AN: This is still post "Queen of Hearts" and I watch too much Game of Thrones for anyone's good.

Chapter III

Nightingale

"I'm not going down there!" A tiny silk-clad foot stamped the floor.

Princess Regina was almost four years old and was acting like the child that she was. Esmeralda wanted to take the girl onto her lap and tell her that it was okay. She wanted to smooth the girl's hair and tell her that she did not have to go. It broke her heart that she could not do that. Princess Cora had demanded her daughter's presence. It was not every night that the King graced their manor with a visit and he expected to see his granddaughter.

"But my little one you have on a pretty dress, do you not want the King to see how pretty you are?"

"I am plain and ugwy."

Esmeralda closed her eyes and sighed. These were Cora's words and Regina repeated them as if they were the truth.

"You look like your father, my sweet and he is the most handsome man in the kingdom. This is known."

"All of the pwincesses in the story books have yellow hair and blue eyes. I'm no pwincess."

Esmeralda settled on her knees beside the little girl who was scowling at the mirror.

"Those stories were written by fools, Regina. You are beautiful, the most beautiful of them all."

The girl shook her head, "I'm brown."

The woman smiled at her, putting her face beside the still chubby three year old's face so she could see her in the mirror.

"The nightingale is brown too, my little one, but it sings the sweetest song."

Tears that had been threatening to spill over, evaporated in Regina's dark eyes. "Like in my twee?"

"You will sing far sweeter than all of those story book princesses because you have a good heart." She kissed Regina's dark hair. "And no matter how beautiful and beloved you become, you will always be my little nightingale."

"Pwomise?"

Esmeralda wanted to promise so many things to the girl. She wanted to promise that she would have the happy ending she deserved. She wanted to tell her that she would always be happy. She wanted to promise her that Cora would never lay a hand on her again. It broke her heart that she could promise none of these things.

"Always and forever, Regina, no matter what."

Esmeralda had travelled to Kingdoms that had no name. She had walked along the long wall of the Chin. She had traveled to lands that worshiped lions and lived in perpetual winter. She had walked across sands to a place where carpets could fly. She had stayed a fortnight on an island where no man was allowed to tread. She had never seen any place like this world. She had never imagined such a place. She had danced upon cobblestone streets lifetimes ago, but these roads were different, made of a black material that she'd never seen before. There were no horses, there were no carts, but large contraptions that she had no name for went by her. The houses were all neat and made of wood and stone. There were no huts with thatched roofs. There were no farm animals behind stick fences. She looked around the streets and growled in frustration. She was Romani, a master of travel, she could not be lost. She looked down at Regina, her face was ashen and her breathing strained. She had to get Regina somewhere safe before it was too late.

"I need a sign, Little One." Her Little One was not so little anymore, "please."

Then she smelled it: the faint, sweet scent of apples. Despite the desperate situation, she could not help but smile at the scent. She followed her nose, cradling her precious cargo against her to a large white manor-house with number 108 on its door. She was sure that Regina would have everything and more inside, but this was not where they needed to be. Regina needed to be beneath her tree. Esmeralda walked around the side of the white manor, eyes locked on the green leaves she saw dancing in the breeze. She fought with the fence's gate and sighed with relief when it finally swung open. Grass, green and alive, felt familiar under her bare feet. She smiled and headed to the one thing that she had known would be here. Regina's apple tree. She lay her nightingale on the grass beneath the tree. Her own words, spoken so long ago, echoed in her head: So long as she tends to this tree, then she is not lost. Weak from carrying the woman and from her worry, she fell to her knees beside her.

She pushed back the hood of her cloak to reveal her face. Ebony hair shot through with streaks of white tumbled down her shoulders and touched her Nightingale's still face. Slim dusky fingers brushed the hair away and caressed Regina's too-thin cheek. Esmeralda had not seen her since she had left two days before the girl's tenth name day. She had always been a pretty child, but now she was a beautiful woman. A green spark crackled just underneath Regina's too-pale skin and Esmeralda jerked her hand back. A beautiful woman who was well on her way to her final journey.

Regina's magic was purple, like Cora's. This green was some other sort of magic, and it was hurting the woman. Esmeralda waved her hand over Regina's still face. Her skin immediately prickled into goose bumps and her stomach fell. Fairy dust, and allot of it, was rushing through Regina's body. It was attacking her heart. What had happened? Esmeralda had studied magic in many different places and had never seen so much fairy dust used in a spell. The magic was fairy but the intent was very dark, it was a killing curse.

"Spirits preserve you, Regina."

Her hands trembled as she removed her cloak. She took her bag from her shoulders and threw it to the ground beside her. She struggled with the unfamiliar coat and silk shirt, she ripped buttons to bare Regina's chest. The skin above her heart was a poisonous green.

"No-no-no."

She shoved her hand into her bag and pulled out a small crystal. She put it in the center of Regina's forehead. It turned emerald green, then it exploded. Esmeralda twisted around, hand up to her eyes. Crystal shards peppered her cheek and arm. She sucked in a breath, and tried to control the fear that was burning like a wildfire in her chest. Her hands went to her waist. There were gold coins weaved into the shawl that she always wore around her hips. Some had been handed down to her from her clan, and others she had collected through her travels. She ripped one of the strings and put the coin on Regina's shuddering chest. It glowed green almost immediately. There was no change Regina's condition. Her great great grandmother had sewn her shawl, it had been in her clan for centuries and she was the last of her clan. She ripped the shawl into pieces without a second thought. Coins scattered on the grass and she placed them on Regina's chest-as many as she could fit. They started to absorb the magic, but it had little effect. Esmeralda swept the tainted coins off of Regina's body and started putting larger, older coins in their place.

The pile of poisonous coins grew on the grass and she started to scramble to find clean ones. After forty coins, Regina's breathing eased. After sixty her color started to return. After more than eighty coins dark eyes snapped open.

"A gypsy?"

Snow's voice echoed through the diner.

Aurora nodded, "She helped us stow-away on Hook's ship after Mulan put my heart back."

If anyone else had noticed her voice soften when speaking about Mulan, they didn't say so. Then again, how many times did someone put your heart back into your chest? Having her heart almost pulled out had been terrifying, but someone putting it back in sounded different. It sounded incredibly intimate.

"You trusted a gypsy?" David's voice was on the border of surprise and disgust and it shook Emma out of her thoughts.

She knew some Gypsies, of the American type. They were very cliquish and hard to get to know. Some were on the grift, posing as legitimate businessmen, carnival riff-raff, and the ever popular fortune teller act, to name a few of the classics. There were others, though, that were simply wanderers. They floated from town to town, never settling down. She understood that lifestyle. That had been her lifestyle for many years.

"Wait, wait, woah." Emma held her hands up. "I think the most important part of this whole thing is that Cora is here. In Storybrooke." She unconsciously moved closer to Henry. She pushed her hand through her blonde hair, "This is the worst case scenario." Her previous toilet-induced happiness buzz dissipated. We've gotta circle the wagons, call the Storybrooke National Guard Unit up and into action, and I don't know, prepare stuff." Emma's thoughts raced, "We have to tell Regina."

"She will be told."

Emma smirked, typical Mulan, strait to the point without wasting a word.

"Well of course she knows. She probably met her mother at the dock with open arms and a box of chocolates." Snow grabbed her bow and quiver and scowled, "We have to stop them before they start an all-out war."

"Regina is the Evil Queen, right?"

"Yes." Henry, previously quiet, answered the Princess that he recognized from his dreams.

"Then she wasn't running anywhere and she's not with Cora. She collapsed back on the black stone road and the gypsy carried her away." Aurora's brows furrowed as she spoke. "She did not look good. I think she was confused, she called me by my mother's name."

The Diner erupted, everyone was saying something. Grumpy, already on the far side of tipsy, called for an immediate triple execution: Regina, Cora and the unnamed Gypsy.

Ruby, the voice of reason now, went to Snow's side and tried to bring order to the room.

Emma just stared at the chaos, unable to form words.

Emma looked down at Henry and saw the worry in his eyes, "I'm sure she's okay, Henry."

She hoped Regina was okay.

"A gypsy is almost as bad as Cora."

Snow's words finally quieted the chaos and she continued in the regal tone tha Emma still could not reconcile with the woman she had called Mary Margret, "But we don't know who she is yet."

"She's allied herself with the Evil Queen and she's a gypsy how much more do we need to know?" Grumpy, raring for a fight, beat his fist on the table to emphasize his drunken point.

Emma sighed, "What is the big deal with gypsies?"

The entire room looked at Emma and Snow sighed. It was that annoying sigh that she heaved every time something magical, mythical or fairy tale fantastic that everyone but her understood came up.

"Gypsys are a dark and inferior people, Emma. They are barbarians who have destroyed every settlement they ever built. They pass from town to town robbing the people, selling snake oil and fake love potions, spreading disease and cursing innocents. They were aligned with the Evil Queen in the war. You can't trust them."

Emma blinked, she hadn't expected that. She had never expected a racist remark to fly out of sweet Mary Margret's mouth. Then again, Emma mentally sighed, the bow wielding woman before her was not Mary Margret. Still, though, fairy tale racism? Really?

"Gypsies, The Romani people that is, weren't aligned with anyone during the war."

Archie pushed his glasses back up his nose and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "The Romani don't recognize any Kings or Queens."

He sounded like he knew more than he was letting on about the subject, but Emma had no time to push him on it because no one allowed for silence, everyone kept talking.

"That's true enough." Everyone turned to Granny Lucas. She stood behind the counter, "I never met a gypsy that I liked, but they weren't as bad as everyone makes 'em out to be. Most of you youngsters don't remember this, but some kingdoms took on Romani nursemaids as part of a peace pact with the Gypsy clans. It fell out of practice by the time King Leopold and Queen Eva, may their spirits rest in peace, had Snow." She wiped the counter and sighed, "But back in the Old Days a King would welcome a young Romani girl into his castle and she would protect his children from dark magics and assassins and in exchange her clan could come and go in his lands as they needed with no harassment or tariffs."

Snow's mouth twisted into a scowl, "My mother and father would have never allowed a gypsy near me."

"The gypsy woman knew The Evil Queen."

Mulan met Emma's eyes and continued, "She seemed distressed, but we were not allowed to see her face, so I am not sure what she was truly thinking. She said she was taking her home."

Regina woke up with a strangled scream. Her hand went to her heart and her fingers brushed against something hard. Her vision swam into focus and she recognized the branches above her head. She was home, under her tree. How had she gotten home? Her last clear memory had been leaving Gold's Shop everything after that was hazy hallucinations of familiar faces and a warped landscape of buildings twisted beyond recognition. She turned her head, and felt like even that was a gargantuan effort. The face that looked down at her was painfully familiar. The dark hair, the emerald green eyes, the ragged scar that cut across a dusky cheek and through plump lips.

"Am I dead?" She croaked, her throat was raw and speaking was painful, "is this Hell?"

Husky laughter, as familiar as the face, filled her ears, "Does this look like Hell, my Little Nightingale?"

Regina licked her painfully dry and cracked lips, and was unsurprised to taste blood. "You're dead. My mother showed me your heart. She crushed it into dust."

Esmeralda, her childhood nurse, the woman she had wanted to be her mother so much that she had wished on every star and knelt in every mushroom circle she had ever seen, rolled her warm green eyes. "She lied. No one, no witch, demon or even the Dark One himself, can remove a Romani heart. To attempt would mean death. This is known."

This is known. She couldn't even count how many times she had heard that phrase as a child. It was warm and familiar, like a favorite security blanket.

"Here." Esmeralda took Regina's limp and shaking hand in her own steady one and placed it on her chest. "Do you feel it?"

She could, Regina felt the steady thud of the other woman's heart. She was alive. Something in Regina, she did not know what, broke. She pushed herself off the grass and grabbed onto the woman above her, clinging to her like a life raft. Tears, unbidden, rushed to her eyes. She didn't understand how this was possible, but she didn't care. Maybe she was dead, maybe her mind had broken and she was locked in the asylum. Maybe Esmeralda was truly beside her. It didn't matter which it was, she was not alone. For the first time since her father, she was not alone. The scents she had always associated with Esmeralda, sandalwood and cinnamon spice, met her nose. Comfortable, familiar and always welcoming arms wrapped around her the last of her control broke. Tears, heartbroken and bitter tears coninued to pour out of her eyes. Regina buried her face in the other woman's shoulder and the sobs overtook her. The logistics of it escaped her, but Regina found herself being pulled onto Esmeralda's lap. She hadn't sat in anyone's lap since she was ten years old. Regina, for the first time in a long time, felt safe and loved and that was the cruelest feeling of all because it would not last. It never lasted.