Chapter Forty: Take It Back
Berkeley was waiting by her car.
Regina paused on the sidewalk, car keys in hand. She hadn't seen him since before Emma's return, and although she had tasked the knight with spying on Stefan and Leah, in the chaos that had followed the blonde's abrupt appearance, she'd forgotten all about him.
"Berkeley," she said, moving to stand next to her car.
"Your Majesty," he replied politely, inclining his head. He gazed at her, his eyes hard and sharp. "We have been following King Stefan and Queen Leah as you instructed."
"We?" Regina repeated softly, raising an eyebrow. She leaned against her car, studying him. The unease she'd felt at their first meeting had returned. But this time she understood her suspicions a bit better, and proceeded cautiously, "I didn't realize there were others involved."
"I am not the only knight still loyal to you," Berkeley answered. "There are others who want to help."
Regina nodded and let the matter drop. She could find out who they were easily enough, if it ever became necessary. But for the moment, she would assume that whichever knights Berkeley had enlisted were adept enough to avoid being noticed, and loyal enough to do her bidding.
She trusted her knights – trusted them to look after their own interests first and foremost. And they all knew that betraying her was never in their best interests.
She glanced behind her at the mayoral mansion. She'd spent another long night alone with too many empty rooms. Dinner with Henry had helped keep the loneliness at bay, at least in part, but she'd left before Emma had returned, once more giving her son over to his biological family.
The thought was bitter, and left a sour taste in her mouth.
Turning her focus back to Berkeley, she admonished coolly, "You were supposed to report back to me more frequently than this."
"There was nothing to report," Berkeley explained defensively. "Nothing worthwhile, anyway. They have mostly kept to themselves, except for occasional meetings with other royalty." He scratched at his eyebrow. "King Stefan talked to Whale, though. Showed up at the hospital a few times."
Regina silently mulled over that information. It meant something, though she had no idea what. She didn't trust Whale – couldn't, wouldn't, not after what he had done – but she couldn't figure out what use he would have for Stefan. Or what use Stefan would have for him.
It was a very unlikely partnership, but if they'd met several times…
"Thank you," she murmured, turning to her car.
"There's one other thing," Berkeley said slowly. He hesitated, looking torn, and Regina folded her arms over her chest and leveled a threatening glare at him. She hadn't asked for his help, but now that he had offered it, she would not allow him to withhold pertinent information.
"Yes?" she prompted.
"Queen Leah had an argument with King George," Berkeley said. "I don't know what it was about, but it got heated. He stormed out of the town hall two days ago, your Majesty, and we haven't seen him since."
Normally, an argument such as this would bring Regina some relief. If Leah was wasting energy on George, then that was energy she didn't have to fight Regina. But… Regina could not help but wonder about the cause of the argument, and about George's next actions. The man had always been rash – but he'd never been someone to underestimate.
She ran a hand through her hair, weighing her options. Berkeley was watching her closely, waiting for her orders.
"Find him," she instructed finally. "But do not approach. When you know where he is, contact me. I will speak to him myself."
Her relationship with George had always been complicated, but not necessarily antagonistic. He wouldn't like the fact that she appeared to be siding with David in Storybrooke, but he might believe that this was simply a ploy, that she was biding her time, waiting to attack. Their mutual hatred of the Charming couple had brought them together in the past, and she can use that now to further her own ends.
Berkeley nodded. "As you wish," he said. He smiled, lips stretching tightly across his face. "Anything else, your Majesty?"
He'd waited for weeks to approach Regina after the curse had initially broken, and waited a long time to report on his activities. She knew what he was doing, and she could have kicked herself for not realizing it the last time they'd spoken. At least she could console herself with the knowledge that she'd sensed something was off, even if she hadn't understood what it meant.
Berkeley was playing both sides. He kept delaying his actions, approaching her in secret, offering only bits and pieces of his loyalty. He was waiting to see who won. If she came out ahead, he would be the loyal knight who offered his services when everyone else doubted her ability to win. If she lost, there would be no proof that he had been assisting her, and even if someone suspected him, it wasn't like any of the information he was providing was all that detrimental. He could claim that he'd been trying to regain her trust in order to betray her, and since he hadn't actually hurt anyone at her command, the others might believe him.
Mary Margaret probably would, if he could convince her that he deserved a second chance.
Still, Regina doubted he would outright betray her. Not while she still retained even a fraction of her power. That was not a risk he would be willing to take.
Although she was a bit tempted to order him to kill someone, just to see what he'd do when forced to cross a line the other royalty wouldn't so easily forgive.
Except, of course, that ordering people's deaths was wrong, and she wasn't supposed to be doing that anymore.
"No," she said dismissively, waving him away, "that will be all."
Berkeley nodded his head again, and walked away. She leaned against the car, her eyes following him until he turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.
Neither of them had realized they were being watched.
Emma tapped her fingers on the counter and watched as Granny bustled about the diner, wiping down the tables and fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers. The older woman seemed oblivious to Emma's stare, though Emma herself could pick up every detail in Granny's movements, from the slight tremor in her hands to the way the lines around her eyes deepened each time the door opened. She was worried about Ruby, frustrated that her granddaughter was hiding in the woods while she was helpless to do anything about it.
She was projecting those emotions for the entire world to see – although Emma was the only one who noticed. Was no one else interested, the blonde wondered, or was it just less evident to them?
The door opened and Granny looked up, her expression hardening around the edges.
Emma swiveled on her stool.
"Miss Swan," Regina greeted her as she strode purposefully across the floor. She set her purse on the counter and took the seat next to Emma. "I received your text."
Emma curled her fingers around the cup of coffee. The heat seeped through the cheap Styrofoam and into her palm, but she barely felt it. She always had coffee in the morning, but today she didn't want it. The smell was overpowering, and her nerves were already shot without adding caffeine to her bloodstream.
She pushed the coffee away.
Regina tilted her head to the side, studying Emma with a faint frown. She was upset, distressed – and afraid.
"Miss Swan?" Regina prompted, now irritated. "I haven't got all day."
"I spoke to your uncle last night," Emma said. "He told me about Cora's history with Snow's mother."
She'd discussed Christian's revelations with Mary Margaret and David, both of whom seemed to think that everything was now obvious. Cora clearly wanted revenge on Eva for what she had done, and had used Regina to target Snow. But Emma didn't think it was quite that simple. There was something wrong with the analysis, something missing, if only she could figure out what it was.
"I assume it was not a pleasant history?" Regina said sardonically.
"No, it was decidedly not," Emma answered, "though your mother has clearly spun it around to convince herself that she was an innocent victim."
Regina pursed her lips. "I doubt my mother has ever considered herself a victim," she countered. "Allowing oneself to become a victim is weak."
Emma frowned. It was hardly weakness to survive being at someone else's mercy, but Emma doubted that was something that Cora – or even Regina – truly understood.
"Well," Emma said at last, "she convinced herself that Eva was the villain."
Regina's lips curled into a smirk. "Now that I can believe." She gazed at Emma intently. "What exactly did my uncle tell you?"
Emma glanced across the diner before answering, not wanting to be overheard. Perhaps she was being paranoid – definitely she was being paranoid – but they'd all learned the hard way that Cora should not be underestimated. Who knew how many townspeople she had bribed, threatened, or coerced into doing her bidding?
Granny was busy serving a young couple that Emma didn't recognize, and several other strangers sat at the various tables drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and reading the newspaper. A few people darted occasional wary glances towards Regina, but no one was close enough to be eavesdropping.
Emma frowned. "Is Sidney still running the newspaper?"
Regina raised an eyebrow as she followed Emma's gaze. "I'm not sure," she said slowly. "He wasn't for a while… but he might be now." She shrugged indifferently. "Anyway, it's not like the paper can't run without him."
"Huh," Emma replied. It made sense, of course. The town had to continue, even with the curse broken. Dr. Whale and his currently operating hospital were proof enough of that.
She wondered vaguely what stories the newspaper published now. Destroyed pirate ship appears outside harbor? Would-be law student's heart ripped out by homicidal lunatic? Arson destroys home? Crazed mob attacks the town hall? Or perhaps something more mundane – Library opens for the first time in twenty-eight years?
Her thoughts wandered to Belle. Had anyone bothered to lock up the library now that Belle was no longer running it?
"Miss Swan?" Regina prompted impatiently, her words cutting into Emma's thoughts. "We were talking about my uncle."
"Right." Emma focused back on Regina. "Did you know that your father used to be a prince?"
Regina's expression went entirely blank. Not the type of expressionless façade someone dawns when trying to lie, but actually blank, as though she was unable to process what Emma was saying. She opened her mouth in protest, but then snapped it shut and gestured for Emma to continue, apparently deciding to see how the story ended before contradicting it.
"Your mother was a peasant who married a prince, and you were born a princess," Emma explained, "but by the time you were one, Cora had been banished from court for threatening her brother-in-law, the king."
"And Eva was involved?" Regina asked.
Emma nodded. "Your uncle was vague on the details, though I believe Gold – Rumplestilskin – was involved as well."
Christian had given her only a brief outline, refusing to discuss anything in detail. No amount of cajoling or threatening had convinced him to elaborate beyond what little he was willing to divulge, a fact that had annoyed Emma greatly.
It still annoyed her. She knew Christian was keeping his mouth shut out of fear of Cora and reluctance to dwell on the past – two emotions Emma could begrudgingly understand. But still… he'd insisted several times that the details weren't important, and maybe they weren't, but Emma did not like being left in the dark.
Didn't he know that keeping secrets would only give Cora the upper hand? She'd already taken so much from them, pushed the town towards the brink of chaos…
"Miss Swan!" Regina's hand clamped down on Emma's arm. Her touch was scalding, like boiling water, and Emma jerked away, nearly falling off the stool.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"What am I doing?" Regina retorted, eyebrows raised. "Look at your hands!"
Emma glanced down. Her hands were glowing faintly, a white aura surrounding her fingers. The counter had ripples in it as though it had melted, and the Styrofoam cup of coffee had disintegrated completely. Dark brown liquid slid over the counter and dribbled to the floor.
Shocked, Emma spun around in her seat. Every single customer in the diner was staring at her, a mixture of awe, confusion, and fear in their gazes.
The blonde swallowed back her own trepidation and offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. As though she could pass this off as a mere accident, something completely normal and not at all concerning.
Regina waved a hand and the coffee and mess of soggy Styrofoam disappeared. She touched a finger to the countertop, frowning, and a moment later the surface smoothed out. To Emma, she hissed under her breath, "You need to keep your temper under control."
"My temper?" Emma shot back. "Oh, that's a good one." Regina had no right to complain about other people's tempers. After all, she'd destroyed an entire world in a fit of rage against Snow.
"You need to get your magic under control," Regina said, her voice still low, nearly a whisper.
"I'm working on it," Emma snapped. She took a slow, steady breath, willing her racing heart to slow down. Regina looked like she was about to say something else, but Emma cut her off, "I'm fine. Leave it alone, Regina."
The spontaneous use of magic unnerved – frightened – her, but she didn't want Regina's help. She didn't want anyone's help. She'd never been good at accepting assistance, at accepting that people actually wanted to help her. Foster care drove all the trust out of her, and then Henry's father…
No. She would not think about him.
Regina seemed to bring out the worst in her, and the worst was the part that kept shooting magic out of her fingers. She doubted talking to the brunette would help.
Regina glowered but said nothing. After a moment of tense silence, she muttered, "My uncle was not royalty when I knew him."
"No." Emma rubbed at her eyes. "The kingdom fell apart after your mother was banished. Christian was vague on those details, too – but he said that it was absorbed by Leopold's kingdom, and all the people in the kingdom believed Eva was responsible for saving them from war."
Regina tapped her fingers on the counter, a slow smile curling her lips. "And then I marry Leopold," she mused, "and I become queen of the very land my mother was forced out of." She glanced at Emma. "She must have found that poetic."
Emma hadn't considered that turn of fate, but now that Regina mentioned it… Yes, Cora would have enjoyed that immensely.
Unfortunately, the mention of Regina's marriage to Leopold brought up a topic Emma wanted to avoid. Normally she'd have no problem discussing Daniel's death and the role Snow had played – or, really, hadn't played – in Cora's actions, but the blonde still felt unsteady from her display of spontaneous magic. An argument with Regina would only annoy her further, and the last thing she needed was to lose control of her magic again. In public.
And any mention of Daniel would result in an argument.
She rubbed at her eyes. They both knew that Cora had manipulated everyone, including Snow. She'd wanted Regina to hate her young stepdaughter. As long as she didn't mention Daniel, didn't mention that Cora would have killed the stable boy regardless of Snow's actions, she could still make her point without the conversation devolving into a fight.
Cautiously, she said, "David thinks that your mother manipulated things so that you would become queen and kill Snow. To get revenge on Eva."
Regina tilted her head to the side and regarded Emma, "You don't sound convinced."
"I don't know," Emma admitted. "It just… it seems too… I don't know." She shrugged helplessly. "I can't explain it. It just doesn't feel right. Your mother could have killed Snow. Why would she use you to do it? I mean, I know you said that she doesn't like to get her hands dirty, but she ripped out Katherine's heart, so clearly she doesn't mind doing it if necessary."
"And why would she wait until after Eva was dead?" Regina added. "She didn't need me to be queen, should could have killed Snow whenever she wanted. She had magic. If she wanted to hurt Eva, wouldn't it make more sense to kill her daughter while Eva was still alive?"
"And, if her endgame was Snow's death, why didn't she kill Mary Margaret in the sheriff's station?" Emma finished, shaking her head. Regina didn't have an answer, and Emma said after a moment of silence, "At least we have some idea of why she hates Eva. Christian said that Eva was responsible for Cora's banishment, and then ended up being revered as the hero of the story."
Regina exhaled slowly. "Unfortunately, that doesn't tell us what her next move will be." Again, they were quiet, and when it was clear that there was nothing more to say on the subject, Regina asked, "How's Henry doing?"
"Alright, I guess," Emma replied, smiling wanly. "This morning Mary Margaret was helping him with some of his schoolwork. He said it wasn't fair – he got all of the work without actually being able to go to school. He misses his friends."
Regina furrowed her brow. "Really?" At Emma's surprised look, she explained, "I know he misses his classmates, but he never… he never referred to them as friends." She smiled a bit sadly. "I'm glad he has some now."
Emma nodded, and reflected idly that it was actually kind of nice to have a civil conversation with Regina.
But civil didn't last long.
Later that afternoon as she walked with Henry to the library, curiosity having gotten the better of her – she really did want to know if the place was still open now that Belle had no idea who she was – two men in black jeans and black leather jackets came storming out of the shadows, pointing guns at her.
Emma reacted immediately, shoving Henry behind her and turning to face her assailants. The street was mostly empty, the sky threatening snow, and the few townspeople who had braved the cold weather saw the guns and immediately fled the scene.
Emma felt an irrational resentment that none of them had stayed to help.
"We don't want to hurt you," the taller of the two assailants said. He took a slow step forward, his dark eyes narrowed dangerously, his gun still trained on Emma. He was tall, over six feet, with a broad, muscular build. He would have been hard to beat in a fair fight – and he had a gun. It wasn't a fair fight.
Of course, Emma had magic.
"Just hand over the boy, Sheriff, and we'll let you go unharmed."
Anger flared like an inferno in Emma's stomach. "Hand over my son?" she snarled, fury making her voice shake and her vision shimmer red. She could feel the heat building in her palms, feel the creep of magic through her veins.
"No harm will come to him," the taller one continued. Emma didn't recognize him. Could he be someone Cora had convinced to do her bidding? Or perhaps Cora had control of his heart?
"You're pointing a gun at me," Emma retorted incredulously, "and demanding my son, and I am supposed to believe you don't mean him any harm?" She wrapped her fingers around Henry's arm, needing to physically reassure herself that he was behind her and out of harm's way.
She needed to think. She didn't want this to end in violence. But these men were threatening Henry.
"Please don't make us hurt you," the shorter one said.
Emma turned to him with a cold smile, the power building in her stomach, her chest, making her feel strong. The air around her hummed with the intensity of her magic. "Oh, don't worry – you're not going to hurt me." She paused, her gaze flicking back and forth between the two men. "And you're not going to take Henry."
"You can't win!" Henry added, sticking his head out from behind Emma. "My mom is stronger than you. Both my moms are stronger than you!"
The shorter assailant laughed callously. "That's cute, kid – but do you really think they're on the same side?"
Emma could practically feel Henry's confusion, and it took her a moment to understand the implication of the man's statement. Then she said in numb surprise, "Regina sent you?"
The taller one spun around to glare at his companion. "Fool," he hissed. "You weren't supposed to let her know!" He shook his head, and growled, "Now we're going to have to kill her."
Emma swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth. She should have seen it coming. Of course Regina would play nice with Emma and Mary Margaret and David when she didn't have a choice, but that didn't mean she wasn't still scheming to regain her power. Whatever she was playing at now, her end goal was clear enough – reclaim Henry and kill his biological family.
Well. Emma was not going stand idly by and allow that to happen.
The larger assailant swung back to face her once more, but to Emma it seemed as though he was moving incredibly slowly. Before he could point his gun at her, she'd dropped Henry's arm and lifted both of her hands. A bright light – pure white and burning with intensity – burst from her hands and crackled into the air. The two men went flying backwards, tossed aside like they were rag dolls.
"Emma? Emma? Mom?"
There was a humming in her ears, a buzzing noise that drowned out all other sound. But Henry's voice drifted through the haze, and Emma blinked to clear her muddied thoughts.
"It's okay, Henry," she said, turning to him with a reassuring smile. "You're safe, and I'm going to take care of this."
And she was going to take care of this. She'd figure out what Regina was planning and who else the Evil Queen had on her side even if she had to tear apart Storybrooke to do it. Was it possible that Regina was working with Cora and lying to them all about it? It seemed unlikely, but at that moment Emma wouldn't have put anything past the other woman.
"But… but…"
"I need to take you back to Mary Margaret," Emma said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and striding determinedly back the way they had come. "The library can wait."
Henry stopped walking, digging his heals into the cement and shrugging out of Emma's grip. "No," he said. "No, Mom, stop. Stop."
Emma faced him, frowning at his stubborn expression.
"She wouldn't do this," Henry said, folding his arms over his chest and giving Emma a defiantly mulish look. He glanced over his shoulder at the two unconscious men. "She's not behind this."
Emma sighed and reached out to grip Henry's shoulder. "I know you don't want to believe it, Henry. I know it hurts," she murmured sympathetically. "But you heard what they said. Regina did this, tried to take you away, but I'm going to stop her."
Henry's face had gone nearly sheet-white, she noted, and his shoulders shook underneath her grip. He looked so upset, so hurt, so betrayed, and that only made Emma angrier. How dare Regina do this to her own son? After all the faith Henry had put in her, after his continual insistence that she had changed, how could Regina just throw it away?
Henry chewed his lip. "Then they're lying," he said desperately. "Or maybe someone lied to them. Maybe someone pretended to be my mom. But she wouldn't do this. She wouldn't."
Emma hesitated. She wanted to reassure Henry that everything was going to be alright, but she didn't like lying to him. Nothing was going to be alright.
"Mom, please. Just think about it," Henry begged softly. "Talk to my mom before you do anything. Listen to what she says."
Emma nodded reluctantly. "Alright," she finally. "I will. I promise."
Except she didn't, because by the time they made it back to the apartment, everything had changed.
Mary Margaret rapped her knuckles against the open door of the bedroom and asked softly, "Can I come in?"
Emma glanced up from where she sat on her bed, staring down at the ruins of her red leather jacket. She shrugged halfheartedly. She didn't really want to talk to anyone, but she doubted Mary Margaret would leave her alone… and, anyway, it was better than having to talk to David or Regina.
At least conversations with Mary Margaret weren't awkward or strained, and usually didn't result in her destroying things.
"You know," Mary Margaret said, taking a seat next to her on the bed, "if you're really attached to red leather, you can probably buy a new one."
Emma shook her head. "It's just a jacket," she said, even though it had always been so much more than that. She tossed it aside in a would-be careless manner, and, touching the coat she was currently wearing, said, "Blue leather is fine."
But she doubted her blasé attitude was fooling her mother.
"When I left the palace after my father died," Mary Margaret said – and Emma thought bitterly that she was far too casual in discussing being forced out of her own home because Regina had murdered her father and was trying to kill her – "I was wearing this beautiful white cloak with pink flowers on it. It was one of my favorites. It had belonged to my mother, and I always felt closer to her when I wore it. It made me feel strong." She paused, gazing thoughtfully at the red jacket. "Of course, it was one of the first things I lost. It was too impractical to wear while constantly fleeing from Regina's guards."
"And you were devastated because losing it made you feel like you weren't yourself anymore," Emma said, rolling her eyes at how extraordinarily predictable this tale was. "But then you discovered that you were still you, even without the cloak."
Mary Margaret gave her a bemused look.
Emma shrugged. "It was kind of obvious where you were going with that story," she said dryly. "And don't worry – I'm not sitting alone in my room pouting over a ruined jacket."
"Oh, I know," Mary Margaret replied. "I assumed you were sitting alone in your room pouting over what happened this afternoon with those two men." At Emma's inquiring look, she explained, "Henry told me a little bit about it." A pause, then, "Do you want to tell me your version of events?"
Emma looked down at her hands. They were no longer glowing white, no longer tingling with magic. In fact, she felt nothing at all – only tired. Only drained.
She wasn't sure she could explain it. She had acted without thinking, tossing aside those two men like they were nothing. And, fine – they had threatened her, threatened Henry, and she'd only been protecting herself. But she'd still acted in anger, and in the moment, the anger had been controlling her.
And then she'd been so sure that Regina was complicit in the attack. There had been no logic in her thinking. In fact, she hadn't thought. She'd acted on emotion and an overwhelming desire to protect Henry, to protect her parents, from everything.
By the time she'd actually calmed down enough to think, she'd realized just how little sense it all made. Of course Regina wasn't working with Cora – whatever she thought of the brunette, even she could tell how terrified Regina was of her mother's presence in the town. As for forcibly taking Henry away from Emma in such a public manner… Regina had to know that such a course of action would backfire spectacularly. She'd lose Henry's love permanently if she did that, and nothing mattered more to Regina than Henry.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret prompted.
"I think Henry was afraid of me," Emma said finally, lifting her eyes to meet Mary Margaret's concerned gaze. "He was so pale, shaking… I thought he was upset with Regina. I thought he was afraid that she'd come for him…" She chuckled bitterly. "But he was afraid of me, wasn't he? Of how I was behaving?"
"Not of you," Mary Margaret corrected gently. "For you."
"Because I have magic?"
"Because you were using your magic so unthinkingly," Mary Margaret replied. "Having that kind of power and being absolutely convinced that you are right regardless of actual reasoning… He's seen that combination before – and so have I."
"In Regina," Emma murmured tiredly.
"In Regina," Mary Margaret confirmed.
Emma pushed herself off the bed and started pacing. She felt antsy, anxious, and filled with nervous energy.
She'd walked back and forth across the small bedroom several times before she paused long enough to face Mary Margaret and demand, "What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing is wrong with you," Mary Margaret replied firmly. "You just aren't used to having magic. To using magic. Once you get more used to magic, to controlling it, you'll feel more like yourself again." She grinned. "Even without your red jacket."
Emma huffed, but nodded. "I suppose," she said, only half-convinced.
"If we assume Cora is behind the attack," Mary Margaret added, "then I think it is clear that she is just trying to get under your skin. She knows that you are new to magic. And she knows how powerful you are."
"And if I think I can't control it, I won't try to use it against her," Emma finished. This time, she nodded with more conviction. "Well, she's wrong. I will control it, and I will stop her."
Sidney did not seem particularly surprised to see Regina standing in front of his desk. He smiled guardedly as he rose to greet her, putting aside the article he'd been writing, and asked with a hint of aspersion, "Do you need more mirror magic for something? Have you lost another person in a different realm?"
"No," Regina replied shortly. She glanced around the Storybrooke Daily Mirror's office. Several desks were crammed together into narrow rows, and each one had a reporter leaning over a computer keyboard, or taking notes on paper, or talking on the phone. A few of them had glanced up when she'd entered the office, and regarded her with a mixture of suspicion and fear. "I see you've returned to your old job."
Sidney nodded. "You didn't need my services anymore."
"Walk with me," Regina ordered, and Sidney automatically fell into step beside her as they made their way through the maze of desks and out into the hallway. She knew that several of the other journalists were wondering if she was here to insist on some hatchet job against her rivals; and she knew also that those reporters would refuse such a request… unless she threatened them.
But she wasn't interested in the newspaper. They could print whatever they wanted.
She'd been unable to completely move past her conversation with Berkeley. The realization that he was only pretending to be completely loyal didn't bother her nearly as much as she thought it might, but it had raised some questions.
If a trusted guard from the past was only half-helping her, why had Sidney agreed to risk so much for her? Had there been some other agenda? Had Sidney expected to gain something?
When she'd requested his assistance, she'd taken it for granted that he would agree. The possibility that his experience while cursed might have fundamentally changed him was not something that had ever occurred to her. She'd known he might resent her for what she had done, known she might have to resort to threats to gain his assistance, but she'd never once doubted that he would eventually do her bidding.
He'd always done it before.
But he was different now. Everyone was different now – and she was finally starting to wonder what type of person Sidney was.
In the hallway, she asked bluntly, "Why did you help me locate Emma Swan?"
"Well, you did offer to let me out of that hospital prison if I helped," Sidney replied, just as bluntly.
"But you didn't agree until I answered your question about the curse," Regina retorted. "It wasn't freedom that convinced you, it was knowing that I had let the curse assign everyone's new identities instead of doing it all myself. Why did that matter so much to you?"
Sidney scrutinized her for a long moment, looking for something in her expression, then shook his head. "You really haven't changed, Regina," he said.
"Oh?" Regina challenged icily.
"You ignore us when we aren't needed, and then demand our help when it suits you," Sidney said scathingly, unafraid. "I haven't seen you since Sheriff Swan returned, and now you're here because you suddenly remembered my existence and want answers."
Her anger flared, but Regina fought it down. Sidney's assessment struck surprisingly close to home, and she felt unnerved. She really needed to stop underestimating him. He wasn't going to suddenly revert into that naïve, lovesick genie he had once been. She'd have a hard time manipulating him in the future, and she wasn't sure he'd ever give his help willingly again.
Hopefully she'd never need his help.
He turned to go, and she let him, but then he paused at the doorway to the newspaper's offices and looked back at her.
"I know how magic works," he said. "You thought I was a fool for asking about the properties of the Dark Curse. You thought I didn't understand. But I understood everything far better than you did."
Regina pursed her lips. "What are you talking about, dear?" she asked, trying to sound bored. She did not like this new Sidney. He had courage, spoke to her bluntly and without fear. He did not crave her approval, did not follow her around trying to please her as he had done during the curse, did not look at her with pure love as he had done before the curse.
But he wasn't yelling at her in a rage, or threatening her, or accusing her some heinous crime. He was… he was ignoring her. Like she was irrelevant to his life.
She was starting to regret coming here. And she was itching to just turn him into a toad or something.
"The curse fed on your opinions of people," Sidney continued, his tone soft. "That is how it assigned identities. It made people miserable, separated them from their loved ones, crushed their spirits. Because that's what you wanted."
"I know all this. I did cast the curse," Regina drawled. "Do get to the interesting part."
"You used me and discarded me once Emma Swan came to town. But before she came," he shrugged, and gave her an almost mocking smile, "for those twenty-eight years, I was happy. Happiness… how many other people did you reward with that?"
Regina didn't answer. She didn't have an answer. The curse had freed him from the mirror, given him a level of autonomy he'd probably never had before. And it had given him a job that he enjoyed in an institution that was well respected in the town. The curse hadn't even altered his personality, hadn't brought out all of his weaknesses as it had done with so many others.
Had she made anyone else happy? Had she let anyone else be happy?
She honestly didn't know.
She frowned, trying to understand it all. Had he actually assisted in locating Emma simply because he'd wanted to help her?
"You granted me happiness, I helped you find Emma Swan. Now we're even," Sidney said, and turned away.
He still loved her. He shouldn't, and he knew that. She might have given him happiness, but that had not stopped her from using him when she needed someone to go after Emma, and it had not stopped her from discarding him when she needed a scapegoat for Katherine's disappearance.
He could feel her eyes on his back as he left her standing alone in the corridor. He wanted to return and declare his love and undying devotion. He wanted to beg for the opportunity to be near her, to serve her.
He loved her.
But he didn't trust her, and if he gave into that love, she would be his ruin.
"I know you," George said as the expensively dressed woman took a seat next to him on the park bench. He frowned, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. "I've met you before."
"You have," the woman replied. She was wearing a tailored pantsuit of the finest cloth, and it should have looked elegant. But it hung awkwardly on her, and she shifted uncomfortably in it, as though she wasn't used to wearing modern clothing.
George smiled suddenly, remembering. "You were wearing clothing from our home last time I saw you," he said. "I see you opted for something more… contemporary." And he couldn't quite stop the disdain from creeping into his voice. "Why did you switch back?"
"I decided to blend. Being so easily noticeable would be detrimental to my plans. And, just to be clear, I didn't switch back," the woman replied smoothly, and though it took George a moment to understand her meaning, his jaw dropped in astonishment once he did.
"You're new to Storybrooke," he said. His thoughts ran quickly, following that statement to its only logical conclusion. "Regina's curse didn't affect you?"
"Mm. I had some time to prepare for it," the woman replied enigmatically. She glanced around, curiosity obvious in her gaze. "Last time we spoke, you were also sitting alone on a bench. Is this a habit of yours?"
"Who are you?" George demanded. "And don't give me that same sob story about being married to a wealthy landowner who was murdered by the Evil Queen. You're obviously more than that."
He remembered the previous conversation clearly now – she'd fed him her story, expressed her disgust that Snow and her heroic Prince Charming had allowed Regina to live, and then advised him to take back the power they had stolen from him. He'd been so furious with David, so bitter that his attempt at framing the wolf had failed, that he'd latched onto her counsel without questioning her identity.
But if she hadn't been cursed, then who was she? How had she been able to protect herself? And why was she here now?
"My name is Cora."
"Cora," George repeated. He knew the name – had heard David sputter about this woman enough to remember it. "Regina's mother? David was telling the truth about that?"
"He was," Cora replied. She smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression. "But you and I want the same thing, so before you run off to warn the town, I have a proposition for you."
"Warn the town? You obviously know far less about me than you think you do if you actually believe I would do that."
Cora laughed softly. "Good." The night air was cold, and brought a flush of color to her cheeks. George almost offered her his coat, but then checked the impulse. They weren't in the Enchanted Forest anymore, and chivalry was not expected from him.
Good. He'd never particularly liked the concept anyway.
"I know you made some progress reclaiming your right to rule," Cora said, her cold gaze fixed firmly on his face, "but it seems events have stalled on that front. James still speaks out against you, and Snow evades prison."
"They prefer David and Mary Margaret," George muttered sarcastically, spitting out the names.
Cora inclined her head. "You want to hurt… David." It wasn't a question, but George nodded anyway. He wanted to hurt David, wanted to crush him, wanted to make him suffer. He wanted David to know what it felt like to lose everything the way he himself had lost everything – his wife, his son, his kingdom.
Aloud, he said, "Unfortunately, my attempts have been… unsuccessful." It was painful to admit that he had failed, but if this woman could help him gain his revenge, he would swallow his pride.
"And now even Leah and Stefan have started to doubt you," Cora said sympathetically.
George frowned, unnerved by how much Cora knew. He and Leah had argued. Leah had kicked him out of the royalty council meetings, claiming that he was too rash, too reckless, to blinded by his hatred of David. She and Stefan had apparently decided he couldn't be trusted, and, as she'd pointed out, since he didn't technically have a kingdom anymore…
He wasn't royalty. He didn't belong.
Oh, he wanted to crush Leah, too.
He looked at Cora. "How do you know about that?" he demand sharply. It was one thing to swallow one's pride as accept help, and quite a different matter to trust blindly. Cora knew too much, and knowledge was power.
"I've been watching the town," Cora explained, "and my daughter. I know things."
The answer was far too vague, and her tone was far too superior. George stood up. "You'll have to forgive me if I am not willing to trust someone who has been spying on me. Take your proposition to someone else."
"But you haven't even heard it yet," Cora protested.
"I don't need to," George replied flatly.
He started to walk away, but Cora called him back, "I'll give you three questions." He turned to her, eyebrows raised. "You can ask any three questions you want," she said, "and I will give you an honest answer."
George considered the offer. It was clear that she wanted his help. Even from their brief interactions he could tell that she was not the type of person who trusted others with her secrets, and the fact that she was offering honesty was compelling.
She could always lie, of course… it's not like he would know.
But he decided to take the chance.
"Why do you hate David and Mary Margaret?"
"Snow's mother ruined my life," came the immediate answer.
George hesitated. He wanted to ask more about that, but he had to use these questions to ascertain if he should trust Cora, not to satisfy his own curiosity.
If Cora's enmity was focused primarily on Snow's mother, it seemed unlikely she would have willingly waited this long for her revenge. Particularly because Snow's mother was dead, thus depriving Cora of the opportunity to hurt her specifically. Unless she had a different plan? Something focused more on Snow than on her mother? But why?
Tentatively, he asked, "What is your end game?"
Cora's voice was suddenly brittle as she answered, "I once learned a rather painful lesson about how to crush people. Take away what they value most." It wasn't a complete enough answer, and George waited for her to elaborate. After a moment, she said, "Eva – Snow's dear mother – valued her legacy of goodness. Her people viewed her as a kind and compassionate queen, a hero, their savior. She and Leopold were the start of a dynasty of Good."
George snorted. When Eva had finally inherited her parents' kingdom, uniting it with Leopold's, they had become the most powerful couple in the Enchanted Forest. And it was true – people had revered them as the best of rulers, as the epitome of what royalty could be.
"But Eva was none of those things," Cora said viciously, "and I wanted everyone to know it. I wanted them to see her the way I saw her, to know just what she truly was."
George blinked. "You want to destroy her legacy," he said slowly, puzzling through what she had said. "You want to… to turn Snow – Mary Margaret – evil?" Cora didn't respond to the question, but he saw the discomfort flash momentarily through her eyes, saw the flattening of her lips and the tightening of the skin around her eyes. He shook his head slowly. "You already tried that," he murmured, hazarding the guess, "and it failed. What happened?"
Cora rose to her feet. "Is that your third question?" she demanded, biting off the words. She didn't want to answer it, and that only made George more eager to here what had happened.
"Yes," he said firmly.
Cora averted her gaze, and for a moment, George thought she might call of the deal and leave. He understood the temptation. He didn't like owning up to his failures, either, but she already knew about his past. It was only fair that he learn about hers.
She looked back at him, squared her shoulders, and said, "The kingdom my husband was from… it went bankrupt. He begged me to save it, but I refused. I hated them, and I thought this would hurt them. It did… but Leopold and Eva absorbed the kingdom into their own, and everyone praised Eva, everyone loved her even more. So I killed her."
George's eyebrows shot upwards.
"It was after Snow was born. She was teaching her brat of a daughter about goodness and kindness and love, and the people loved her for that, too. For raising a daughter who would one day be a just and merciful queen. But once she was dead, Leopold needed a new queen, a stepmother for his young daughter. So I arranged to have him marry my daughter… and then I arranged for my daughter to hate Snow."
George laughed outright. "So you are responsible for Regina's relentless pursuit of Snow?" He wasn't the single-minded, power-hungry madman that everyone believed he was. He was more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for, and he put the pieces together quickly. "And you thought that this persistent persecution would turn Snow evil."
"Not evil," Cora correctly grimly, "just dark. A sheltered princess who'd lost both her parents, who knew nothing of hardship, who was so very young? Her beloved father murdered by the stepmother she thought she could trust? Forced to flee her own home and hide in the forest, always on the run for the Evil Queen? Who could possibly stay good in the face of all that?"
"But she didn't want revenge," George said. "After she and James captured Regina and took back her kingdom, Snow let Regina go. You couldn't turn her dark, so you couldn't destroy Eva's legacy." He paused. "Do you think you can now? Do you think Mary Margaret will turn?"
It wasn't quite what he had planned, but losing Mary Margaret to the darkness would destroy David, and that was good enough.
Cora smiled. "Who said anything about going after Mary Margaret?"
George was intrigued. "I'm listening."
"I sent two of Regina's henchmen after Miss Swan today," Cora said casually, as though it was a mere trifle. "They thought they were doing Regina's bidding, of course." George nodded, wondering what magic Cora had used to accomplish that, but decided not to ask, and Cora continued, "Our dear Savior reacted rather violently at first. Her magic consumed her, and it took a while for her to regain her balance."
George furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."
"Magic is hard to control at first, particularly without a good teacher, and Emma Swan has far too much of it to handle. She acts rashly, emotionally, instinctively, and it responds to her. But the more she uses it, the more it uses her. Her magic comes from how strongly she loves, and so she thinks it is a strength, that it makes her strong. But she doesn't realize that all that love she has pouring out of her heart is a weakness. Force her to use her magic, and eventually she will become addicted to it. And once she's addicted… well. Once that darkness seeps in, it is nearly impossible to stop."
"Did you become addicted to magic?" George asked before he could stop himself.
Cora looked bemused. "No," she said, "but I have an advantage that she doesn't." And she rested her hand over her chest in a gesture that meant nothing to George but clearly meant something to her. "I gave answered your three questions and told you my goal. It seems to align quite well with yours." She extended her hand. "So are you in?"
At their first meeting, Cora had told him that he needed to take back his power, take back everything David had stripped away from him. And turning Emma Swan dark…
"Yes," he said, and reached out to shake her hand.