, protecting her. She'd worn it so frequently it had become a second skin. It was part of who she was – guarded, prickly, vulnerable.
Was it weird to be this attached to a piece of clothing? To associate it with feelings and thoughts, to imbue it with meaning?
She sighed – yes, it probably was weird, but the jacket had meant something to her, and it had not survived her stay in the Enchanted Forest.
She dropped the jacket onto her bed.
Mary Margaret and David were waiting downstairs. Regina had taken Henry back to her house – something Emma and Henry had both strongly protested until David had murmured that he needed to talk to her without Henry around. There were obviously some things he needed to say that he didn't want Henry to know, and Emma had reluctantly agreed.
But it had been hard to watch Henry leave.
"I am going to see him again soon," she said, muttering the words aloud to the empty bedroom.
Right now, though, her… parents… were going to fill her in on everything that had happened in Storybrooke, and then…
Then she was going have a chat with the people who had imprisoned Mary Margaret and Ruby.
She gave her red leather jacket once last, lingering look, then grabbed her blue jacket and walked from the room.
Cora watched as Eva hurried from the banquet hall. She was clearly hoping to be unobtrusive, unnoticed, but Cora had been keeping an eye on her all night, and noted this curiously. What was Eva doing now – what new embarrassment was she plotting?
After a moment, Cora rose to her feet, murmured a brief excuse to those around her, and left the hall as well.
She stepped out onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air. Eva was leaning against the railing, clutching it tightly. She was tense, and bristling with anger, and she turned to face Cora with resentment in her gaze.
"Enjoying the view?" Cora asked. She wondered, briefly, if Eva had noticed the villages that dotted the landscape around the castle. Did she know anything about peasants at all, or did she view them only as objects for her own amusement?
Eva pursed her lips. "I've seen better," she said.
Cora forced herself to smile. She crossed the balcony, coming to stand at Eva's side. Out there, hidden by the darkness of the night, was the mill she had come from. Did Eva know what a mill was, what back-breaking labor went into grinding wheat into flour, or did she assume that bread simply appeared, fully-formed, in the kitchens?
Aloud, she said, "Have you? I find that hard to believe." Viciously, she goaded, "There is no better land than the one I now rule."
"Rule?" There was a spark of challenge in Eva's eyes. "Have you forgotten your place?"
Unbidden, the memory arose - the feel of the stone beneath her knees, the sight of Eva towering over her, laughing. The words of apology forced from her lips, nearly choking her as she made herself say them.
"I know exactly where I stand," she said, her voice low. "And it is no longer kneeling at your feet." There was no apology in Eva's eyes, no sympathy or compassion. Just cold haughtiness. Cora pressed on, "Though perhaps one day soon you'll kneel at mine."
She saw it then – the sudden welling of rage and fury in Eva's eyes, the desire to destroy. Bloodlust. Eva would have been good at magic, Cora thought idly, but she didn't have Rumplestilskin to teach her.
"How dare you?" Eva snarled.
Cora was amused at how easy it was to provoke a reaction out of this arrogant, spoiled princess. "I'll bring your entire kingdom to its knees if I have to."
It wasn't just Eva, though. It wasn't just that one action, or Xavier forcing her to apologize for what Eva had done. It was the countless times she had been overlooked, discounted, ignored. It was the way no one ever saw anything worthwhile in her. Just a dirty, dusty miller's daughter.
She'd been mistreated one too many times, and Eva had been the tipping point.
Well… she'd made sure no one could ignore her now.
She dragged her eyes over Eva. "It's amusing to watch your parents feign such… delight… in conversing with me. So desperate for my favor, so eager to win the support of this kingdom. But it won't save you."
She didn't mean it, not really. She had no real desire to destroy the other kingdom – she'd much rather they continue desperately needing her. But she wanted to watch Eva squirm.
Instead, Eva's gaze hardened, and she said brutally, "You think you have power? You think you are untouchable? You are a miller's daughter. Jewelry and fine dresses do not change what you really are, underneath it all. And you know nothing of how this game is played."
Cora curled her fingers into fists, her palms growing hot, burning. She bit back the desire to lash out, to strike Eva.
Perhaps she did want to destroy Eva's kingdom after all.
Forcing a cool smile to her lips, she said simply, softly, "We'll see," and swept from the balcony.
No one was going to turn her back into a miller's daughter.
If Leah was at all surprised to see Emma standing in front of her, she did not show it. Her eyes fixed intently on the blonde's face, and her lips compressed into a thin line, but she still simply stood there, waiting.
"Leah?" Emma asked by way of greeting. She couldn't remember if she'd ever met the other woman while under the curse. Mary Margaret had informed her that Leah's cursed name had been Margaret, and she'd run some sort of business, but those facts had not meant anything to Emma.
"Yes," the redhead replied. She turned away from Emma and retreated into her home.
"I'm Emma Swan," Emma introduced herself, following Leah.
Leah glanced over her shoulder. "I know," she said succinctly. There were circles under her eyes, dark and vivid as bruises. There was a haunted look in Leah's eyes that no doubt had to do with her recent trials, and Emma felt the tiniest bit of sympathy.
Then she remembered that Leah had locked away Mary Margaret and Ruby, and the sympathy vanished.
"You have returned," Leah said. She stopped in the center of the living room – overcrowded with Victorian furniture and dark due to the heavy drapes drawn over the windows – and turned to face Emma. "I was led to believe you were trapped in our land."
"I was," Emma replied, frowning at the awkward, stilted conversation. "I managed to find my way back, though."
"I see." Leah studied her carefully, then asked in a would-be neutral tone, "And my daughter?"
"She's still in the Enchanted Forest," Emma answered. She had been ready for Leah's question and the sentiment that would accompany her response, but even knowing that it would come did not prepare her for the look of fury that flashed briefly through Leah's eyes.
"So you left her there. Just like your mother did." Leah's words were hard and cold, but she did not sound surprised. "Well." She walked over to the nearest chair and sat down, gesturing for Emma to do the same. "Then what are you doing here, if you cannot bring me news of my daughter?"
"I wanted to talk about the town," Emma replied, settling herself into a seat opposite Leah.
"If you have concerns, you should speak to your… parents," Leah answered. "They are the representatives from your kingdom." She paused, lips curling into a slight smile, "Well, Prince James is, at any rate."
Leah was baiting her, and Emma knew it, but she couldn't stop herself from snapping back, "And you had no right to lock up Mary Margaret. None at all."
"Actually…" Leah murmured. But she trailed off and didn't finish the thought.
After a moment of silence, Emma leaned forward and said, "I plan to resume my duties as sheriff, so I would like you to remove your people from the station."
"My people…? Ah, you mean the guards?" Leah interlaced her fingers and rested her hands on her lap. "No, I think not, Miss… Swan," she said serenely.
Emma shook her head angrily. "I'm the sheriff," she said. "I was elected."
"Yes – while people were cursed," Leah countered. "But the curse is broken now. We know who we are, we know where we come from, and there is no longer a need to cling to the rules put in place by the Evil Queen's curse." Her calm demeanor did not waver, though the gauntness of her face detracted from the composure she was attempting to convey. "Things are different now."
"No," Emma retorted, "they're not. This isn't your kingdom. We aren't in your world anymore."
"Our world," Leah corrected softly.
Emma ignored the comment. "This is Storybrooke, Maine," she said pointedly. "As in the United States of America. We aren't a monarchy here, and I was elected by the people."
Leah idly ran her fingers through her hair, flattening a few flyaway curls, and spoke in measured tones, "You are wrong if you believe that we are part of this new world." Her eyes slid sideways to the nearest covered window. "There is a line around this town that we cannot cross, and I sincerely doubt that Storybrooke exists in this world's official documents. We are nothing more than fairytales here – and I am still a queen." She smiled icily. "I lost quite a lot to the Evil Queen's curse, but I will not let her take this from me, too."
"What? Your power?"
"My identity."
"You locked up Ruby because you hate werewolves, and you locked up Mary Margaret because she and David were challenging you," Emma spat. "Is that the identity you are so desperate to protect?"
Leah's unruffled façade cracked, and when she spoke, her words shook with pent-up fury. "I arrested the wolf because she threatened Sir Maurice, and because the murder weapon was a knife from her grandmother's diner with her fingerprints all over it. Motive, means, and opportunity. And I arrested Snow because your darling wolf admitted that it was Snow who had helped her try to escape."
"Cora…" Emma started.
"Yes. Cora." Leah shook her head ruefully, eyes glittering maliciously. "Let's blame her for all our problems, shall we?" She heaved a weary sigh. "Honestly, I'm getting a bit tired of the same old excuses."
"Belle saw her kill Katherine!" Emma hissed, her blood boiling. She clenched her fingers into fists, feeling heat scorching her palms.
"Yes – and it's quite convenient that Belle doesn't have her memory anymore, isn't it?" Leah replied sarcastically. "So she can't come and tell me all this herself." She hesitated then, a cool smile curling her lips. "Not that I would be particularly inclined to trust someone who thinks there is good inside the Dark One."
Emma rubbed her hands on her pants, palms facing down. Static electricity crackled under her skin.
"I have been remiss in delaying their trials," Leah said, a hint of apology in her voice. "Other matters have taken my attention, but Sir Maurice deserves justice." She grimaced. "Once Charles and I have figured out who should have jurisdiction in this particular case," and she must have been referring to some private disagreement because Emma couldn't figure out why King Charles entered into this at all, "the trials will commence."
"No," Emma said sternly, "they won't."
Leah's eyes were hard and unsympathetic. "You can't stop me," she answered, then rose to her feet and turned away.
"I already did," Emma replied, standing as well.
Leah looked back sharply, eyes widening. It was the first sign of surprise she had shown during the meeting, and it somehow made the darkness of the under-eye circles and the paleness of her skin starker. If Emma hadn't been internally seething at Leah's careless dismissal of Ruby and Mary Margaret, she might have felt pity for the other woman's obvious exhaustion.
Emma saw the calculations going through Leah's mind; the list of possible ways Emma could have thwarted her, dismissing those that seemed unlikely, settling on the most obvious answer.
"You broke them out of jail?" she asked softly, dangerously. She laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "And you so desperately want to be sheriff? I thought sheriff's were supposed to uphold the law."
"I'm preventing injustice," Emma defended herself heatedly. "You don't get to condemn them for something they didn't do just because you want to."
"That is not what I did!" Leah shot back, face flushed with either anger or embarrassment.
"Isn't it? You keep dismissing all the other evidence people give you because it doesn't fit what you've already decided is true," Emma accused. She felt her anger rising rapidly, uncontrollably. Her vision shimmered, red encroaching at the edges. There was something twisting inside of her, uncoiling in her stomach, burning with rage.
"You think your mother is perfect? You have no idea about anything-" Leah took a threatening step forward.
A lamp behind her exploded.
Leah whirled around, jaw dropping, and when she looked back at Emma, there was a mixture of suspicion and fear in her gaze.
Emma stalked from the house.
"Francis won't let this happen," Leopold said reassuringly.
Eva frowned, gazing out the window at the forested hills. She had studiously avoided Cora for the past two days, ever since their confrontation that night on the balcony. And with the coronation celebrations ending in two days, she would be able to escape these dull confines and return to her kingdom.
A kingdom that Cora was threatening to destroy.
"Eva," Leopold rested a hand on her shoulder, scooting closer to her on the divan, "I promise you, we will not let this happen."
Eva glanced at him, and nodded. But the gesture was not one of agreement, or even acquiesce. It was rote, meaningless. She didn't believe him.
But meeting Leopold that night had been the one good thing to come from this disastrous trip. He, too, had been worried about Cora's influence and the way she might harm other kingdoms, and he and Eva had spent the last two days discussing the affairs of their respective lands. He was gentle and warm, despite his stern appearance, and quite knowledgeable.
"Francis knows that Cora will harm this kingdom in the long run," Leopold continued.
Eva shrugged. "But Blanche says that their kingdom is now so dependent on gold, she doesn't see how they can rid themselves of Cora's control. Besides," she smiled bitterly, "all the nobles flock around Cora, so I doubt Francis could expect any support from them."
"He will find a way," Leopold replied, his voice filled with a conviction that Eva thought to be, at best, completely naïve. "Who knows? Perhaps he will come up with something creative."
"Creative? Francis?" Eva scoffed.
"He's a better man than you give him credit for," Leopold chided gently, "and he will be a better ruler than anyone expects. And Cora – she'll see reason eventually. I am sure of it. Francis will bring her around."
Eva rose to her feet and stepped away from Leopold. He would occasionally say things like that, softly chiding, and it made her angry. She wanted to snap back at him, wanted to tell him he was so… so childlike in his trust. But she knew, instinctively, that she would not be able to get a rise out of him, that he would simply stare at her with that insufferable look of concern, as though she was the one who needed to be protected from the realities of the world.
Why couldn't he see the type of person Cora was? Was he really that much of a fool?
"I've upset you," Leopold said, frowning. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
"Oh, stop it," Eva snapped. "You don't understand. You don't know Cora."
"No," Leopold agreed, "I do not." He considered his words, then said carefully, "But I don't think she is so very different from anyone else."
Eva shook her head angrily, and said, "Cora is nothing like me." Why did she keep discussing this with Leopold? Why did she seek him out when all he did was aggravate her with his misplaced compassion? Why did she still feel so drawn to him?
"Her actions are… problematic," Leopold agreed, "but I think her motives are much more understandable." He paused again, thoughtfully, then proclaimed, "She is afraid."
"Afraid?" Eva echoed in disbelief. "She has everything. Power, wealthy, beauty. People to constantly fawn over her. What could she possibly be afraid of?"
"Ah, but she has only recently gained those things," Leopold replied. "I believe she is afraid of losing them. So she clings more tightly to her power, lashes out at anyone who won't bow to her desires."
"That is not an excuse," Eva snapped, but even as she said the words, she found herself wondering if Leopold was right. Had she misread Cora? Were Cora's exploits now more than simply an overreaction to Eva's earlier pettiness?
She chewed her lower lip.
There was some truth in his words, and Eva couldn't quite convince herself otherwise. Cora's actions, if truly based on fear as opposed to greed or simple cruelty, could be seen in an entirely different light.
"I agree," Leopold said gravely, "and I am not trying to excuse her behavior. She is deliberately trying to hurt the people of your kingdom, and through her own carelessness she will end up hurting the people of her own land."
"Yes!" Eva said firmly. "Exactly. My people aren't a threat to her, and she shouldn't use them as… as pawns."
"But perhaps she can be reasoned with," Leopold said. "The more I watch her, the more I think that, underneath everything, she is simply driven by fear. And if we could allay those fears…"
"And if that does not work?" Eva demanded impatiently. "If we cannot reason with her, if we cannot make her feel… safe?"
Leopold rose to his feet as well and crossed to Eva's side. Resting a hand on her shoulder once more, he said, "If Francis cannot bring her around, if we cannot help her see that this is not the way, then we will find a way to stop her. You are not alone, Eva. I want to protect my kingdom as much as you want to protect yours. We will not let Cora destroy us."
He left the room, and Eva watched him go in silence.
There was another way – but she still wasn't sure how she felt about Rumpelstiltskin's suggestion.
Henry was practically buzzing with excitement.
It was distracting to Regina, though she was pleased to see him showing any positive emotion after the past several days of morosely brooding. Of course, the fact that the positive emotion was for Emma stung – but not as much as she thought it might.
She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly.
Across the table, Emma restlessly tapped her fingers against her mug of coffee.
Henry took a bite of his sandwich.
This was the most awkward family lunch ever.
"Are you going to put the spell around the house again, Mom?" Henry asked suddenly, breaking into Regina's thoughts. Regina opened her eyes and looked at him, and he continued without taking a breath, "And if you're not, does this mean I can go back to school?"
"He hasn't been going to school?" Emma asked in surprise.
"I'm not sure about the spell yet, dear," Regina replied, ignoring Emma's question. "As for school, I am still deciding. For now, I think it would be better if you remained here until…"
"Or with me," Emma cut in. "He can stay with me."
Regina didn't reply immediately. If Emma wanted to take Henry, she would have little recourse.
Finally, she asked softly, "And where are you going to be staying, Miss Swan?"
"With David and Mary Margaret," Emma replied, as though any other suggestion was ridiculous.
"And when Leah and Stefan and their guards come for Miss Blanchard?" Regina pressed, leaning forward slightly. "What will you do then? Fight them off?"
Emma shrugged. "If I have to."
Regina glanced towards the window. By now, people would know that Emma was back – and that her first action had been to break Mary Margaret and Ruby out of prison, then get into an argument with Leah. How would the people of Storybrooke take that? How many would side with Emma, and how many would see this as merely an extension of her parents' selfish behavior?
How many would even care?
And what would Cora do?
Regina cleared her throat. "I don't believe you have thought this through all that well, Miss Swan," she said dryly. "It would be far better for Miss Blanchard to hide for now, as Miss Lucas is doing." She smiled coolly. "Perhaps she could join Miss Lucas in the woods?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "Ruby shouldn't have to be hiding in the woods, and I am not going to tell Mary Margaret to run from Leah and whoever else." She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her seat, eyeing Regina defiantly. "Only the guilty run."
"That might be the stupidest thing you've said yet, dear," Regina replied sweetly.
"Mom!" Henry protested unhappily.
"Let's have this conversation later," Emma suggested before Regina could think up a suitable reply to Henry's outburst. She smiled at Henry. "I'd rather hear all about what you've been doing since I've been gone. Did you read any good comic books?"
As Henry enthusiastically launched into his answer, Regina rose to her feet and began clearing the table. She only half-listened to her son's reply. She didn't want to know how happy he was to have Emma safely back in Storybrooke. She didn't want to see his smile, didn't want to watch his eyes light up with joy – didn't want to see any of those emotions knowing that they were meant for someone else.
It didn't sting as much as she had thought it would – but it still hurt.
Later, after the meal was over and Henry had begrudgingly gone upstairs, Regina leaned against the counter and studied Emma. The blonde had not wanted to send Henry away, had watched him depart with that desperate look in her eyes. But she had at least been smart enough to know that this conversation would be better without Henry there to listen to everything they had to say, and she'd reluctantly agreed with Regina.
"So… I believe you have been brought up-to-date?" Regina asked briskly.
Emma nodded. "Yeah. It's kind of a mess you have here. Things are really…" she floundered for the right word, "complicated. And… messy."
"Very eloquent," Regina drawled. Emma narrowed her gaze, and Regina felt a prickle run down her spine.
She had a feeling there were many things David hadn't told Emma; things he didn't know or things he didn't think were important. He might have mentioned Sidney's help, but would have been oblivious to the jarring strangeness in the one-time genie's behavior. He would have remembered that Cora currently had the storybook, but he didn't know about Henry's realization that the book seemed determined to present Regina as nothing but a villain.
He didn't know that Regina's uncle was living in the town; nor did he know that her loyal knights were here, possibly waiting to rejoin her.
And no doubt he had not conveyed Regina's words of caution about Emma's use of magic.
But what secrets of Regina's had he passed along with no thought to her own opinion on the matter? Emma must know about the curse Regina was carrying now, and about Gold's manipulations. Her hackles rose at the thought that Emma was privy to those parts of her life, parts that she didn't want anyone to know.
Biting down on her temper, she said coolly, "It is a mess. And I don't think your actions improved the situation any."
"I'm the sheriff…" Emma started irritably, but Regina cut her off.
"And you really need to stop assuming that your role as sheriff will hold weight any longer, dear."
Emma stared hard at Regina, then she said noncommittally, "We'll see," and changed the subject. "David says that your mother has remained mostly behind the scenes."
Regina nodded. "It's her favorite place to be – why do her own dirty work when she can watch the town destroy itself?" She pressed her hands into the counter, feeling the cool tiles against her skin. Her head was starting to pound; a dull, throbbing ache behind her eyes.
"Was she always like that?" Emma queried.
Regina gave a reluctant shrug. "As far back as I can remember, she's avoided the spotlight in favor of more subtle manipulation. But I don't know what she was like before…" She gave a grim smile, "well, before me." Emma accepted her words in silence, and Regina found herself asking a bit defensively, "Does it matter what she used to be like? We know what she is like now."
Emma didn't answer. Instead, she said flatly, "Henry should come live with me."
Regina tensed. Any argument she made now would fall on deaf ears – she knew Emma had already made up her mind on this, and Regina would find no support from anyone. But despite that, she had no intention of giving up her son without a fight.
"And when Leah and Stefan come for Miss Blanchard?" she said derisively. "You'll have him there to watch?"
Emma shook her head, dismissing the concern. "They won't-"
But Regina interrupted, suddenly furious. "Yes, Miss Swan, they will. They absolutely will, and you won't be able to stop them. Are you really so blind you can't see that?"
Emma stared at her, an unreadable look in her eyes. "So you're concerned about his safety?" she said finally, scathingly. "Is that it?"
"Yes," Regina spat through clenched teeth.
"Well, I don't see how he is any safer here," Emma countered coolly. Regina inhaled sharply, expecting a follow-up remark about her poor mothering skills or her disregard for any life other than her own, but Emma surprised her by saying, "That protective barrier would not have kept him safe from Cora."
Regina blinked. "No one could have…"
"I got through it," Emma pointed out irritably. "You keep saying it was fool-proof, but that's not true. If Cora neglected to break into your house, it wasn't because the spell kept her out."
"You think she chose not to attack?" Regina questioned. Her tone became cool, detached, polite venom dripping from her words. "Perhaps I'm working with her. Is that it, dear?"
Emma blinked, looking startled, and then she narrowed her eyes. "Don't be stupid," she snapped, frustrated. "Of course I don't think that." She paused for a moment, eyeing Regina, then said, "But your mother has a plan, and for some reason, it didn't involve coming after you or Henry."
"The magical barrier…"
"Could have been impacted by the curse you absorbed," Emma suggested, raising her voice over Regina's startled objection. "David told me about it – that it feeds on magic, hurts you the more you use your powers."
"Yes, I'm sure he was delighted to tell you all the details of my life," Regina scowled.
Spots of color appeared briefly on Emma's cheeks, but other than that involuntary reaction, she ignored Regina's comment and pressed on, "It could have decreased the strength of your magic, couldn't it?"
Regina ran a hand through her hair, annoyed that Emma thought she was in any way qualified to start making suggestions about how magic worked. She hadn't even believed in magic until a few weeks ago, and now she was offering ridiculous possibilities as though she was some sort of expert?
"How else do you explain my ability to…" Emma started, but Regina interrupted.
"I didn't set the spell on the prison cells, and you broke that, too. Or are you suggesting that Mother Superior is also impacted by a life-draining curse?"
Emma faltered, lapsed into silence.
Regina stared at her for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. "You really don't understand," she said tiredly. The anger that had flared a moment before had died down, leaving her far more exhausted than she wanted to admit. And the headache was growing.
"Don't understand what?" Emma demanded.
"You are stronger than my mother," Regina stated bluntly. "Stronger than Gold, than that insufferable fairy…" She didn't finish the thought, but the unsaid statement lingered in the silence between the two woman – Emma was stronger than Regina, too.
But Emma seemed unable or unwilling to accept Regina's words. She pressed her palms flat against the table, and stood up. "We need to figure out Cora's plan," she said, completely changing the subject once again.
Regina shrugged. "Good luck," she snapped.
Emma stepped around the table so that she was standing directly in front of Regina. "I'm not trying to start an argument…"
"Aren't you?" Regina interjected.
"…but we need to talk about this," Emma continued, as though Regina had not spoken.
"And what this would that be, dear?" Regina asked softly. "Your desire to take my son away? Your refusal to accept that the people in this town might not care that you are the sheriff? Or your determination to question my magic and ignore everything I say about your own?"
"Mary Margaret told me that Cora admitted to knowing about Daniel all along."
Whatever Regina had expected Emma to say, it was not that. She froze, hands now clenching the counter so tightly that her fingertips started to tingle with the loss of blood flow. The fury was back, stronger and more vicious than it had been before, pounding in her veins and tightening her chest.
"Don't you dare talk about him," she snarled.
"You have to face this, Regina," Emma argued. Her words were hard, uncompromising, and yet sympathetic. "Whatever Cora wants, it started a long time ago. We have to know – to understand – in order to have any chance of stopping her."
"Daniel is not…" Regina stopped abruptly, biting off the words. Anything she wanted to say was caught in her throat, threatening to choke her. Emma had no right to talk about this, to bring up Daniel's memory as though she knew anything about what had happened.
Slowly, Regina forced herself to release her grip on the counter.
"Regina, look-"
"No," Regina snarled. "No. You know nothing about Daniel, and you don't get to come into my home and tell me that I don't understand. I know perfectly well what happened."
"But if your mother wanted you to blame Mary Margaret – Snow – for Daniel's death, then obviously there is something there that you… that we… don't understand," Emma countered.
"Ah. Yes. Let's rush to absolve Snow. The darling princess couldn't have done anything wrong," Regina mocked, averting her gaze so that she didn't have to keep staring at that damnable pity in Emma's eyes.
Emma sighed heavily. "She was a child," she protested.
"Even children know how to keep secrets," Regina rejoined bitterly.
"But it wasn't a secret! Cora already knew," Emma shot back. "Whether Snow told or not, the outcome would have been the same! So Cora manipulated Snow for her own ends. She's good at that, isn't she? Using people?" When Regina didn't respond, Emma folded her arms over her chest, eyes hard and defiant. "And Mary Margaret has spent enough time feeling guilty for something that wasn't really her fault."
"Of course," Regina murmured thickly, "nothing is every really Snow's fault, is it?" She shook her head, a hollow laugh rising in her throat. "Perfect princess Snow, so beloved. Always so cherished, the center of attention, the only one in the room worth looking at."
"You were jealous because people looked at her?" Emma asked, sounding surprised. "I thought that whole fairest of them all thing was made up."
Emma's bewildered comment cleared Regina's mind. She was not going to spill all her past hurts to this woman. Emma, who so often claimed that she had been completely unloved throughout her whole childhood, who had no idea what it actually felt like to be completely alone.
"Very well, dear," she said coolly, composing her features into an expressionless mask. She looked back at Emma. "Since you already think you fully understand what happened, I don't see why we need to talk about this. I have no other information to offer you, and I assure you, I don't know why my mother would have so disliked Snow."
Emma frowned. "Had she ever met Snow before that day?"
Regina sidestepped Emma and walked around to the table, putting some more distance between them. She didn't like how close Emma had been standing, didn't like the feel of Emma's magic pressing against her.
"Not as far as I am aware."
"What of Snow's mother? Uh… Eva?"
Regina blinked, remembered dimly that Mary Margaret had claimed that Cora had admitted to targeting her because of something her mother had done.
"I don't know," she replied. "Perhaps before I was born? I don't remember…" she trailed off, lost in thought. But no matter how much she dwelled on the question, she simply couldn't find an answer. She had no memory of Snow's mother ever visiting them, and Cora had never mentioned the other woman.
And if Leopold had known Cora, wouldn't he have said something about it during the years he and Regina were married?
"So you've no idea at all why Cora would hate Eva or Snow?" Emma pressed.
She turned back to face Emma, shaking her head. "No," she said honestly, "I don't."
"A potion?"
Eva nodded reluctantly. Leopold could see the mixture of unease and defensiveness in her eyes, and wondered, not for the first time, why she was confiding in him. Their accidental acquaintance that night in the corridor had sparked an immediate emotional response in him – one that, in all honesty, had quite a bit to do with just how beautiful she was. But in getting to know her over the past few days, he found her rash, impetuous, often tactless.
And yet, somehow, she kept drawing him in. She had a fire that he found mesmerizing.
Eva had been pacing, but she paused now and fixed her gaze on him. "Rumpelstiltskin. Have you heard of him?"
Leopold inclined his head slightly, as much of an agreement as he was willing to give. "Rumors, mostly. Whispers. I never gave them much credence. But you say this man is real?"
Eva reached into the folds of her cloak and drew out a small vial. "Very real," she replied.
Leopold reached out his hand. "All the rumors that I have heard – well, he's clearly not to be trusted." He took the vial from her and studied it. It was small, weighed almost nothing in his hand, and was filled with clear liquid.
Eva chewed her lip. "I know. I think – well. I don't know. He appeared out of nowhere, came to me. He wants something, has some reason for not liking Cora."
"Did he say what the potion will do?" Leopold asked warily. He didn't like potions. Magic didn't bother him, but potions… potions were similar to poisons, underhanded and duplicitous and just… not honorable. Not kingly.
Eva sat down next to him on the window seat. "He said it will show her true colors," she answered. Leopold frowned at that, and she rushed on, "He promised it wasn't a poison. It won't kill her, won't even make her sick." She fiddled with the material of her skirt, edgy, restless. "I don't want to kill her. I don't even really want to hurt her. But if she won't change…" She trailed off uncomfortably. "I just wish people could see her for what she truly is."
"People do see her for what she is," Leopold countered. "She doesn't hide it."
Eva met his gaze, her eyes filled with frustration. "But she does. She… people know she is manipulative, ambitious. But they don't know, don't see, how vindictive she is. How cruel. How… how petty." She gave a low, bitter laugh. "That side of her she shows only to me."
Leopold shook his head. "She shows it to Francis and Blanche, too," he said, heaving a sigh. He rested a hand on Eva's arm, hoping to offer some comfort. He knew how hard this was on her, knew that she felt she was responsible for Cora's actions regarding her parents' kingdom… although he wasn't really sure why.
And there was some truth in what Eva said – Cora was particularly nasty to only a handful of people, including Eva.
On a whim, he asked, "Why does she hate you so much?"
"Because she's malicious?" Eva snapped immediately, flushing darkly. She pulled away from him. "Because she's cruel? Because she's jealous?"
"But it seems… personal," Leopold pressed, and the moment he'd said the words, he saw the mixture of fury and guilt flash through Eva's eyes. He waited, watching her, watching as she averted her eyes and continued twisting her fingers around the fabric of her dress.
"Oh… fine," she said finally, huffing. "I tripped her. She was carrying something – flour, I believe. And I tripped her and she fell and dropped it all, and then I made her apologize for getting flour on me." She gave Leopold a look that was half-defiant, half-pleading, and said, "She's trying to destroy my parents' kingdom, ruin the lives of all the people who live in it! And for what? Revenge because I tripped her?"
Leopold accepted her explanation in silence, mulling it over. Although he could understand why Cora might harbor a grudge for Eva's behavior – and clearly Eva had been in the wrong then, and there was no excuse for it – Cora's reaction now seemed to be disproportionate to the actual crime.
He thought of his earlier assertion, his belief that Cora was driven primarily by fear. Did she fear Eva? Were her reprisals now a way of protecting herself against the future?
"Have you apologized to her?" Leopold asked finally.
Eva looked at him, dumbfounded. "Of course not. She's… she's… you know what she is now. Why would I…"
"Obviously her behavior now is… troublesome," Leopold murmured diplomatically, "but you were wrong then. Perhaps if you apologized, she would let go of the grudge. Let go of the fear."
Eva laughed mockingly. "Do you really think that?" she challenged.
"I'd like to give her the chance," Leopold said stubbornly. "It's better to resolve differences than to try to destroy the opponent."
"And if the differences can't be resolved?" Eva demanded. She leaned forward, and she said passionately, "I know why Cora hates me, though this is quite an overreaction. But she's hurting everyone. Your kingdom is suffering, too. And what reason does she have to grasp for your power other than the fact that she's decided she wants it?"
"Give her the chance," Leopold insisted stubbornly, unwilling to accept that there was some truth in Eva's words.
"Fine," Eva acquiesced, albeit a bit reluctantly. "I will give her the chance. I will apologize. And when she ignores that and tries to destroy us all… I plan on fighting for my parents' kingdom, Leopold. Are you going to fight for yours?"
Emma pushed open the door to the diner. It was busy, filled with the sounds of laughter and quarrels and all the other things Emma hadn't realized she'd missed. How strange it was, that this felt right, felt like she belonged. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that way before Storybrooke.
She glanced around, her eyes wandering over the scene, pausing briefly on each of the people that she knew.
Granny was standing behind the counter, pouring a cup of coffee for a customer. Archie Hopper – Jiminy Cricket, oh, God, he was actually a bug – was sitting in the nearest booth, his nose in the newspaper. Leroy – Grumpy – and a nun Emma didn't recognize were having an awkward conversation at a nearby table. Dr. Whale was sitting by himself at the opposite end of the diner, staring out the window with a blank expression on his features. And all around her, people she didn't recognize – fairytale characters – were going about their business as though this was just another normal day.
She sighed, and then turned to smile at Henry. "Come on, I'll buy you some hot chocolate," she offered with a grin.
Henry returned her grin and headed towards the counter.
The rest of the conversation with Regina had gone as predicted, with Regina falling back into cool politeness and sarcasm, and Emma unable to keep her temper from occasionally flaring. She'd learned nothing more, but they'd at least parted on… well, not amicable terms, but they hadn't been threatening each other, either.
Emma followed Henry, watching him with a curious frown. His behavior towards Regina now did not match up with how he had acted before. It wasn't just that he'd asked Regina for permission before visiting Mary Margaret in prison last night, he'd also hugged her before leaving this afternoon. Maybe a hug between parent and child didn't mean much in most circumstances, but between Regina and Henry…
Emma hadn't missed the look of relief on Regina's features as Henry had hugged her goodbye. Clearly even Regina hadn't expected that.
"Emma," Archie said, looking up and noticing her. He smiled, folding the newspaper and rising from the booth. "I heard you were back. It's good to see you," and Emma was surprised when he enveloped her in a hug.
"You, too," she replied. She returned the hug, but even she could tell it was an gracelessly stiff movement. She wasn't used to this – to being missed.
"We've been worried about you," Archie continued. "Ever since Mary Margaret returned… alone."
Emma nodded. "I appreciate the concern," she replied. "It was… challenging… in your fairytale land. But I've been more worried about what's going on here."
Archie nodded somberly and followed her to the counter. "I know," he agreed. "It's been quite…" but he didn't seem to know how to finish the thought, and lapsed into an uneasy silence.
Granny slid a hot chocolate – complete with whipped cream and cinnamon – across the counter to Emma. "One for you, and one for Henry," she said with a warm smile. "Welcome home." As Emma started to fish for her wallet, Granny waved her off, and said, "It's on the house."
Emma raised an eyebrow, but accepted the gesture for what it was – a thank you for helping Ruby. She took a sip of the hot chocolate and closed her eyes, savoring the taste. The flavors seemed stronger, more intense.
"Nice not eating something you had to kill first, huh?" Granny said in amusement. "Meat loaf back home? What a bitch."
Emma opened her eyes and laughed in agreement. Then she glanced around and, lowering her voice, asked, "Is Ruby somewhere safe?"
Granny nodded. "She'll be fine." She hesitated for a moment, grimacing in distaste, then added, "She can take care of herself while we take care of Leah and Stefan and the others."
"I'll get the sheriff's station back," Emma said firmly. "And then we'll sort out this mess."
"What mess?" a new voice asked.
Emma glanced over and noticed an older man sitting on the other side of Henry, listening to their conversation. He had black hair, streaked with silver, and weathered, weary features. But his eyes were sharp and clear and focused on Emma with an unnerving intensity.
Emma didn't recognize him, but, of course, there were plenty of people in this town she didn't know.
And with that thought, she realized she should probably figure out just how many people lived in Storybrooke and who they were. The town had to have a census somewhere… right?
"Just working out the details of governance in the town, now that the curse is broken," Emma said to the stranger. "I'm Emma Swan. I don't believe we've met?"
"Richard," the man said gruffly, and reached across Henry to shake Emma's hand. But his next words made her tense, "What kind of government are you planning for us?"
His tone was disgruntled, bordering on accusatory.
"The same one you had before," Emma replied evenly. "A sheriff, a mayor, and whatever else is needed."
"I see." Richard looked down at his hamburger and fries, his expression hidden from Emma. But his tone was still annoyed. "And I suppose you plan on being the sheriff?"
"Well… I was elected," Emma said pointedly.
At that, Richard gave her an incredulous look. "Yes," he said sardonically. "You were. While we were all under a curse, unaware of who we truly were. Does that actually count?"
The diner had grown silent, and Emma was now acutely aware that all eyes were on her. Henry squirmed slightly in the seat next to her, his eyes reflecting her own concern. She didn't want another confrontation like the one with Leah, didn't want to lose control of her temper – or her magic – again.
Richard continued, "I listened to Prince James stand at the town line and say that he was two people – James and David. He said that we were all both." He shook his head firmly, angrily. "He's wrong. We're not both. I'm not both. I'm Richard, the person I was born as. I'm not the person the Evil Queen wanted me to be, not the identity she so generously bestowed upon me. And anything I did while under the curse…" He shrugged, said with distaste, "I might have to live with it all, but it doesn't mean that I have to keep being that person."
"I'm not asking you to be that person," Emma said, wondering briefly who his cursed personality had been. "I'm just…"
"Asking me to abide by the vote I cast while I was that person," Richard interjected. "Even if I think differently now that I remember who I am."
"You don't want me as sheriff?" Emma questioned, surprised and strangely hurt. Unsure what else to say, she offered tentatively, "I guess we could have new elections. I could be interim sheriff until we can elect…"
"Or we could not have a sheriff at all," Richard cut her off.
"My mom – Emma – she's a great sheriff," Henry said, sticking up for Emma and staring at Richard with narrowed eyes. "And she's the Savior. You can trust her. You have to trust her."
Emma ruffled his hair. "Thanks, kid," she murmured. Then she turned to Richard. "Let me guess," she said dryly, "you want to reinstate the royalty. What were you, some nobleman? Used to some grand manor and servants?"
He stared at her. "I am a widowed candle maker," he answered softly. "I lived in a two-room cottage on the outskirts of a village with my daughter and son-in-law. I've never been in a grand manor, never had servants." He drummed his fingers on the counter, his eyes taking on a distant look. "It wasn't an easy life, but it was mine. I want it back. I want to go back."
"I understand that," Emma said gently, and tried to ignore the way Richard scoffed at her words, "but there are good things here. Medicine. Computers." She glanced at Granny with a slight grin, "Food you don't have to kill first. Even electricity." She hesitated, then added, "You've lived here for twenty-eight years, even if you didn't age. This is your home, too."
"No, it isn't," Richard said harshly. "Maybe I did live here for twenty-eight years. What of it? I lived in the Enchanted Forest for sixty-two years. And for all of those sixty-two years, I knew who I was. I wasn't under some curse, forced to be someone different so that a woman I'd never met could have her twisted revenge against another woman I'd never met."
Emma exhaled slowly, but that did little to cool her temper. She understood Richard's feelings, understood that Regina had destroyed a lot of lives and had a lot to answer for. But dwelling on that was not productive, and they had other problems to deal with at the moment.
"Well, we can't go home right now," she snapped. "And even if we could, your home has probably been destroyed by ogres." She was well aware that it was unfair to spring something like this on him so abruptly, but she didn't care that he didn't like Storybrooke. They were all stuck here for the time being, and they had to make the best of it. Which meant accepting a sheriff and a mayor and getting this town back under control so that they could face Cora.
"Don't you think whether or not we go back is a decision we should all have a say in?" Richard challenged. "Or have you decided to make it for us all? And we should accept it because you say so?"
"That's not fair!" Henry interjected again, sounding upset. "She's trying to keep everyone safe and keep the town running right now."
Richard stared at him, then shrugged. "I'm not saying we shouldn't have a sheriff. Or royalty. Or whatever. I'm just saying we shouldn't be forced to stay in Storybrooke, shouldn't be forced to accept what the curse gave us. We remember now."
Emma wasn't sure what to say to that, and the murmurs of agreement running through the diner only made her unease grow.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dr. Whale exit the diner.
Rose watched as her daughter and Leopold spoke softly, heads bent together.
She could not have foreseen this consequence of coming to the coronation, but she was glad of it all the same. Leopold would be good for Eva, could calm her temper and lighten her moods and, most importantly, push her towards those most important virtues of compassion and benevolence.
For Rose was under no delusions about her daughter; she knew that Eva had a good heart, but also knew that it was often hidden underneath vanity and self-absorption. Leopold could coax out the part of her that truly did care about others – and in return, Eva could teach Leopold a thing or two about how to stand up for himself. The man was far too conciliatory and appeasing to be a good ruler for long.
She smiled, satisfied, and turned to her husband, "This is going well."
He gave her a blank look. "What is?" and when she gestured towards Leopold and Eva, he frowned and asked, "What about them?"
"They've been spending a lot of time together," Rose said knowingly.
"Have they? I had not noticed that…" he trailed off, gave his wife a surprised look as he realized what she was implying, and turned sharply to stare at his daughter. "Are they…?"
"I don't think Eva has quite figured it out yet," Rose said indulgently. "Perhaps Leopold hasn't, either. But yes… I rather think they are starting to fall for each other."