Chapter 30.
The long awaited update, part 1. Yes, that's right, I have 2 chapters for you today.
After two years (and two months), two emergency surgeries, loss of job and all-around messiness of life, I lost my groove. I honestly think I got it back, but I did my best. Some parts of the story in these chapters are a bit patchy, but I couldn't iron it out without completely ruining it, so I left it as such. No betaed, as always, so...
I don't know if the parts of it deserve TW, but here it is anyway: some talks of abandonment, about Royal politics and such...
Enjoy.
With her ears still echoing from the sharp words the founder of Tintagel had for his descendant, Regina withdrew within her thoughts, letting the soft and guiding hold of her True Love on her elbow take her through the empty halls and stairways to their quarters. At the door, she heard her beloved murmur something about dinner, before the gentle touch disappeared and the echo of the blonde's hurried steps slowly dissipated in the quiet corridors of the Marble Palace.
Surprised by the Savior's sudden disappearance, but not really bothered by it, Regina only sighed and removed the thick but short tunic she had donned for the audience with the Queen, tossing it on the bed as it was no longer necessary in their well-heated chambers. She then walked toward the table, silently wishing that the pitcher on it contained wine or something even stronger rather than water (she would even accept Morgan's strangely refreshing and tasty potion she had been served in the early days of her visit); nevertheless, she poured a cup and bringing it to her lips, she stepped around the table and went to the window, pushing the heavy drape that protected the room from the cold to the side and using a brief pulse of magic to tie it up out of the way. Resting her side on the elaborately detailed stonework, she gazed out into the darkness of the winter night, her eyes drawn to the barely seen mists covering the bottom of the valley as they glimmered under the stars and the waning crescent moon. Unbothered by the soft murmur coming from the village above her, she let the quietude of the evening wash over her as she sipped the fresh water, her thoughts going back to the admonishment she had witnessed only minutes before. Regina had known Gorlois was angry, but hearing the prolonged and blistering tirade the man had for Morgan was… Honestly, it was embarrassing and hard to watch. In a way, she agreed with the points the Tintagel creator had made, but, at the same time, she understood Morgan and why she had acted in such a way. She had done something a bit similar, albeit on a much more sinister and destructive level.
However, it wasn't the rebuke that was playing on Regina's mind. Well, not only the rebuke. Gorlois had effectively ordered Morgan to relinquish all of her titles and to give them to her, and it had only then dawned on Regina that it hadn't been just Tintagel line and Brocéliande that she would inherit. Morgan was the last remaining ruler of Camelot, as well. And, with her marriage to the Charming Crown princess, unless Snow and David changed the rules of succession in favor of the younger child, that list was only going to grow. Considering the fact that both of them were dead set on living in Storybrooke, that presented a problem, albeit the one they could deal with at the later time.
But, for the moment, there was something that she had wanted to do ever since she had the marriage conversation with her beloved. Still leaning against the stone wall and turned toward the window, she reached down into her pocket and took out a small platinum band, letting it rest in the crease of her palm as she brought her hand up. Her eyes flew immediately to the emerald, cut into radiant form and expertly polished, set into the band in a familiar, antique setting with the stone a bit raised and surrounded by the smallest of black and white diamonds around it before they tapered off into black and white diamond chips which covered a bit more than the third of the band. It was an engagement ring she had made with the expert input from the local craftsmen, and it was also made to go with Emma's ring of the wedding bands she had already prepared for the rites the next evening. And, having taken Emma's remark into account, she had crafted a thin but durable neck chain that would hold the rings when they weren't on the blonde's hand, which, in all honesty, would be almost immediately after their wedding, seeing how the Savior was always in a state of readiness. Not that she minded, as the very idea of Emma holding the rings close to her heart made her own ache with love and affection toward her knight.
Hearing soft but hurried steps, forming a familiar cadence of footfalls, Regina quickly stuffed the ring into her pocket and turned toward the still wide open door to their quarters, waiting for her beloved to step through it, absently using a short wiggle of magic to return the drape back in its place. But, when she finally saw the blonde, her eyes fell on the wicker basket the woman was carrying in her arms, in front of her. Pushing away from the window, she only scrunched her brows, feeling them rise a bit on her forehead.
"Food," Emma said simply as she placed the basket on the table, having used her ample magic to close the door behind her. "And, drinks," she added, as she removed a large, fully filled, skin of her shoulder. "Colm sends his regards," Emma said, chuckling when she felt the skin slip out of her hand when Regina took it and immediately uncorked it to sniff at the liquid inside. When the brunette gasped in surprise at the sweet scent of a well aged port coming out of the skin, Emma nudged her lover and smiled. "He likes you, for some reason," the blonde murmured before she kissed Regina's cheek, soothing the possible sting of her joking words, before she returned to the basket, carefully removing the filled bowls that were on top.
"Oh, Emma, that smells amazing," Regina spoke as she quickly tossed the skin over one of the chairs and quickly reached over to help her beloved unpacking the meal she had brought over from the kitchens of the Communal Hall, simply salivating over the goods she had brought. The wondrously looking and smelling boar stew poured over diced parsnip, properly seasoned, looked quite delicious and filling, however, it wasn't the only thing Emma had brought them to dine on. There was a spread-hand sized round shaped unleavened bread, still hot from the oven, and a small jar of something that looked like honey. "This is a proper feast," the brunette exclaimed as she sat down, not at all surprised to see Emma place a small platter of hard cheese in front of her.
"Only the best for you," Emma said flippantly before she did away with the basket, joining Regina at the table. Then, the blonde reached for the queen's hand, taking it gently into her own. "By the way, one of Morgan's girls informed the cooks about the celebration tomorrow just as I was leaving," she added, before she placed a soft kiss on Regina's hand.
Affectionately smiling at her beloved, the brunette replied. "They need time to prepare. Usually, these things take weeks and months, especially when it is a Royal wedding."
At the mention of the title, Emma grunted and rolled her eyes. "So, this is as low key as it was ever gonna get, right?" She glanced at the woman next to her. "No justice of the peace, and a simple paper…" Then she frowned for a moment. "You're the mayor, you could do it."
Regina shook her head at the blonde's slightly hopeful expression. "I am on sabbatical from the post, remember. And, even if I wasn't, we would need to be in Storybrooke for it to be even remotely legal, and I don't even know how it would work, when I am the one to be married." She knew that Emma's griping had nothing to do with the wedding and marriage, but with the certain protocol attached to it, especially for the woman who simply hated when someone called her by her rightful title of the Crown Princess. "Be thankful it is not held at the White Castle, or at the Charming Palace."
"I am," Emma immediately responded, drawing her chair nearer to Regina's and leaning lightly against the brunette's shoulder with her own. She then gazed upon the melted chocolate orbs looking at her with love and sighed. "I love you, and I can't wait to be your wife," she whispered earnestly, before she cleared her throat and looked away. "The food is getting cold."
Later in the evening, after they had shared a very filling and tasteful meal, the two women took their cups and the skin with wine, and settled by the lit fire. Emma sat down on the unrolled furs that were still by the fireplace, using one of the large down pillows to give her back a bit of elevation, while Regina simply decided to use the blonde's chest as her headrest, looking into the merrily crackling fire and humming in pleasure when the Knight's nimble fingers started gliding through her unbound hair. After a while spent in a comfortable silence, Emma gently brought her fingertips to Regina's forehead and with a soothing caress, she smoothed over the slight creases forming right above the eyebrows.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked in a quiet whisper, watching her lover's face, as diffused shadows played over it. For a long moment, she believed Regina would ignore the question, or just shrug it off noncommittally, but then, the brunette lifted her head and pulled herself up in a seated position, bringing her knees to her chest as her hand tightened around the half empty cup of port. Concerned for her True Love, Emma shifted to her side and used her elbow to prop herself up, coming closer to the other woman, but still leaving her a bit of space, and waited.
"My last wedding," Regina finally spoke after a while, looking into the flames. "How I felt then." She then turned her head to look at her beloved and offered a reassuring smile when she saw Emma's worried expression. "How I feel now," she said as she reached for the blonde's hand and brought it to her lips. "I never honestly believed that this moment would ever come, even after I kissed you awake." Squeezing the hand in her possession she stopped Emma from speaking, her eyes imploring her to let her continue. "I waited for the bad news, for the other shoe to drop, for the moment it would all be taken away from me and destroyed... " She smiled again, but this time it was more of a grimace of dejected melancholy, a feeling Emma was very familiar with, especially during her childhood. "It couldn't last. How could it, when I don't deserve it after all that I've done? How could I ever have a happy ending?"
Emma opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the former Evil Queen smiled once more, the depressed gloom leaving her features. "And, with everything that you've gotten into since Neverland did not help," she spoke with a trace of rueful laughter in her words. "But, then…" She kissed the knuckles of Emma's hand. "You showed me that no matter the ending, it's the time in between that matters. The moments of happiness. Of peace. Of love. That they are worth all of this, no matter the pain. And, despite the worry, despite the uncertainty that awaits us, I am happy." A tear glided down the olive face, dropping onto Emma's hand, before Regina kissed it away.
Knowing from the Queen's memories how incredibly hard and traumatic the preparation for her previous wedding had been, Emma understood the point Regina was making. It was hard to think of it, the haze of grief only accentuating the horrific impact of the wedding to the King, but in a way, it was good. Regina survived, and overcame, and finally, she was happy, with the person she chose for herself. Yes, there was the whole True Love thing, but the two of them knew that Regina had feelings for Emma long before the curse-breaking kiss, and the same was true for Emma. In the end, it was Regina's choice to get married, a choice she could finally make for herself.
"Which brings me to something," Regina continued quickly, placing her cup on the stone floor and her newly freed hand disappeared into her pants' pocket. "I know our relationship is far from traditional, but I wanted to do at least one thing in a proper order." Keeping her hand in her pocket and with the other, holding Emma's palm, she shifted and turned, somewhat awkwardly, until she found herself on her knees, by the blonde's hips, and sitting on her haunches. "So," she said after clearing her throat and taking a deep breath. "I've never done this, but…" She took another deep breath and pulled out her closed fist out of the pocket, placing it in the small space between them. "Will you do me the greatest honor and be my wife?" she asked, splaying her fingers open and showing Emma the exquisitely crafted piece of jewelry, the precious stones glimmering in the fire light.
The Savior sucked in a sharp breath as she felt her chin fall open, her body raising without her conscious intention as she sat up, her eyes not moving away from the beautiful ring in Regina's hand. "Yes," she uttered in a breathless whisper before she looked up. "Yes," she repeated, this time in a stronger and clearer voice. "I" she started before she simply nodded. "Yes," she then said for the third time, not able to provide any other words. And, then, in a blinkingly fast move, she dove at her True Love, engulfing her in a strong hug and pushing the both of them into the sprawled position over the furs, her sudden attack making Regina yelp in surprise before she started laughing, barely remembering to close her hand and keep the ring safe as she found her arms full with the blonde warrior giggling in her embrace.
She knew why the strong reaction. As Emma had understood why this wedding was so different from her first one, she had understood that by doing something she hadn't done before, like officially asking Emma to marry her, she was putting the blonde first, choosing her first. Not as some lesser option, or needed prop, but an actual first choice, for someone who had been discarded so many times in the past. And, of course, Regina knew that the blonde had not been blind to her less than secret meeting with the two men at the forge, correctly surmising what Regina had in mind, but the thing was - Emma had assumed her interest had only been in the wedding rings, something needed for the bonding rites, a necessary part of the ritual. The engagement ring had not been mentioned anywhere, and it was an extravagance that the blonde had believed they would do without. However, just as Emma had known her issues, so had Regina with the blonde, and the brunette had silently sworn to herself that she would do everything in her power to show Emma how truly she was loved.
When the two of them calmed a bit, still lying down, with Emma on top of Regina, the blonde raised her head from the older woman's bosom and peered into the sparkling molten chocolate eyes, her own bearing marks of joyously spilt tears, drawing the brunette's palm to Emma's cheek immediately, the gentle caress of the thumb wiping the tracks away. "Put it on?" the blonde whispered tremulously, her shaking voice springing Regina into action as she wasted no time and grabbed for Emma's left hand, slipping on the ring on the proper finger within seconds. "It's perfect," Emma murmured as she admired it under the dancing lights of the dying fire, before her face fell in regret. "I won't be able to wear it, though," she spoke quietly as she glanced at her True Love, slightly confused by the indulging smile on Regina's face.
"Wear it until we leave Brocéliande," the former Evil Queen murmured as she brought Emma's head down to kiss her lips, before she let the blonde place her head onto her shoulder. "Don't worry about after," she added with assurance that told Emma her lover had something in mind for the rings after the wedding. With those words, the warrior relaxed and gazed upon her new accessory using her thumb to trace the band as her ear was filled with the soothing sound of Regina's steady heartbeat.
"I don't have a ring for you," Emma spoke a bit later, as her adorned palm rested on Regina's breastbone, only an inch away from her mouth as her head still remained on the brunette's shoulder.
The older woman shrugged, her arms wrapping around Emma's middle, holding her tightly to her own body. "It's not…" she started, but she didn't know how to continue, not wanting to dismiss or devalue Emma's intentions or desires. "I don't mind."
"I do," the Savior spoke firmly, her fingers twisting into Regina's shirt. "But, that's not what I meant." She shifted a bit and rose up, using her elbow to hold herself over the other woman, but careful not to dislodge the embrace the woman's arms held her in. "With everything that I know of your past, I was reluctant to even bring this up, but thanks to Gwen and Aileen, I had a plan. I had a way of proposing, and I was going to do it tonight, but then, after the talk with Morgan it didn't seem like a good time…"
As the Sheriff continued to babble, not getting to the point, Regina sighed, finally understanding Emma's disappearance earlier in the evening. And, the reappearance of insecure and rambling Savior served as a fond reminder of the woman Emma had been before the business with the trigger. Having realized she had lost the thread of the blonde's long speech, she tuned back in.
"... and, both Percival and Aileen told me of some old customs that seemed appropriate, so I made you something," the Savior finally wound down, waving her hand toward the dresser, summoning something out of it. "Once upon a time, some people didn't use rings for the engagement, but they would use bracelets and bangles that signified betrothal." As a palm sized velvet bag landed in Emma's hand, the blonde sat up and sheepishly did away the knot on the string holding it closed. "Well, you did kinda steal my thunder, but…" Emma opened the back and turned it over, pouring something into her hand.
There, under the weak light of the fire embers, Regina saw an intricate rose gold weave that was studded with the small black brilliantly cut diamonds and a bit larger rubies, the both types of precious stones along with the polished gold sparkled and caught the dimming light, making the priceless creation in Emma's hand shine in the darkness of the room. After Emma had gently pulled the cuff of Regina's shirt away from her forearm, she placed the extremely agile weave onto the brunette's left wrist, snapping the tiny clasps closed and only then Regina could see that the stones were arranged in a particular pattern. The three and a half inches in width of very tiny weave served as a background for an artistic rendering of a red fruit bearing tree that held silver etched glyphs for True Love on its trunk right at the center of the image.
"It doesn't have a swan or something like that, because I didn't want to even obliquely imply any sort of ownership over you," the blonde spoke as she held Regina's arm in her hands, letting the woman see the brace-like jewelry in its entirety.
A soft scoff came from the brunette as she brought her other hand, using her fingers to go over the finely spun gold, each thread thinner than a strand of hair, netted so tightly that there were no visible gaps in the weave, making it look like a piece of glossy silk. "It is so light, and warm," Regina whispered in awe as her fingers glided over the metal. "And, it holds your magic," she added softly, her voice lilting in question at the end.
"Uh," Emma blushed and glanced away, her hands dropping down before she brought one of them behind her neck, rubbing it in embarrassment. "I wanted you to have a piece of me," she mumbled, not looking into Regina's face, her eyes darting over to the fireplace, before hesitantly going back, their focus somewhere over Regina's knees. "Just something, you know…"
"Oh, Emma," Regina whispered softly as she watched the other woman fidget in embarrassment. "You are already a big part of me, my beloved," she spoke as she slowly reached for the blonde's hand, before she brought herself closer to the Savior so she could use her free hand to gently tuck loose locks falling over Emma's eyes back, her palm caressing the cheek it slid across. "Not only the memories, my courageous Knight, but the love that we share is part of us, of our very bodies. You are with me with every thought, with every breath, with every heartbeat that I have. I have you."
"I know," Emma murmured. "I just…"
"But, I love this," Regina continued on in a quiet but emotion-laden voice, as if the blonde hadn't spoken, pressing her thumb against Emma's moist lips to silence her, while she glanced down at the bracelet. "It is breathtakingly beautiful, and I love the apple tree, Emma. Just like the one you've grown in my garden as an incredibly thoughtful gift for me, this one too bears the mark of your love for me. Just like the tree in Storybrooke bears the scar of your frustration with me. It may had once represented the hope and love my father had for my future, and and his desire for this image to be my sigil; but through your actions and emotions behind them, you have made this," she traced the black diamonds with the pads of her fingers before tapping lightly on one of the rubies with her middle digit, "a symbol of your devotion and love." Tilting her head toward the still silenced warrior, Regina breathed in. "And, that, my dearest Love, is everything." She then smiled at the blonde, her glittering eyes shimmering with unspilled tears. With a soft sigh, she then continued on, her voice taking on a slightly different quality, a sense of demand and regality echoing behind her words. "The swan is a mark of the Hero you are, a symbol of hope you as one inspire in others, and despite it being a large part of who you are, that is not all that you are. Let the rest of the world have the Swan. I just want you, Emma."
The Savior blinked slowly, so incredibly moved by Regina's passionate speech, her lids pushing out the heavy drops that spilled over and down her cheeks. With a trembling exhale, she reached for the brunette's hand on her face and kissing the lifeline on Regina's palm, she kept her eyes on her True Love, and finally replied. "All that I am," she said slowly but with such solemnity in her tone, that her heartfelt promise resonated deeply through the magics of the both women. Then, she gently pulled her betrothed towards herself and enveloped her in a tight embrace, lowering her forehead onto Regina's neck and sighing in pleasure when the brunette's possessive hand sank into her hair at the back of her head, gripping firmly.
The fire had already died out before they moved, slowly dragging themselves to bed. With the exhaustion and the emotional whiplash fully catching up to them at last, holding each other firmly with their entwined limbs, they both fell asleep.
It was dark in the room when Regina lazily opened her eyes, but the brunette knew the morning was well under way, and not only because of a small shaft of light coming from the almost fully covered window. Despite the fact that this particular day would be filled with activities and preparations for her nuptials after the nightfall, she did not feel the need to leave the comforting safety of her beloved's arms which were wrapped tightly around her, even though the Savior was still deeply asleep and quietly snoring. As she became more alert, Regina took in the intertwined positions of the two of them, realizing that they had hardly moved since they had fallen into a deep slumber. Only then, she noticed the familiar touch of Emma's magic, gently enveloping her left wrist, her memories of the night before instantly reminding her of the blonde's loving and understanding generosity; her eyes, used to the dimness, idly gazing over the brilliant craftsmanship of the rose gold gift for the betrothal.
She was betrothed, she suddenly realized. Of course, the wedding, or rather the marriage rites have been on her mind ever since Morgan had mentioned them as a requirement for the Heir ritual, but… In her mind, it was a necessity, a simple formality and a forgone step in her relationship with Emma - they were True Loves, which was a magically declared marriage of a couple as it was, so doing a small rite to just confirm it and make it legal for the purpose of something else wasn't a big deal. It hadn't been something that inspired unbelievable joy or that she truly desired, especially not after how the last one had turned out, with her mother and husband conscripting her to hell with an elaborate but ultimately simple proposal and wedding. Not that being married to Emma would be anything but a wonderful adventure, and she really was ready and happy to be the blonde's fully bonded partner, just the idea of a wedding hadn't been something that brought excitement to Regina's mind.
However, when Emma had gone from the assured and powerful Geilgeis the people of Brocéliande and Enchanted Forest knew to the self-effacing and uncertain young woman who had been often out of her depth when serving as her Deputy in Storybrooke, Regina had swooned. Too many things had happened in a short amount of time and Emma had come a long way from the daring and uncouth runaway and bounty hunter, the high stress situations forcing her to find her footing in these strange realities she kept finding herself in, and now, the blonde was truly the Keeper of the Balance, grown up and confident leader of many people. So, to witness that moment of insecurity, it warmed the former Evil Queen's heart in ways she couldn't even explain. The girl she had fallen in love with against all odds was still there, alive, just under the surface of the poised and unflappable Savior. It had been at that second that a thought crossed her mind, a thought that almost stopped her cold. I am marrying this girl. She had waited for the unease to set in, for a shiver of fear or a tingle of anxiety to appear, but it hadn't. No, in fact, she had been thrilled beyond expectation. And, once again, she thought - I am marrying this girl, and this time she had been happy. But, when Emma had shown her the bracelet and then placed it on her wrist, Regina had been blown away. The amount of forethought and care, love and effort, both magical and physical, had stunned the woman, and if she hadn't been beyond exhausted, the level of Love that surged throughout her would have been pouring out of her as visible tendrils of magic.
She was betrothed, and there wasn't a single dark thought in her head. She was getting married and all she could feel was happiness and excitement. She was marrying Emma that very night, and she couldn't wait.
"You are giggling," a soft murmur interrupted Regina's musing, and indeed another giggle burst out of the suddenly abashed brunette. "I love it," Emma spoke as she pecked the red-tinged cheek of her lover, having used her hand to pull away Regina's chin from her shoulder where the woman had hid. "I love you," she added before she kissed the brunette deeply, drawing her into a breathtakingly emotional good morning greeting.
A while later, when the blonde lifted her upper body, leaning on her elbow placed on the pillow and hovering over the still gasping woman underneath her, Regina looked into the sparkling greens above her, taking a moment to tuck the loose golden tresses behind Emma's shoulder, before she gently caressed the Savior's cheek. "You are happy," she murmured softly as her thumb traced the soft skin under the blonde's eye.
"I am really happy," Emma confirmed as her lips stretched into a wide grin at the awe in her True Love's voice. She then kissed the woman in her arms again, her short and teasing pecks quickly turning into a playful raspberry on the brunette's neck, making Regina laugh in unrestrained glee.
Before Regina could retaliate, a sharp, and loud, knock came from the door to their quarters, intruding on the lovers. Sharing a look with her future wife, Emma chuckled lightly, and with a gentle kiss on the brunette's nose, she spoke. "Busy day." She used her magic to dress for the day and offered her hand to help her fiancee out of the bed. "You good?" Emma then asked, tenderly drawing Regina into a loose hug, peering into those caramel eyes she adored.
Smiling at the Sheriff's laconic question that meant so many things at once, Regina nodded. "I am good," she replied before she grasped her beloved by the lapels and brought her into a heart stopping make out. Only when another impatient knock sounded from the door, she pushed the blonde towards it, glad to see the Savior stumble just a bit before finding her balance again, smirking at Emma when the blonde looked back at her in obvious reluctance to leave. "Busy day," she replied back at the woman and twirled her fingers, the purple fog turning her apparel into more suitable for the guests they were about to have.
Emma nodded and suddenly filled with energy, she opened the door and turned back to Regina, completely ignoring Gwen and another of the girls as they entered the chambers. "See you tonight," she said and promptly slammed into Percival on her way out. Then, grumbling at him she patted his shoulder and added, "I'll be the one in white," before she snorted at the rhyme, her antics causing Regina to roll her eyes and chuckle. However, when her eyes met with the hazel eyes of the Last Knight of the Round Table, wide and bewildered, she couldn't help but burst into laughter, her giggles drawing a light snigger from the Knight.
"It's the Charming in her, I am afraid," Regina offered to Percival as he reluctantly stepped closer to her, as they calmed down.
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He had been sent to inform Emma that Morgan needed her for something, but the blonde had left so quickly he hadn't gotten the chance. But, before he could speak, the brunette raised her hand.
"A moment, Sir Percival," she murmured. As her eyes glinted with mischief, she cleared her throat. "Miss Swan," the sharp voice echoed in the hallway of their level of the House of Healing, and almost immediately it was followed by the hurried staccato of boots hitting the stone floor, drawing closer and closer until the blonde head peered into the room.
"Haven't called me that in a while," Emma commented as she carefully stepped into the room, her eyes on her betrothed, vividly reminded of the last time her lover had called her such, right after her excursion into the Pit and the caves.
Seeing the previous excitement slip out from the blonde's features, followed by the flash of uneasiness in those green eyes, Regina immediately addressed the woman again. "Emma," she spoke gently, inviting the Savior to her side with a simple hand gesture. "Do you know where you need to go?" she asked softly, squeezing Emma's hand in reconciliation. It was true that most of the minutiae of the day had been decided the evening before, and Emma had her own impeccable sense of direction, enabling her to find places she would need with envious accuracy, but… But, there was no need to make the locals nervous, at least not yet, as both she and the Savior had a feeling that the Inheritance ritual would not go without a hitch.
"I, uh..." The Savior frowned, peering into the patient dark eyes. "No?" she said, the short syllable oddly lengthened.
"Shouldn't you ask?" Regina continued, angling her head toward the knight beside her.
"Right," Emma mumbled before she turned to Percy. "So?"
The black man quickly explained to the blonde the quickest route to the grove, and conveyed the rest of the instructions Morgan had for her, before cautioning her that another blizzard had raged in the early hours of the day and that it was still way too cold to leave without additional coverings.
Acknowledging the man's advice with a slow nod, Emma reached for her black cloak and tossed it over her elbow, before she leaned over to kiss Regina's cheek. "Love you," she murmured against the olive skin and once more disappeared from the quarters.
At the blonde's exit, the knight turned toward the royal in the room and slightly bowed, placing his right hand over his chest, a bemused smile turning into a warm one. "Your Majesty," he said, ignoring the look Regina sent him at the address. "I am here to escort you to quarters Morgan has assigned, where she and others will attend to you."
"I am not staying here?" the brunette asked, as she gestured towards the two women bustling about.
"These chambers are for Geilgeis," Percy supplied as he offered his arm. Accepting his answer, Regina placed her hand onto his elbow and let him guide her away, but not before she spoke a few words with Gwen.
Repeating Percival's succinct directions to the apple grove under her breath, Emma opened the main door to the Marble Palace and went out into a cold and cloudy day. With her movements guided by habit rather than need, she put the not quite necessary cloak on, fastening it loosely and tossing its hood over her head; and with a raspberry-like exhale she walked down the recently cleared and salted steps. The first thing she noticed was the lively hubbub of the small village, with people leaving and entering the communal Hall in a hurry, while others were running off somewhere, down the newly made path in the snow. As if that weren't enough, Emma saw tall wooden poles planted along the way, each decorated with an iron ring that could serve as a sconce when needed, no doubt to provide holding places for torches during the night. Humming in amusement, Emma decided to follow the clear trail and set off, letting her excitement lengthen her stride as she very nearly jogged on, trusting that the obvious path would deliver her to the place where she needed to be.
She came to a small place in the forest, the path's destination, in a matter of a few minutes (however, the Sheriff assumed, at a more reasonable pace, the trek would take a quarter, and perhaps even a third of an hour). Before she stopped, she carefully shifted out of the way of the busy villagers who were carrying things she couldn't even begin to describe, and used a moment to take in the place before her.
It was a bit away from the hamlet, on a small plateau settled on the slope toward the valley below, surrounded by the higher slope on one side and rock outcroppings and crags on two sides, leaving it open to look upon the valley beneath it, the three higher sides giving it shelter from the strong winds and high snow drifts, additionally helped by the thick woods that surrounded the plateau. But, the trees here were so starkly different from straight and towering beeches, cedars, aspens, pines and many other trees Emma had found on her wanderings through Brocéliande, the dark and naked limbs of obviously fruit bearing trees on a shorter side. And, in the grove, Emma found the woman who had asked for her presence. The last remaining member of Tintagel line was walking among the trees, surrounded by a few of her pupils who maintained a loose circle around her with every step Morgan made. The sorceress was chanting a long and elaborate string of magic, her deep and melodic voice joined in harmony by those of her followers; together weaving a complicated and powerful spell that filled the sharp winter air with a tingly feel of wild magic. Magic, the purpose of which the blonde immediately guessed, and with that realization, she understood why she was called out here so long before the ceremony.
The spells Morgan was crafting were similar to the ones she had done for Regina's tree at the castle, the spells she had placed to help the tree grow much faster and stay in its late summer's splendor, with gleaming leaves and ready-to-eat fruits. However, her spells only manipulated the time of the tree's natural cycle; they didn't need to do what Morgan was doing here. Here, the queen was forcing the trees out of their winter slumber, forcing them to bloom, to bear fruits, when it wasn't the time for it, and in a few short hours. It was more than possible, Emma knew, but it demanded a lot of precision casting and a lot of power, and that was where she came in.
"Ah, Geilgeis, you're here," Morgan addressed the blonde the second she saw her standing close by, very noticeable in her black garment against the fresh snow. "Come," she waved forward, and then as soon as Emma joined her, she sprang into explanations and plans for the grove and Emma's parts in them, going into details of the ceremony, adding comments for the blonde when the Sheriff would look confused about something.
Although Emma bristled a bit under the orders from the monarch, her resentment toward the woman still present and unresolved, she listened to the directions without much complaint, only disagreeing when she knew that some things could be done better in a different way. After Morgan finished with her demands, the Savior nodded slowly in silence as she took a step away from the queen to give herself a bit more space and got to work. Closing her eyes, Emma considered the task before her and snorted softly at the unsaid expectation that this would take most of her energy and that she would need hours to recover. With a simple sigh, slow and measured, she released her tight hold on her power and, seeking the soft tendrils of the spell construct Morgan had already made, Emma allowed her magic to envelop the grove, dazzling every person around her and even a little bit sensitive to magic with the awesome display of the reason why she was considered to be the most powerful being in Enchanted Forest. Opening her eyes, Emma let her lips lift in a satisfied smirk as she stood there in silence. Needing only her focus, her directed thoughts and the ability to manipulate other people's magic she had learned from Guardian, she had little problem implementing almost all changes to the grove Morgan had demanded, appearing to all around her as the picture of relaxation, with her hands and arms motionless by her sides, while the scenery around transformed rapidly.
The trees of the grove started to turn green with leaves and bloom, mere seconds passing from the stark nakedness of black bark to sprouting magnificent canopies and pinkish white flowers that released the recognizable apple scent in the air. With a small added push of her magic, the tree at the center of the grove started bearing fruits, its branches slightly bending lower with its bounty. However, bringing the trees to their early summer and autumn glory was not all she did.
She also used her power to sweep away the snow and frost beneath the trees, bringing the soft grass to life, all the while she marked the position of the magic bearing stone in the grove in her mind. Additionally, she took in all the materials the hard working villagers had already brought over and with a small direction of her mind, she assembled them, following Morgan's vision, saving the people hours and hours of work. But, not only that. Knowing that the place could use a bit more light and heat during the night, she went into her memories of her time in the smithy and finding what she wanted in a corner, covered in dust and grime from disuse, she used her magic to summon eight chest high braziers from the farthest part of the smithy, where Roan stored the unnecessary things. Adding a bit of flair, she reshaped them into beautiful and intricate iron sculptures, each representing something different, and set them in a wide circle with its center the spot Morgan had had shown the blonde where the marrying couple would stand, and fixed them in place under many protective wards, keeping the trees and people safe from the open flames that would burn through the night.
Done with it, the Savior gently pulled in her magic, letting the tendrils of it slowly dissipate around the grove, making the air sparkle in all the colors of her powers, and she turned to face the still struck speechless queen of Camelot. Enjoying the stunned expression on the woman, Emma mockingly bowed, adding a bit of flare with her hands, and casually strolled away, not letting any of the small strain she had experienced wielding such power show on her face, nor her movements. With a soft hum of a cheerful tune, she was gone, walking down the way to the hamlet, adding some more improvements to the path, along the way.
In silence interrupted only by the murmur of a busy Palace, Percival escorted Regina to the ground floor of the House of Healing, leading the way into the residential part of it, passing by the queen's private quarters, and stopping only a few doors down, where the corridor ended, its end covered in a large ornately carved wooden panel hidden in shadows created by the weak oil lamps that demarcated Morgan's rooms. As Regina approached the panel, the knight knocked on the dark wood, before his fingers found a release clutch and pushed one side of the panel inside, turning it into a cleverly disguised door. With a welcoming smile, he stepped aside and gestured to Regina to precede him into the newly discovered room.
The brunette offered a slight nod in appreciation as she passed by him and entered what seemed to be another huge suite, even larger that the one she had spent some time in the night before, in presence of the Mistress of the House, absently greeting the two people inside as she looked around, seeing the space for the first time with her own eyes. A well lit sitting room, with several chairs, low tables and stools spread throughout, was warmed up by an enormous blazing fireplace that nicely offset the wide windows taking up almost one whole wall of the room, uncovered and open to the bright light from outside. To the sides opposite to the entrance and the windows were two doors, leading to other rooms, Regina knew from the memories as she walked deeper into the quarters. And, there in the well lit center of the room, the brunette saw the familiar young healer, standing by a simple but not less beautiful wooden table, laden with simple finger foods and two carafes of some drink. With a small, sweeping motion of her hand, the girl, Briana, invited the woman to join her and break her fast before they continued with the agenda for the day.
When Regina came closer to the table, picking through the offerings, Aileen cleared her throat. "We can take it from here, Percy," she spoke, patting the man's upper arm as she directed him toward the door.
The man smiled indulgently at the shifter before he smartly clicked his heels and inclined his head in greeting. "My ladies, your Majesty," he offered before he turned and leaned toward the she-wolf. "I'll send some of my men with Selwyn, in case you need anything," he murmured before he left, closing the panel behind him with barely a sound.
"So," Regina looked up at Aileen, before her eyes slid toward the young healer, her hand holding a small bit of cheese in front of her. "What is the plan?" she asked, punctuating her question with a bite of the morsel in her hand.
"You should eat, your Majesty," Briana spoke quietly as she poured an apple scented drink from one of the carafes into a small wooden goblet, offering it to the brunette. "The tailor will come soon, and then we'll start."
"The tailor?" Regina hummed as she sat down at the nearest chair, her mind already swirling with plans. She picked at the food, getting more enjoyment from the apple drink than the morsels, but she knew that she would need the energy if she were to meet her beloved for the ceremony that night. Luckily, not long after she had had her fill, the panel opened again, and the man she had met only days before entered, followed by several other men laden with trunks and materials for anything and everything the heir might have in mind for the wedding, along with a man carrying a suspiciously heavy bundle of something white.
"Your Majesty," Selwyn bowed deeply after he approached Regina, stopping a few steps away. "I know we have discussed your garments for the ceremony previously, but since then, our Lady has welcomed you to her wardrobe, your Majesty. You are free to use anything you like, in any way you like, if that is something that would interest you." He gestured toward the trunks that were now set on the floor by the wall, their lids opened and showing the treasures inside. The men carrying them quickly left the room, bowing in respect as they passed by the brunette who had gotten up to inspect the colorful dresses, tunics and other assorted garments within. "But, if you are determined to stay with the previous agreement, I have brought the materials you asked for," he said, as he waved two of the three remaining men forward, telling them quietly to place the materials on the longest table in the room, before sending them away. He then clapped his hands and invited the woman to join him as he showed what he had brought for her, pleased to see her nod and smile at the goods before her, her fingers caressing the swaths of fabrics on the table.
"And, him?" Regina quietly asked about the silent, a bit older, soldier standing by the entrance, still carrying his burden without a word, after giving Selwyn the detailed instructions about the dress she planned to wear that evening. After the tailor would make the bare bones of the dress, Regina would help him with her magic to finish the work of weeks in just a few hours.
The tailor looked at the man, before his eyes slid over the shifter and the healer in the room. "Ah," he sighed. "Those are the clothes I have made for Geilgeis, your Majesty, but I fear those are not suitable for an event of this momentous importance," he said as he bowed his head in front of Regina.
The former Evil Queen pursed her lips in thought, as she remembered her conversation she had had with Emma in the bathtub. Even though the Sheriff had agreed about the 'whites', the brunette had known Emma had doubts about showing up to the rites in something that was supposed to be her everyday outfit, and here was an opportunity to do something about it. "May I see it?" Regina asked both the tailor and the man holding onto it.
"Of course," Selwyn agreed, but even before that, the soldier had come closer to the brunette and lowered the bundle on one of the free tables and expertly spread it out, placing the boots on the floor. When he was finished, he got out of the way and stood back by the door, letting the other four take in the clothes.
"White Swan, indeed," Regina murmured as she fingered the leather tunic, looking at the symbol worked into it. Chuckling at the memory of Emma's annoyance with the whiteness of the clothes, she glanced at the female Wolf, offering her a smirk. But, then she turned back to the garments. The vest, the tunic and all other offerings were beautiful, and incredibly soft to the touch, but together they made a sort of an outdoorsman uniform rather than attire for festivities. However, with Emma's body in mind, not that blonde was ever far away from it, Regina had an idea of an ensemble that might be more suitable for the rites. With a light step, she walked to the second trunk she had looked through and pulled out a man's ivory silk brocade tunic decorated with silver and gold threads, the very thing that had caught her eyes when the trunk lid had been lifted. She turned around and brought it to the table holding Emma's future clothes, her eyes going to the tailor when she heard him choke on air at the sight of the tunic.
Since Selwyn's eyes were glued to the silk garment, Regina turned to Aileen, but finding only confusion there, she then turned to the young healer, catching her eyes and raising her eyebrow in silent question.
"That," Briana started as the insistent eyes bore into her. "I didn't know she had that, still…" Then, shaking off whatever had come over her, the healer looked at the brunette. "This was made for his Majesty, the King," she said haltingly, as her eyes darted toward the beautiful fabric. "It was intended to be a gift for his birthday, but…"
"Oh." The brunette looked down at the brocade and frowned. "If this is too special, then perhaps," she started to speak as she reached for it, but it was Selwyn who interrupted her.
"No," he said suddenly, his loud voice breaking the uncomfortable tension in the room and startling Regina enough to jerk back her hand. "Our Lady has personally prepared these trunks for your perusal, your Majesty," he said in a more moderate tone, before he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the garment splayed on top of the white leather things. It had been his best work, and he had worked on it for months and months. He had sent out merchants and couriers to find him the best silk threads, his people reaching even the Imperial City in the search for the perfect ivory color. He then had slaved over the loom, waving in the gold and silk threads into the silk weave by himself, and after the cloth had been made, he tailored it, stitch by stitch, pouring every ounce of his talent into his work. Selwyn sighed and turned toward the heir and pressed his hand over his heart. "And, I, your Majesty… I would be immensely honored if your betrothed is to wear this or something made of this to your nuptials."
Regina considered him for a moment. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, your Majesty," he said, offering her a smile as he nodded. He then turned and took the tunic into his hands, careful not to crease or dirty the fabric. "I made it for the one I believed to be the paragon of good. That Geilgeis herself would wear it…" He looked back at the brunette with a delighted expression on his face. "It is meant to be worn," he added, a touch of pleading in his tone.
"Well." Pleased with his permission, as it were, Regina came to the table and took the tunic out of the tailor's hands, murmuring thanks at his offering. With a few flicks of her hand, she enlarged the table that held Emma's things, and she placed the tunic on the newly freed surface. Then, she picked up the leather pants and boots, placing them beside the garment. In a slow, thoughtful voice, she explained what she had in mind for the Savior, taking both Selwyn's and the two women's suggestions. It took the former Evil Queen only a short while, with Selwyn's help, to make something that Emma would wear and that it would be appropriate for the upcoming ritual. And, when the clothes were done, she gently folded each piece of the ensemble for the rites, and on top of them, she placed the assorted accessories she had created with her magic for Emma to wear. Placing them beside the other white leather things Selwyn had intended for Geilgeis, she waved the Wolf over. "When you go to her, bring her these," Regina murmured softly, as her fingers caressed the silk garments, getting a soft, agreeing smile in return.
With Emma's outfit sorted, Regina and her company focused on her own dress for the ritual. The ruby red silk velvet quickly gained shape under the tailor's masterful hands, helped by magic and healer's nimble fingers, and in two hours, the basic form of the dress was done, needing the adornments and details worked in.
Taking a moment for herself, Regina poured herself another cup of the apple concoction and took a seat by the windows, letting the fresh, and brisk, air cool her a bit down. It had been decades since she had the last dress done by a court tailor, and it had some uncomfortable memories attached to it, memories that bore that trademark fogginess of her last weeks in the Enchanted Forest before she had enacted the curse. Her temper had been atrocious then, her single-mindedness not allowing for any deviations or delays, but she had no doubt that her father, Henry, had intervened wherever he could, saving many a servant from her wrath.
She had worn black then. Black with barely there crimson red or purple accents, giving up on colors, as she had steeped herself in the darkness of both her magic and her mind. And, on the day of the curse, the only splash of color had been the crimson decorations in her hair. It seemed fitting, now, that her first formal dress in this world would be predominantly red, in some way a photo negative of the colors she had worn on her last day, this particular shade one of the main colors of Tintagel. She would have preferred a deeper hue like crimson, but this time, she would bow to the tradition of both Tintagel and Camelot. And, added details would be made of black precious stones, both complying with the idea of reversed image and the Tintagel banner.
"Regina," the shifter called out, drawing the woman out of her musings. When the brunette looked up at the older woman, Aileen motioned toward the door as she and the old soldier were carrying the things intended for the Geilgeis.
The Mayor placed the goblet on the closest table and walked to the entrance. "Don't let her get too broody," she spoke softly as the Wolf waited on her to open the door, getting a soft hum and a nod in return. "And, remind her about the sash for binding," she added with a gentle smile. "No doubt she's forgotten about it."
"Sash?" Aileen queried, tilting her head.
"She knows," Regina said. "Just, tell her."
"Alright." With another nod, the Wolf walked through the door Regina had opened only seconds before, quickly followed by the old soldier, who had only paused to bow to the brunette before leaving.
Regina didn't close the door as she could see Morgan coming down the hallway, and judging by the slight frown on the woman's face, the former Evil Queen supposed that the meeting with her beloved hadn't gone just quite as the ruler of Brocéliande had planned. "What did she do?" she simply asked, standing aside to let the dark skinned woman pass into the chamber. As soon as the queen entered the room, Regina let the panel close, leaning against the wood with her back, watching the older woman stride toward the table with refreshments and pour herself a drink.
Morgan hummed softly as she glanced toward the tailor and the dress he was working on, before she focused back on her chosen heir. "She proved a point," she said quietly, then sipped from her cup. At Regina's questioning glance, she added, "The work I had assumed would last for hours, she did in mere seconds, before she walked back to the House."
"Her power surprised you?"
Morgan lowered her cup and pulled a chair, settling into it. "No, I assumed she was incredibly powerful, her title guaranteed it. What surprised me was her precision, her clarity of casting. She didn't just work within the framework I placed over the grove, she completely overtook it and made it so elegant and elaborate…" Inviting Regina to sit beside her at the table, Morgan ruefully shook her head, her lips lifting in a barely there smile. "She proved herself a master of the arts, or rather, mistress."
The brunette chuckled. Emma still felt a bit prickly about the woman, and with the insider knowledge that the wards of the place had already chosen her as the master, the Sheriff was no doubt showcasing some of her power in order to put Morgan, the Mistress of magic and healing in this fiefdom, in her place. "She does chafe under authority of others," she idly remarked before she turned the conversation to the wedding rites, distracting the woman from her beloved's antics.
The rest of the afternoon for Regina went by so quickly, between the dress making, light conversation with the women and the tailor, running the gamut of topics from her children to past achievements of Tintagel to Emma's particular magic, a long 'relaxing' bath in scented water, and an after-late-lunch nap. A nap Morgan had insisted on, even bringing her a mild sleeping potion, as the rites would go until the morning next day, but as Regina had been overcome by lassitude from the bath, she had agreed easily to it. And, now, she was standing by the window in what had served as her temporary bedroom, dressed only in a light robe, sipping a cup of strong tea and watching the stars appear in the night, the clear skies promising a kind weather for the night that followed.
When she remembered her bath, her lips upturned in an affectionate smile, and she used the forefinger of the hand that was holding her tea to trace the outline of her mouth. The mouth that still tingled with the faint trace of magic from what had happened during her soak.
After being led to the heated bathroom with a large wooden tub filled with steaming water, Regina dismissed the young healer, convincing the girl that she could manage by herself. It had been so long since she had been attended to and she had gotten used to doing her own ablutions, disregarding a few playful and tender baths she had shared with her beloved. Having the girl present was odd for her, though it only left her with a small niggling feeling of unease, reminding her of her servants at the castle, she didn't want anything detracting from her preparations for the rites that night.
Having taken her clothes and placed the towel at close reach, she went with her hand through the murky white water that emanated pleasant scents of many flowers, checking its temperature. Satisfied with its warmth, the woman slowly entered the tub, sinking into the water, letting out a long and pleasured sigh when it covered her up to her chin, her head resting on a small hanging pillow on one side of the tub. Guided by an almost forgotten instinct, she wove a small and simple spell to keep the water from cooling and the room from letting sounds out, before she let the warmth ease some of her excitement and anxiousness. Immediately her mind went to the day before, when her beloved's body had been pressed against her while they had relaxed in the soothing waters, her thoughts easily conjuring the feel of her lover's skin gliding over hers, the tickling of the haphazardly put up hair.
Regina had learned most about the blonde's body on the night they had spent at the Tripoint, having memorized each divot and mark on that pale skin. Long before, she had learned the scent of her beloved and the way the blonde locks would fall down and curl and sway if not bound tightly by a hair tie. Her knowledge had been further expanded by her careful study and exploration in the magically resistant cave down in the valley. It had been there that she had personally learned about the ticklish spot in the crease of Emma's left hip; she had learned the awesome trick to ratcheting Emma's arousal by a strategically placed bite at the back of the neck; she had discovered the calming caress over the sensitive skin between the shoulder blades. Regina, and Emma both, learned new things about themselves and each other with each new encounter. Even on the nights and in the moments that weren't filled with heart-pumping amorous activities, when they were too exhausted either mentally or physically, or both, the beautiful and profound intimacy between them nourished them and their connection in the manner Regina couldn't explain. The affectionate togetherness would fill her heart and she would feel whole in ways she had never felt before. Not that she had been incomplete before, but now she was something more.
So when Regina imagined Emma, letting her mind conjure a fantasy of her lover, it was as if she could feel the phantom touches she imagined the Savior's body would create as it slid against hers in the hot water of the tub. Her body reacted quickly to the almost too real pictures in her mind, arousal surging through her.
Using her hands to administer soft touches, she surrendered completely to the fantasy, her breath shortening, her heart beating faster, while certain areas of her body tightened despite the relaxing heat of the water. Letting out a short gasp of her beloved's name, she brought her hand to her crotch, moving it in the way Emma usually would, teasing and caressing, before pressing down in hard and fast flicks.
Too deeply into her fantasy of her beloved fucking her, Regina didn't realize her magic was rising, moved with all the emotions and hormones flowing through her. Soft, barely noticeable mist of Regina's magical colors, purple and red, filled the room before disappearing slowly into the air, before getting replenished from the body of the woman writhing and moaning in the tub. Only when the insistent touch forced her to crest over into blinding pleasure did Regina open her eyes, noticing the slight tint to the steam surrounding her. "Shit," she uttered before she started weakly laughing, her lungs still recovering from the shortage of breath.
But, her laughter stopped, and she startled with surprise when she felt the familiar magic, but not her own, glide slowly over her wet skin, raising goosebumps along the way. Too quickly, the invisible tendrils covered her arms and legs and she could no longer move, pinned in place by the powerful magic of her beloved. "How are you doing this?" Regina asked curiously, not really expecting an answer, as she laid back, without struggle, interested to see what the Geilgeis had in mind.
Regina felt a light tickle pass over her face, focusing on her eyelids and obeying, she closed her eyes, sighing deeply in satisfaction when the tendrils of magic took on the shape of hands. A pair of hands whose touch the brunette would recognize anywhere. They were hotter than the still steaming water, leaving a distinctive feel as they passed, the fingers and palms tickling her skin with their light touches. First, they sank into Regina's hair, gently massaging the brunette's scalp, before they slid down to the woman's neck, wrapping around it in a sensuous caress, a curious finger passing over Regina's moist lips, prying them apart, before the hands moved on to the shoulders, the magical tendrils barely displacing the water as they went under the surface, unbothered by the physical barrier of the side of the tub Regina was leaning against. Gentle and slow, the invisible hands slid down Regina's back, following the spine, before the presence grew against the brunette's back, suddenly giving the feel of a full bodied female, even though she could still feel the treated wood of the tub pressed against her, while the hands, now attached to invisible arms and shoulders, slipped around her waist, holding her closely, fingers teasingly tracing the skin just underneath her breasts, the highly erotic and possessive move making the former Queen shudder in need for the blonde.
"Mo Ghradh," slipped through Regina's lips in a sigh, her magic reacting to such a heavy and direct presence of Emma's, turning her words to Elvish unwittingly, the spoken words sending pulsing tingles through the power the both women wielded. "Tha feum agam ort," the brunette gasped, still unable to suppress her reaction to the connection between them, speaking the words that due to the power of the magic, the woman was sure Emma would hear and feel despite the walls and floors between them. And, then, as she felt a pressure of a firm but soft magical presence on her cheek, recognizing the chin and jaw of her beloved's face, she sensed her magic thrum, the words causing such reaction coming into her mind - Tha mi an seo - unheard by her ears but known and understood anyways.
The hands moved, one going up and one down, and that is when Regina stopped thinking, her mind only focusing on her body's escalating and overwhelming need and the invisible limbs expertly dancing over her swelled nubs, helped by the over all intoxicating presence of their mingling magic that stimulated her skin, making it ever more sensitive to the knowing touch.
Unable to move, and in complete surrender to her True Love, Regina felt the fire of her arousal lick at her nerves, enflaming her quickly, bringing her to heights of need, despite the fact that she had climaxed only minutes before. The Savior's magic brought her to the edge, but instead of letting her fall over, it retreated for a moment, forcing a frustrated and disappointed moan from the woman who still kept her eyes closed. Before she could speak up in complaint, the touch returned, soft and slow, keeping her hovering just at that line before the mind-blowing rapture, but not allowing her to cross over or to calm down. Just before any further sensation would turn uncomfortable, the hands started moving quicker, in sharp and hard actions bringing Regina to completion, twice in quick succession, with one peak rolling into the other, leaving her barely conscious in the water and entirely breathless, shaking from the powerful orgasms, still held by the phantom limbs of her lover.
Not long after that, when Regina returned somewhat to her senses, the magic withdrew with an affectionate caress, almost reluctant to disappear, with a final kiss dropping onto the parted lips, leaving the brunette to finish her ablutions in languorous slowness, before she wrapped herself in a towel and exited the bathroom into a small bedroom that was part of the quarters she had been assigned for the preparation. There, finding a small note from the Mistress of the House along with a small goblet with a recognizable odor of sleeping potion, the brunette drank from it and collapsed on the freshly changed bed and sank to sleep almost immediately.
With her musing of the past over and her contemplation returning to the present, Regina watched the lights showing up in the skies, her mind going to the topic that was never too far away from her thoughts. Emma would follow different stars as her task took her away, Regina knew, the impending separation casting a shadow on her till then, excited and joyous mood.
"Deep thoughts?" a voice intruded, breaking her pensive mood, and she glanced toward the door, finding her hostess there. Regina hummed in confirmation as she returned her eyes to the sky. "Troubling ones?" Morgan asked as she approached the brunette.
"In the days after we leave Brocéliande, Emma is going to leave," Regina murmured, giving voice to her heavy ruminations. She would leave for Agrabah, and then, she would leave again, and regardless Emma's refusal to think about it, the former Evil Queen knew a thing or two about restitution rituals, and a sacrifice was always needed. It was highly likely that, despite the Savior's best intentions, she would not return from the Origin Point.
Morgan watched her carefully and after a long minute, she leaned against the sill and placed her hand on Regina's closest arm, incidentally the one without the cup. "Have you reconsidered the rites?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her expression neutral but traces of concern seeped through.
Regina snapped her head up, looking at the older woman in bewilderment. "No!" she exclaimed at once, her sharp tongue causing Morgan to retreat slightly. "No," Regina added with a small apology in her gesture. "I want to marry her. I already see myself as her wife, and she as mine."
"Ah," the Mistress of the House sighed with understanding. "Her future is uncertain and she has duties she cannot ignore, ones that would often take her away." When her summation received a brief nod, Morgan smiled kindly at the woman. "Those of great destinies are almost always shared with the world." Her consoling hand rubbed Regina's forearm. "All we can do is love them, and enjoy them for the time we have with them."
"I came to that understanding as well," Regina spoke after a resigned sigh, turning away from the window and taking another sip of her cooling tea. "It just sometimes feels like all we ever do is wait for each other to meet again." First, there had been that jaunt to Enchanted Forest via the hat, then sudden outing to New York, the Curse of Darkness technically had not been a voyage, but Emma had been absent, then their separation at the docks of Safe Haven…
"Yes, but aren't reunions worth it?" Morgan queried, a teasing smirk quickly passing over her features. "And, I must admit, Geilgeis looks like a generous and experienced lover." Both the fact that Regina had told Morgan what the ritual at the Temple had actually done, noting that the younger woman could remember glimpses of the Camelot's former Queen's life, and their time spent in conversation about Regina's personal life had brought a sort of familiarity between the women, often joking with each other during the day. But, this Regina did not expect.
"Oh, she is," Regina returned, raising her eyebrow at the comment, her prompt and unabashed delivery making the sorceress laugh boisterously.
After her gregarious laughter slowed down, turning into affectionate chuckles, Morgan poured herself the remains of the tea and saluted her Heir. "Love suits you, little Afal," she said with a wide grin. "And, that is a gift unmatched, so make sure you hold on to it, and not taint it wondering about uncertainties." Her countenance turned serious. "She is the Savior, and as such, her life might be unduly short," she said, gently, stopping the woman from mustering a denial. "Your worrying over it would not change anything in the long while, except poison the time you do have with her." With an aggrieved sigh, Morgan touched her bracelet, her fingers tracing the name of her son. "The greatest gift in life is Love. It can fuel miracles and chase away miseries. But, with love comes loss. It is inevitable." She wistfully smiled at the runic lettering on her wrist, her eyes misting over. "That is the bargain we make, to have such power in our lives. And, it is never gone. If they die, we go on and remember. Because they live on in us. Through us." With a long shuddering sigh, Morgan wiped the few tears that had slipped out and with a trembling smile, she looked at Regina.
The brunette considered the black woman, moved by her words, and her lingering fears seemed to be soothed for the time being. However, she needed to ask, as she had been introduced to the possibility of going back in time. "With what you know now, would you do it? If you knew then how it would turn out, would you have still…?"
"Would I love Arthur, knowing the heartache he would cause me?" Morgan prompted gently, and seeing the woman reluctantly nod in answer, her smile widened. "Or would I avoid the pain, and never know my son or his father? Not for all there is in this, or any other, world. No matter the pain, no matter the heartbreak, I would go through it again, and again, and yet again, just to spend a moment more with my darling boy. And, before Merlin's corruption, Arthur was the love of my life. Even after, mired in jealousies, greed and suspicion, there was enough of the man I loved in him that I would not disregard that time either." She walked to Regina and reached for her arms, holding them tenderly as she leaned in and kissed the woman's forehead. "And I will tell you what Dordéan once told me: 'For every moment of casual cruelty and dismissal, for every machination and plot, for every injury of my pride and person, I stay. And I will stay. Not because I love or am somehow beholden to Cora, but because of the loving smiles my girl bestows on me. For Regina, I would suffer through worse. For a moment of her happiness, I will give the world, if it is in my power.'"
The second her father's Tintagel nickname passed Morgan's lips, Regina stiffened in trepidation. During her stay at Brocéliande, she had learned more about the man, than throughout her whole life, and whatever she had learned had only made her love him more, and the guilt for his death, heavier. She had not been blind to his faults and weaknesses, but with each new bit of information about him, she learned more about his love for her, and with that, she could forgive him everything - because he had been the only one to love her unconditionally, steadily, even through her darkest time. And, he had given her the world. The Curse wouldn't have worked if not for his heart.
"It is time for you to forgive yourself for his death," Morgan added, as she watched the younger woman carefully, seeing the impact Henry's words had on the sorceress. "He gave his life for you, and his wishes are fulfilled." At Regina's flinch at her blatant words, she pushed. "Let your guilt go before you bind yourself to the Love his sacrifice enabled. Do not carry such a burden into your new life." At her words, Regina's eyes teared up and a soft, strangled sob came out of her, quickly followed by another and another, before she began sobbing in earnest. Bringing the woman into a gentle embrace, the Mistress of the House of Healing smiled as she kissed the temple of her Heir, her hands soothing comfort on Regina's back, as the former Evil Queen cleansed her heart from the weight of her father's death it had borne. Like a lanced boil, the guilt seeped out, at last.
Morgan had tried to get Regina to do so earlier, but only now, the younger woman was receptive to her intervention. Regina herself, and Geilgeis in great measure, had managed to deal with most of the regrets a life as a villain had wrought, but this remaining one needed an extra push from someone who had known Henry, and knew about his love for his daughter, by blood or not.
Half an hour later, when the younger woman's tears tapered off, the sorceress slowly disentangled them and bringing her hands to Regina's face, she tenderly wiped the crusted salt tracks with her thumbs before she kissed her forehead again, offering her motherly benediction to the woman, standing in for her dear friend. With an expectant smile, she tapped Regina's nose before releasing her. "Go, wash your face, child. We should start preparing." Glancing at the skies outside, she added. "The time is almost upon us."
With the aid of magic, it took them little time to assemble everything. Regina put on the dress, sparing a moment or two to admire the style and the cut of it in the mirror, quite pleased by the end result. With a flick, she had applied small traces of make-up, only accentuating her features, giving her a softer look, and yet with another she settled her hair, letting it loose over the shoulders. Even if she had been tempted to put on some of her elaborate hairstyles of old, which she hadn't been, she had been told not to, and the reason for it became quite obvious when Morgan walked to her, followed by Briana carrying a small, deep violet, velvet pillow with an elegant, beautifully crafted circlet on it. A gold coronet, encrusted with small rubies and black diamonds forming a stylized sigil of the Tintagel family, and even though it was simple in form, the circlet showed great artistry in the way the gold had been wrought and shaped.
"This is the official mark of the ruler of Tintagel and Brocéliande. I give it to you early, because in the morning it will be the truth, and it is proper for you to have all consideration of my family, as you are my Heir." Indicating that Regina should bend her head slightly, Morgan picked the circlet and placed it on the brunette's head. "Like it was made for you," the sorceress murmured when the circlet comfortably settled on Regina's forehead, her hands gently falling to the Heir's shoulders, squeezing them in affection but still careful not to crease the dress. Then, with a hurried smile, Morgan excused herself, leaving the quarters quickly, most of the people in them leaving with her, with only Regina, and Percival remaining behind.
The man, now clean shaven and perfectly dressed in black velvet jacket-like tunic reaching half of his black leather encased thighs, with a high collar and ruby and gold encrusted ornamental embroidered bands on collar, end of the sleeves and down the middle, by the opening, which was held close by gold hooks and eyes, expertly woven into the embroidery. Around his waist, black leather belt was fastened with a gold buckle in the shape of a dragon, and to his right side, tied by the baldric, his sword was resting by his hip. Percival's attire was completed by a light cape attached to his shoulders with two gold brooches, the deep purple cloth with numbers of equal-sided golden crosses sawn in hanging down to his knees, and Regina recognized pattern as Percival's standard.
Smirking at Regina's appraising look, he stood still, giving her a moment, before he reached behind him and strewed wide a ruby colored cloak, inclining his head to the woman to turn around so he could place it gently over her shoulders, a large gold brooch with a giant ruby and surrounded by black jade stones was used to hold the folds together.
When everything else was in place, and a small velvet pouch placed at his belt, Percival offered his hand to Regina and they set off towards the grove, where her beloved was already waiting.
When she approached the village, Emma hesitated in her step for a minute. Judging by Morgan's surprised expression and the awe on people's faces, the blonde surmised that she had finished her tasks in the grove far too easily, her speed rather unpredicted. Following that, it would be logical to guess that she was not expected back in her rooms for quite a while still. Though Gwen and the other girl were already there, no doubt to prepare everything for the afternoon of what constituted as pampering in Brocéliande, Emma didn't feel like returning just yet, in her mind the entire endeavor not needing more than a couple of hours at the most. So, at the loose ends, Emma hummed in decision as she continued walking, but instead to the village, she went to the viewpoint where Regina had first broached the subject of getting married.
Using her hand to clear out a small space on the bench from the thick snow, Emma wrapped herself in the cloak and sat down, feeling slightly cocooned by the waist high snow and warm cloak, even though her own blessed magic was good enough at keeping her comfortable, suffering no temperature effects from the enveloping snow.
It hadn't been that long before she had that conversation with Regina at this place. But, a lot had changed since then, and now she regretted the way she had pushed her lover away. They had talked a lot about their issues, during the times they had together, touching some of them the night before, and now, Emma could honestly say that she wanted this with her whole heart, without reservation or doubts, not even begrudging the way it had come about. There was, of course, unspoken agreement that they would have a 'proper' ceremony for their families and friends, and it would be much more elaborate than this 'simple' rite in the grove, but she didn't mind that she would have to get married twice. Not when Regina would be there both times.
Her thoughts went back to the evening before. She had been surprised by her lover's action, and when she had been presented with the engagement ring, her mind had frozen for that bit of time. Emma had spent many an hour talking with the people she had been closest to in Brocéliande, except Regina, and doing research by herself, stealing moments of time here and there to complete her own betrothal offering, debating with herself about what she could place on the weave, wary of anything that could even a little resemble a mark that would imply ownership or possession, and yet carry a meaning for the two True Loves. During small breaks in the warded smithy, she had talked at length with the artisans, carefully considering their suggestions and instructions, and finally creating the beautiful work Regina had later called a masterpiece. Although she had made a somewhat similar bracelet once before, the difference between Ariel's form-changing one and Regina's engagement weave had been vast. Instead of conjuring materials and using magic to simply will them into a certain shape, weaving desired spells into it during the short process, as she had done for Ariel, Emma had found the gold and the stones she had wanted to use, and she had set to work. First, she had prepared the materials: slowly melting the gold and adding copper until it achieved the color she had wanted for it, then using magic, she had wrought the metal strings to be used in the weave, all the while chanting various blessings over it, adding magical properties to the material; next, she had cut and polished the stones, inscribing the smallest elvish glyphs on the surfaces that would be hidden by the weave, grounding some more magic this way, and lastly, she had created clasps so tiny that would be almost invisible when the weave was closed. Finally, after she had assembled everything, adding further touches to it, she had bound the magic to it, making it an enchantment heavy object, one in line with her own chainmail. Apart from simple ones, like the one to make the weave always fit, not too snug or loose, or the one keeping the clasps closed until Regina wanted it off, there were various charms of protection, added blessings and many other things. She had not explained any of those to Regina, first because she had been overwhelmed by her own emotions and Regina's acceptance of the gift, and later because they had been busy with other things.
But, in all that weave making, not once had Emma thought that she would get a ring in return. She had known about the wedding bands because the rite demanded them, but she hadn't expected her lover to go to that extra step. Truthfully, she had not even considered it at all, apart from that small idea of not proposing with the ring because the King had done so. She had so instinctively taken the position of the one asking for marriage, and with it the assumption that it is on her to give, and not receive the betrothal gifts, but honestly, she should have known better. She should have known that as much thought she had given to Regina, the woman would give her in return.
Taking her hand out of the warmth, she let the Sun catch on the stones of the ring, her lips pulling into a loving smile almost instantly when she saw the sparkles. The ring was very elegant, and looked amazing with the diamonds and the emerald, but Emma did not feel weird about having it on her hand. She had grown up in poverty and it left its marks on her taste of jewelry later in life. She had always eschewed more elaborate pieces, preferring simple silver trinkets instead, and in the times when she had to play the part of someone rich for the bounties, the high-end jewelry she would wear would always make feel awkward and ridiculous. So, it actually floored her how accepting she was of it on her hand.
After spending a few more minutes admiring the light play, she chuckled at herself and shook her head, rising to her feet. Shaking the snow off her cloak, she walked back to the path and, making a split decision, she directed herself toward the smithy.
"Ah, Geilgeis," she was greeted by the corpulent blacksmith when she came closer to the lonely cottage. The man was sitting on the short bench in front of it, leaning against the outer wall beside the open door, his hands busy as he was buffing a helmet, polishing it to gleaming. "I guess you are to blame for that?" he asked, using his head to motion inside. Following his direction Emma walked to the door, looking in and grimaced sheepishly at what she found. When she had taken the braziers, she had forgotten about the things Roan had kept stacked against them, and now, those things were strewn over the corner of the smithy. Quickly, with an apology in her eyes, she waved her hand and fixed the mess, before she took a seat beside the man.
"Sorry about that," she murmured, watching him work.
The man chuckled, the deep sound resonating through him and the bench. "No worries," he replied before he glanced at her. "Aren't you supposed to get all done for the do with your lass?" His eyes glinted with laughter as he narrowed his eyebrows at her, leaning to her side and using his elbow to lightly tap her. "Should I escort you back? In case you're thinking of running?" His faux serious tone was quickly lost when he saw Emma rolling her eyes at him and suddenly he broke, the booming peal of laughter escaping him, his mirth drawing a chuckle out of the Savior as well.
With a wide grin still on her face, Emma shook her head at the man, waiting for him to settle with rare indulgence. "Have time still," she spoke up when he calmed down. Then, after a moment spent in idle observance of his work she glanced away, her eyes roaming over the village. "We'll be leaving on the second morning or thereabouts."
Roan nodded. "Aye." A deep sigh followed. "Percival has already prepared his armor. The rest of the people going with you will be ready to set out when you or your lass give the word." When Geilgeis turned her head his way, he dropped the rag onto his knee and placed the helmet on the bench beside him. "After the Mistress sails for Avalon, the rest of those leaving will follow." His eyes found the green ones. "It will be a long journey. There aren't many horses left and the oxen had died out long ago."
"Will you manage?"
A resolute nod followed Emma's concerned question. "It will help that we will be traveling light, taking only necessities, leaving the things we have brought here for those who remain in Brocéliande." Roan inclined his head and lowered his voice. "Her Majesty did mention that many tools of trade are at her castle, intact and ready to be claimed," he added in a conspiratorial tone, and by the way he said those words, Emma knew that Regina had indeed promised to take care of them.
Then, Roan stood up, and quickly pulled the blonde to her feet. "Go on, Geilgeis," he said gently, placing his hand onto her shoulder. "You've dawdled enough here. No need to risk them sending a search for you," he joked lightly, before he patted her back and lightly pushed her away, toward the village. "Be seeing you tonight," he shouted from behind her, getting a lighthearted wave from the blonde.
It didn't take her long to reach her quarters. But, even with purposeful delays, she was under the impression that she had arrived too soon, because at the sound of her steps, Gwen looked up from the things she had been fiddling with on the table and blinked in surprise several times, seeing Emma there. "I can come back later," the blonde hesitantly said, her foot hovering over the doorstep of her room.
The young healer immediately straightened up and stepped forward. "Nonsense," she muttered, and reached for the Savior, pulling her inside and closing the door behind her. "Keith has just left, and I thought he'd forgotten something," the girl explained as she motioned to the table, where a breakfast spread was arranged, letting Emma take off her cloak.
Dropping the heavy cover onto the made bed, Emma approached the table, taking in the food. "So, what are we doing?" she asked, her hand going to one piece of shredded bread loaf before dipping it in something that looked like jam. Looking at the young woman, Emma took a bite out of the bread and hummed at the taste. Her guess had been right, it was jam. Some kind of a tart berry, if she wasn't mistaken.
"For start, you are breaking your fast, and then, there is plenty to do," Gwen spoke, pointedly motioning to the chair beside the blonde. When the Savior obeyed, grinning at the woman, the healer explained some of the steps they would do, as soon as Geilgeis assuaged her hunger. As they had spent considerable time together, the rapport between them was easy and comfortable, and Emma quickly agreed to Gwen's plan, surrendering to the healer's attention. Breakfast was done in fast and quiet nibbles, while the girl puttered around the room. Seeing that Emma was finished, Gwen placed an unbleached linen tunic and pants in the Savior's hands and told her to remove all her clothes and change into the offered garments, before she went into the bathroom, telling Emma to join her when she was ready.
The blonde, dressed in the short sleeveless linen garment that had ties on both shoulders and sides for the ease of removal, and a mid calf length loose drawstring pants, walked into the bathroom and approached the healer, who had been waiting for her beside the leather pillows, sitting on a stool with a small washbowl with several different glassware containers beside it. "Come, sit," Gwen directed the Savior to sit in front of her, turned to the side. When Geilgeis settled into the position, the young woman placed her arm on Emma's shoulders, urging her to lean back so the golden locks would flow straight down, and taking a pitcher from the floor, she gently poured warm water over the hair, soaking it, while letting the excess water drain slowly into the pool.
"I can wash my own hair, you know," Emma spoke as she glanced up, her eyes catching Gwen's. Although the girl was skilled and gentle, being tended to was still very uncomfortable for the Savior, and she didn't even have the excuse of damaged hands as she had had before.
"I promise, you will do it yourself, when I am done with this," Gwen said with a smile, almost rolling her eyes at Geilgeis. She picked a towel and carefully squeezed away the moisture from the locks, before patting Emma's shoulder to sit with her back to the healer. "This is something we, fair haired, do to bring out the color and shine of our hair," she started speaking as she placed a small bowl into her lap, a dollop of honey in it. Having reached for one of the bottles by her feet, she opened it, the sharp scent of apples and vinegar filled the air around them, and poured several splashes of it into the bowl. Then, she quickly repeated the process with another bottle, with yet another scent spreading from it.
"What's that, chamomile?" At the scent of apples, Emma had turned her head to look, noticing the mixture on Gwen's lap, but she spoke out now.
"Yes," the healer replied as she used a small brush with soft looking bristles to mix the ingredients in the bowl. "Very steeped chamomile, apple cider vinegar and wildflower honey, whisked into a consistent mixture before adding the equal amount of steaming, but not boiling, water." Motioning with her brush for Emma to turn her head front, she started tapping the mixture on to Emma's head, making sure to catch every individual strand of hair. "After I am done, it only needs a half an hour more to set in before washing it out. Then, I will put some restorative oils to soak in, and let you do the final washing." When she was done, she wrapped the used towel around the Savior's head, tucking the end of it under to keep it stable.
"You know a lot of these things," Emma commented. "The potions and lotions…"
Gwen smiled at the stated compliment before she shrugged, rising from the stool and taking the bowl and the rest of the things she had used with her, returning them to where they had been before. "We have been here a very long time, Geilgeis," she said quietly as she browsed through the shelf with oils and soaps. "Not a lot to do around here but learn," she added, looking at the Savior, a trace of melancholy briefly appearing on her face, before it quickly disappeared "And, with you, I finally get to use some of my knowledge," she said, a teasing edge appearing in her voice as she picked the vial she had been looking for.
"Happy to provide salvation from your boredom," Emma quipped, rolling her eyes at the comment, but pleased to see that the sudden bout of pensive sadness was gone.
"Well, you are the Savior, after all," the healer retorted back, taking her seat beside the woman on the leather pillow.
Some time later, while the Savior was waiting for the oil to do its job, the two women were sitting on the furs and pillows on the floor, the healer leaning against the stone of the hearth, while Emma was holding onto her bent at the knee leg, while the other one was stretched out. They had fallen silent, their previous conversation about Gwen's usual duties exhausted rather quickly.
"May I ask something very personal?" the young woman broke the peaceful quiet between them.
Emma didn't speak, she just turned her head toward the girl and lowered it slightly, her keen eyes noticing the darting look that skirted over her uncovered shoulder blade, having a feeling what the question would be about. Even though she could guess Gwen's interest, she did not deny the girl her curiosity, and feeling an odd protective kinship with the girl, she definitely considered delving into her past, explaining it to the young healer, despite her usual reticence to do so.
Taking the slight shift in Geilgeis's posture as permission, the healer cleared her throat. "After her Majesty had brought you out of your malaise, I noticed that you had a lot of old scars and injuries. Some much older than the two months you have been in the Enchanted Forest." When the green eyes remained focused on her, glittering with the reflected firelight turning them slightly amber, she hurried on. "Some were decades old."
"What is it that you are really asking, Gwen? Without asking, I might add." Geilgeis spoke calmly, a slight teasing edge in her voice, as she remembered a moment not so long before when the girl had queried her without asking the actual question, not moving from her slightly awkward but still relaxed position.
"Your early life was hard, wasn't it?"
A crooked grin appeared on the fair face of the Savior. When not filled with resentment against her parents, Emma was quite ambivalent about her childhood. Yes, she had suffered, but she had seen others suffer worse, and in the end she had survived, reconnected with the important people and she had gotten a True Love and children out of it. So, it hadn't been all bad. "You know about the Dark Curse?" Emma decided to start from the beginning.
"Not much, just what the wolves have shared about it," Gwen replied, frowning with the odd start. "Her Majesty used the Dark One's Curse to punish Snow White and the rest of the allied Kingdoms by transporting them into the Land without Happy Endings, or so she had said. While the Curse was active, the people trapped under it remained frozen in time, where every day was the same, and unremarkable."
Emma nodded, as the girl had recited the salient points of it. "I was born only minutes before the Curse arrived at the Charming Palace, and thus, I was only minutes old when my father, on the instruction of Reul Ghorm, placed me into a magical wardrobe that would transport me to this Land without Happy Endings. Supposedly, that was done so I would be saved from the Curse." The Savior could feel her face twist in bitterness at the last part, before she forcefully relaxed her muscles, getting rid of the grimace.
"You weren't?" The healer asked, prompted by the quick flash of something dark passing over Geilgeis.
"There are worse things in life than being under the Dark One's Curse," Emma retorted heavily. She had believed that at the breaking of the said curse, and now, her opinion had consolidated even further, having experienced the Curse of Darkness and the Red Mist. "I ended up in a forest, alone, and I would have died that very same day, if there hadn't been another traveler through that wardrobe, unknown to my parents." When the healer's eyes widened, Emma snorted quietly. "They sent me off, thinking that whatever I would find on the other end couldn't be worse than the Curse. That I survived, and came back, somehow gives proof to them that they were right to send me through, even though they had absolutely no idea where they were sending me, and if I would even be safe on the other end."
"That's…" Gwen shook her head, speechless. "How… What…"
Deciding to stop the girl from fumbling further, Emma continued. "A boy, a son from one of my mother's allies, had come through the wardrobe earlier and he had waited for me to arrive, as his father had instructed him to. Then, he took me to the closest inhabited place, which turned out to be a small roadside diner." Seeing the deepening frown, Emma quickly corrected herself. "A tavern for traveling carriages." She sighed. "Quickly after that, both the boy and I ended up in an orphanage, and really quickly after that a family adopted me."
"So, you were…" Gwen leaned in, not knowing how to finish her statement. Emma's voice and face showed no trace of relief at the words, so obviously that wasn't the end of the story.
"After 32 months, they returned me to the orphanage, because they now had a baby of their own." There had been a lot of anger and rage stemming from this action, but now, Emma only pitied both the parents and the child. "However, since all the documents carried my new name, they were left the same, and I was left with their name."
"Swan?"
"Swan," Geilgeis confirmed. Changing her position a bit, she crossed her legs in front of her, placing her forearms on her knees. "There were many, many, homes after that, some okay, some very bad, and some in between, but I was never adopted again. And, before I was considered an adult, I ran away, deciding that being alone on the streets was better than suffering through the constant change of new homes and orphanages. Some of the scars you can see are from 'loving' caretakers I had, and some are from the dangers a runaway faces when trying to survive in the gutters of big cities. And, yet some are from the jobs I have taken to feed myself."
A heavy silence fell between them, Emma not saying a word further, letting the healer absorb what she had already shared. Idly, she used magic to bring herself a cup from the table, loath to get up. Drinking from it, she blinked at the refreshing taste of the curious apple drink Regina was in a tizzy about. But, only a minute after, before Emma could even comment on the drink, Gwen spoke up again. "I can probably mix something to lighten the scars, if you want." The earnest and kind look the girl gave her brought out a small chuckle out of the Savior.
"They are part of me now. Part of my history. I don't want them erased." Taking another sip from the cup, she hummed at the taste. "What is this?" she asked, raising the cup in question.
Looking at the cup, Gwen smirked, before she rose to her feet and stepping to the table, she took a cup for herself and the pitcher filled with this mysterious liquid, before she returned to her previous place. "It's an old family recipe, it's said that Brangwen Prif Fam herself had created it. The members of Tintagel kept it secret for centuries, and only those who would visit Brocéliande would even have a chance to drink it." Pouring the liquid into her own cup and refilling Emma's, she added. "Sudd Egnì is said to bring vigor to the exhausted, peace of mind to the troubled. And, in the heat of summer, it helps with keeping one refreshed."
The Savior nodded as she considered the drink. "It's made from apples?"
"Of course."
A light chuckle escaped the blonde as she smirked at the healer's amused confirmation. And, judging by the attributes, the drink most likely was made by some magical process, or by some mixture like Fìorleigheas, and if it was indeed the Tintagel family secret, then Regina had gotten it for sure, as a part of Gorlois's teachings. The trouble was that the sheer amount of data pushed into her lover's consciousness prevented Regina, and with it Emma, from instantly knowing everything that there was to know about it, needing time and mental exercise to properly sort and settle the memories.
"Her Majesty calls you Sheriff," Gwen spoke up, as she fiddled with the cup in her hands.
Emma's eyes rolled at the sudden reverence for her True Love. "You do know you can call her Regina, right?" Waving away Gwen's barely started protest to the contrary, she smiled. "You are my friend. And, I'd like to think that you are hers as well. So, since you are not curtsying and falling over yourself by addressing me with my various titles, why don't you extend her the same courtesy?"
"She will be my Queen in a few hours, it wouldn't be proper," the healer demurely replied, but when her answer caused Emma's green eyes to focus on her in a very pointed glare, she quailed and nodded sharply. "Fine." When Geilgeis's eyes eased up their gaze, she sighed in surrender, and she repeated her previous statement with a slight correction. "Regina calls you Sheriff sometimes." After a slow nod of confirmation, Gwen asked. "I know that one of your titles is the Sheriff of the Enchanted Forest. Is it because of that?" When Emma quickly shook her head in the negative, the younger woman pressed. "Does that mean that you were part of a Royal court in your world?"
"No," Emma laughed. "No, I was only the Sheriff after meeting her." Then, she realized what was confusing the young woman. How much trouble she would be in if she didn't have Regina's memories and the knowledge of various titles and positions within the kingdoms of the Enchanted Forest. "And, in my world, or actually in the part of the world I grew up in, the Sheriff is an officer of the Law of the land. It is a chief constable in small towns of sorts, who is in charge of protecting the people, making sure to catch the criminals and bring them in front of the magistrate. Something similar to the King's guard in the cities." Gathering her thoughts, trying to remember what she knew from her ill-equipped education on the topic, she shifted, letting her back lean against the wall. "The Curse created a small town in my world, and Regina was its Mayor. Her position was what you would call Sheriff, as she was completely in charge of the town and its surroundings. But, there was no Royalty above her. The Curse kept the town isolated, even though it seemingly complied with the settings of the rest of the land." Following Gwen's comprehending nod, Emma continued, completely skipping over the fact that the US had not been a kingdom with a royal at its head, or that most of the world had done away with the monarchies. "Soon after my son brought me to the town, Storybrooke, the old Sheriff passed away, and I was picked as the new one. And, because I hate being called Savior, or princess, she uses that title, just as I sometimes call her Madam Mayor."
The young healer felt her lips lift into a smile at the other woman's voice dripping with love and affection for the brunette, enjoying the way the woman's whole face glowed with happiness. "But, here it is our meaning of the Sheriff, right? You are the highest governing entity of the Forest?"
A heavy sigh was followed by a reluctant nod. "Being both Blessed by the Kinds and the Savior has some perks." Then, Geilgeis took a sip of her drink. "And, if you consider who my parents and my future wife are, I am just teeming with titles…" Emma glanced toward Gwen. "That is the main reason she calls me that. Because I liked being the Sheriff of Storybrooke, and people had elected me for the job. It wasn't something that was given to me because of my bloodline or because they expected me to save the world. Times and expectations were much simpler then. I kept the peace and caught the lawbreakers. That was it."
"And, before that? Before you came to Storybrooke?" Gwen asked. "You mentioned prison," she added quietly, looking away from the blonde as she fiddled with the cup in her hand.
Emma sat in silence, with her back to the stone wall right beside the fireplace, but instead of sitting cross legged, she straightened her legs in front of her, keeping them slightly bent at the knees. The half empty cup of Sudd Egnì was in her hand, resting on her thigh as she thought about what she was going to tell to the girl beside her. Only Regina knew all about her past, and that was due to their connection. Her parents, Henry, Ruby - they only knew the basics because she had been so reticent with the details about it. Neal also knew only the highlight of her childhood, as she hadn't shared anything about her adult life with him.
The few conversation she had had with Archie that hadn't been related to the concurrent crisis had always ended with the kind doctor's admonishment that she should share some of her past with the people she trusted, that she should unburden herself and allow herself the intimacy of that kind of close relationship for her own benefit. And, here she was, considering some darker parts of her past to this young woman, the girl she had known only for a month, if that. But… Gwen didn't have many preconceived notions about the Savior, and didn't have a shared past with her parents - like almost all Storybrooke members did. So far, the girl had always approached her with curiosity and friendliness she sometimes envied, even though the young healer was well versed in abandonment. In rare moments, it reminded her of Mulan, yet another woman she had an easy and genuine camaraderie with.
With her choice made, Emma quietly hummed before she drank the rest of her apple drink. "When I was young enough to still be considered a child but old enough to know how to survive on my own, I was surviving by stealing food, sleeping in empty or abandoned houses or carriages. Oftentimes, I would pick pockets and steal valuables and sell them, buying a room for the night in an inn for access to warm beds or baths. But, I learned quite early not to be greedy and to be careful about who and what I would steal from, because you can always get caught, and it's better for you if it was just a bit of food, rather than very expensive stuff." She looked down at her left hand, her thumb playing with the new band around her ring finger. She had purposefully stayed away from jewelry because of the felony theft thresholds, and such flashy stuff had often been too hot to move, drawing too much attention. "It was right after my seventeenth birthday that I met my son's father, Neal. I learned much, much later, his real name and who he actually was. Baelfire, son of the Dark One." To her side, she heard a sharp inhale at the mention of the boy, but she didn't look. She couldn't look. If she were to see anything but mild curiosity in the healer's kind eyes, she would lose all her courage regarding this, and the friendship she was hoping to cultivate even further would be stopped in place, leaving the air between them awkward. "He was so charming and handsome. And, being older, he had more tricks in his sleeves than I even knew." And one of those tricks landed her in jail, Emma thought to herself, a barely there trace of ruefulness directed at her own naïveté. "I was in love, and for a while, I imagined the whole world with him - a stable home, a family. He soothed my resentment and fears, and for a moment, everything was perfect. It didn't matter that no one wanted me previously, because he did." And, he had taught her a lot. He had taught her how to find weaknesses in her marks, how to find the proper moment for the scam, and how to choose a perfect persona for the grift… Everything he had taught her, she had used to hunt guys like him. And other bond breakers. "After seven weeks of happiness, it ended badly. The boy that had come over with me found him and told him who I was. For some reason, Neal decided that I needed to be safe and I needed to learn to hate him. For that to happen I needed to be caught with some very valuable bracelets, so I would serve a certain amount of time in prison, and, thus, he set me up and disappeared, getting what he wanted."
"If he disappeared… Then, that means you were pregnant before you were caught?" Gwen inferred quickly.
"Yes. I found out after my meeting with the magistrate and after I was sentenced for fourteen months." And, she had been lucky that she hadn't been caught before and still had been under the age of 18, so her public defender had managed to plead her down to possession of stolen property, serving a vastly reduced sentence from the one of three years that the prosecution had in mind to demand. So, due to her age and gender she had been transferred out to the nearest suitable prison and she had ended up in Phoenix, Arizona, in Estrella Jail. "And, being alone, in prison and without the ability to take care of him, it meant that I had to give up my son. To let him be adopted." During the years after serving her sentence, she had thought a lot about the child and her decisions. All those lonely and long hours of research and stake-outs had been passed in ruminations and considering her own motives. There had been brief periods where she had deluded herself that if she hadn't been in jail, that she and Henry would have been together, becoming an awesome mother-son duo, but those moments had been quickly and quite thoroughly stamped out by her hard-earned cynicism. Being a young girl, on the streets and on the grift, presented the high likelihood that she would have chosen an abortion rather than giving birth to the kid - especially since she had been so commitment-phobic in those days, with one single exception to the rule, which actually reinforced the rule - Neal. And, without a doubt, a baby was a commitment - a huge one. On the other hand, being pregnant in jail afforded her some benefits, like less crowded rooms, more recreation time, better meals… With that kind of allowance, she benefited from her time inside - getting a GED, learning about computers and information search.
Only Regina knew about that, though. Nature of their relationship guaranteed it, but they both knew that they would never speak of it, not aloud at least. However, the former Evil Queen had offered her understanding and acceptance, respecting her choices in ways she couldn't even describe - making her love her brunette True Love even more. She didn't think anyone out of her family or friends would even begin to understand the ruthlessness and calculation needed for surviving in the world she had grown up in, and telling them that she had used Henry's conception as a way to barter into a way to get education would only cause strife in her relationships. And, it would hurt Henry. That she hadn't wanted a baby, and that he was lucky to even be born. So, she would never voice those thoughts. Beyond the fact that they were absolutely not true anymore, they would only cause hurt to her boy, and that she would never allow.
"When I was inside, I used the opportunity to learn a trade as a way of providing for myself after I was released," Emma continued, her words carefully measured and tone emotionless. "And, when I was free I became a bounty hunter for the magistrates and constables, using everything I have learned as a child and a criminal to now hunt criminals." She had moved around a lot, but even with her traveling, she had been getting a reputation in her circles. She had been very proud of the fact that her success rate had been one of the highest in many states, and that she had been the youngest one for a long while. After all, she had been 18 years and 5 months old when she had gotten a steady job with an older bail bondsman who had shown her the ropes and sponsored her for the license. During that time, he had demanded her to get at least somewhat proficient in martial arts and knowledge in handling firearms, and the guys he had found to be her 'teachers' had been brutal, but effective. "Some of my 'prey' put up a fight, earning me several scars across the years." Emma fell silent and fiddling with her empty cup, she reached for the pitcher of Sudd Egnì and poured the drink.
Gwen watched the blonde, her eyes taking in the emotionless face, the distant look in the green eyes, the fidgety thumb that played with the engagement ring, and she felt her heart tear at the heavy understanding that filled her. This woman in front of her, the Savior and the Sheriff, had been in constant struggle to survive her entire life. The healer might be young and sheltered by the grace of her Mistress but she had known that orphanages did not breed happiness, and when young Emma Swan had preferred the uncertainty and hardship of living on the streets over the 'parents' she had been provided with - it told a vivid and horrifying story. And, she was so young, despite being thirty years of age, but her eyes spoke of weariness and grind of a hard life, aging her spirit too much, and that was even before one considered all the burdens Geilgeis had on her now. It also explained Emma's restlessness and moodiness when forced to wait.
However, she didn't know what to say. How did one approach such a thing without spouting meaningless platitudes? Judging by Geilgeis's closed expression, the blonde would not accept them, anyway. And, if she did not speak, the silence between them would build, becoming more and more uncomfortable with every passing minute. So, she compromised. She would speak, but not about Emma's past.
"In Camelot, we did not have magistrates or constables," Gwen said quietly, after a moment spent gathering her thoughts. "His Majesty decreed that every Knight of the Round Table would serve as justice for the people of Camelot, even him. Each would spend a day at the Court, representing the King's Justice and hearing people's disputes and executing King's law. And, they would rotate, so in fortnight they all would have served. After a while, people figured out the schedule and who was the best to preside over certain matters, so the Knights seemed to specialize in specific subjects. Sirs Gawain and Kay were experts in common law, Sir Bedivere was merciful on the criminal acts by the poor, and so on…" Gwen glanced up, noticing Emma's interest, so she just went on. "And, the garrison at the city consisted of two different branches, the Castle guard and King's Guard." The girl hummed as she tried to remember the proper difference. "The Castle guards were ordinary people who had been tasked to serve for a year or more in their obligation to the King. They were mainly for the defense of the castle and its surrounding fields, and after their time was up, they were released from service, with the understanding that in times of strife, they could be called up again. But, the King's Guard were lifelong soldiers who were trained to keep the peace, to catch thieves and murderers. They were the ones protecting the Queen and the rest of the court."
Just as she was about to go deeper into the court politics, she was interrupted by a hard knock on the door, followed by it opening, and a head peeked in. "Up for company?" the shifter murmured as she saw them by the hearth.
It was hot in the quarters. The blast of heat hitting her in the face the moment she opened the door startled Aileen for a brief second, before she shrugged it off and looked in, finding the two people she wanted sitting on the floor by the fireplace, angled toward each other, with Geilgeis silent and serious, almost broody, the keen and sharp eyes shadowed when the woman turned to look at her. Gwen, on the other hand, seemed happy for the interruption, quickly clambering up to her feet and motioning quickly in invitation to get inside. With a frown, the shifter motioned the soldier to enter before her and to leave his haul on the bed before leaving, dismissed for the afternoon, her eyes pinning the healer in question as they quickly darted toward the still silent Savior by the fire, dressed only in the House of Healing linen and a thin towel wrapped around head. When the girl almost unnoticeably shook her head, she decided not to ask.
Nodding in gratitude to the departing soldier, Aileen closed the door behind her and walked further into the room, placing the clothes in her arms on one of the chairs farther from the center of the room, having awkwardly stepped by the Savior on her way to the table and chairs. "Regina sent you those," she said to the blonde. "She and Selwyn worked hard on them for this evening."
Geilgeis blinked in surprise before she gracefully rose to her feet in one fluid move. "I thought Selwyn already had the clothes done? The ones we saw together?" Emma asked, motioning between the two of them, before she approached the covered heap of garments.
"Even though it was a gift from my people, Geilgeis, and a superb gift at that," Aileen smirked, her droll delivery making the blonde roll her eyes. "Being covered in deerskin as a simple forester is hardly appropriate for a wedding of two Royals," the shifter added and, before Emma could pick some of it up, the Wolf stopped her with a gentle hand wrapping around her outreached wrist. "But, you will see them tonight, as you get dressed, not before. Try not to worry, her Majesty took your preference into account when she and the tailor made these for you."
Emma's head snapped to the newcomer. "She did?"
The obvious sound of relief coming from the blonde surprised the shifter, and it looked like a small worry dropped off those strong shoulders, now the Savior seemed a bit lighter, with her eyes glittering in excitement. The blonde nodded with a smile on her face, stepping away from the chair with the clothes, and gently folded herself into one beside Gwen.
"Just like that?" Aileen asked with a frown, watching the woman who so far had been pretty hesitant to let others decide something for her.
"You said she made it for me, right?" Emma replied, taking a small morsel from the plate in front of her. "She knows me and if she is sure I would wear this tonight, then that is that."
Aileen shook her head in light amazement of the trust the hero had in her True Love, her reaction prompting a soft giggle out of the healer beside them. "You're lucky it's not a full Royal Banquet," the shifter muttered as she, as well, sat down. "If the circumstances were different, there would be no escape for you, especially considering who is getting married and who is ministering the rites. The three extremely valuable royals, with distinguished lines behind them, in one place…"
Emma smiled as the shifter grumbled beside her, before she tilted her head in interest. "What is that actually like?" she asked, glancing between the two women who had unconsciously boxed her in at the table. "I mean, all I have are Regina's memories of this stuff, and she hasn't been overly fond of weddings, for obvious reasons." In fact, there were only two in Regina's mind, and both held the presence of Snow White.
"Oh, they lasted for days," Aileen said, remembering some she had attended.
"When King Arthur and Guinevere were married, the celebrations around the wedding lasted for two weeks," Gwen spoke softly, her hand lightly touching Emma's as the excitement of the memory came over her. "It was not yet summer, but the weather was warm and beautiful, with flowers in full bloom. The King had sent a proclamation that a festival would be held to celebrate his new wife, inviting everyone to come to the fields beside Camelot's walls. There were so many people there, from all over. Jousting tournaments, sword tournaments, any kind of competition for the knights and soldiers… Merchants plying their wares, musicians playing without stopping… Even the women participated, holding competitions in sowing, weaving, and many other things." The young healer looked at Emma, a soft smile lighting her face. "So many different foods, so many different cloths, and it all created this colorful and life-packed mess. For the honored, there was a banquet every night, with the winners of various competitions invited to dine with the King and his knights. Then at the end of the first week, the King and his Lady got married in the castle before disappearing, while the rest of the highborn were left to hold vigil for the blood, as it was custom."
At the mention of the custom, Emma felt her face pinch, her lips pursing with disgust and muted outrage, quickly grasping a fresh cup in front of herself and filling it with water before she took a long swallow of it. "That," she said pointedly. "Shan't be happening." Her disgusted proclamation was met by Aileen's loud chuckle as the woman nudged her shoulder.
"Well, it is well obvious that neither one of you is a virgin, Geilgeis," the Wolf commented, drawing an irritating scowl from the blonde. "Besides, I don't think there will be enough time for you to disappear anywhere before the Inheritance thing, so…"
Emma raised her eyebrow at the thinly-veiled dare, before she shrugged it off, turning back to Gwen. "So, party all around, right?" she asked the girl.
Gwen hummed before she thought of something. "The nobles of Camelot, spurred on by Merlin's insidious work, hated that Morgan had such influence over Arthur," she spoke quietly, her eyes turning sad. "And, when Mordred had shown himself too different from what had been expected of the son of the Great King Arthur, they used it to further poison his mind against her, saying that she had enchanted him with her unnaturalness and magic, and that such weak offspring had been the punishment for her wicked ways." The hurt in the girl's voice was clear to the other two women, and Emma simply returned the handhold the healer had initiated minutes before. "So, the wedding to Guinevere was used to show that he now had the proper queen, the one the king like him deserved."
"You knew him," Emma concluded softly. "The boy?"
The sad eyes turned glossy with the sheen of tears, a few of them slipping out. "Almost everyone here did," she said quietly, before she wiped her eyes. "He was my best friend. Almost like a brother."
Giving Gwen a moment, Emma turned to Aileen. "So, why the hate for Morgan? Do you know?"
The shifter's disbelieving snort turned into an angry scoff when she realized Emma was serious with the question. "A woman in power? Not afraid of the whispers of the court and not willing to bow to the pressure of the nobles?" Aileen said pointedly. "And, Merlin didn't help things, as he needed Morgan pushed out." Shaking her head at the thought about the deceitful wizard, the shifter sighed. "Have you not wondered why did your beloved face such a backlash for the death of King Leopold? I mean, murder of a spouse is an ordinary part of the court's intrigue, so why did people react so outraged with her?" Before Emma could even consider an answer, the shifter continued. "Even your mother. She was never crowned Queen, even after banishing Regina from her kingdom. She had to get married first before there was even a mention of the coronation, and your father would not be just a consort."
"So, it's not just the magic?"
"Of course, it's the magic! Otherwise, she would be dead many times over. Do you know how many assassins have been hired to take her out? Even the Wolves were approached at one point."
Of course. Emma could have slapped herself silly. She had forgotten why there had been so many Heartless around the Queen. And, that also explained the disdain Midas and Albert Spencer held for both Regina and Snow. And, her, but she had just dismissed it as snobbishness at the time, guided by Regina's sneers about her vagrant ways. "Well, they would be shitting themselves now, wouldn't they?" she replied, chuckling when a soft palm hit her shoulder in light rebuke for the language.
"Oh, they would be filling their breeches," Aileen retorted, ignoring Gwen's hiss. "With you being the Sheriff of the entire Forest, and thus having power over them and their kingdoms…" The shifter clucked her tongue several times in quick succession. "And, being the most powerful regarding magic. Well, there is just no way to guess the levels of panic they would sink to." Then, she shrugged. "The way you inspire loyalty left and right would prevent the nobles from using the rumors, intrigue and machinations to turn the public against you as they did with Morgan and Regina. And luckily, the curse and Midas have neutralized most of the low level royals and nobles, so you don't have to worry about that anyway."
"Huh, lucky," Emma said quietly, her eyes looking down in front of her as the fingers of her right hand traced an imaginary circle on the surface of the table they were sitting at. "All I have to worry about is the sanctimonious disappointment of my mother that I didn't wait for her to do a whole Royal wedding thing, a sad eyes filled with betrayal from my hypocritical father for doing something without letting him be 'the father'." Her words were softly spoken but hard in their bitterness, before Emma shook herself out of it. "No big deal," she added, with a forced lightness, noticing the worried looks shared between the two women beside her.
"Geilgeis, if your parents," Gwen started with a hesitation in her words, before Emma cut her off.
"My parents have no say in when or where I get married," the blonde spoke through her teeth, careful not to snap at the kind healer beside her. "They have not been part of my life when I needed them. Every milestone I have accomplished I have done without them or their input. Considering who my True Love is, it is good that I do not need their approval for anything."
After the Savior's words there was a moment of awkward silence before the shifter cleared her throat. "Oh, before I completely forget," she started, drawing the blonde's attention. "Regina mentioned that you need a sash for the binding?"
Emma blinked in confusion before her mind cleared up. "Oh, right." She got up to her feet and patted Aileen's shoulder in thanks as she passed her and walked to the wardrobe, and took out a long strip of unbleached cotton, about three inches wide and a bit more than a yard long.
Looking at the unremarkable piece of fabric in Emma's hands, Aileen turned to Gwen in question. "Usually, the sash is made in the days before the wedding, the women of the families coming together to create a bonding tie that would symbolize the families uniting." The healer rose up as well and took a seat on the bed, watching the blonde carefully spread the strip in the air in front of her face, holding both ends in her hands. "You'll need to make it in such a way that it can represent both of you, apart and together," she offered to the Savior, quietly enough not to break the woman's concentration but to be heard.
"I have an idea just for that," the blonde replied as she glanced at the healer with a pleased smile. And, after a deep inhale, she released the hold on her magic, directing it to slowly transform the fabric in her hands into what she kept picturing in her mind, all the while she kept muttering a simple but energy-wise costly spell for transmuting the cotton into a weave of extraordinary silk. Keeping the strip stretched in the air, Emma allowed her magic to seep slowly into it.
From her left hand, an inch-and-a-half-wide stripe of heaven blue color, interrupted with thin, interweaving lines of silver and gold, along with a shimmering whites, started flowing along the upper side of the fabric. Immediately after, below it, the same width size stripe of royal purple, interrupted with a bit thicker lines of deep red and black, flowed along, separated from the other stripe with a finger thick stripe of pure white, that simply gleamed in the light of the room. The colors seeped into the fabric, traveling along it slowly, and when a bit more than a foot of it was colored, the colors suddenly spilled over, mixing together, but still not losing their individual shades, only swirling in beautiful patterns.
Gwen watched in awe as the bland and mundane scrap of textile became a work of art right in front of her eyes. She gasped when the colors spilled out of their clearly demarcated lines, filling the next foot of the fabric in a haphazard way, but not blending together, and the pristine white line traveled through it, uninterrupted and making a horizontal figure eight at the very center of the strip, before continuing on to the other end of the fabric, with the stripes of colors following, only now the purple stripe was at the top, with the blue at the bottom of the sash.
Aileen quietly took a seat beside the stunned healer, looking at the beautiful textile, amazed by the clear and deep colors, further aided by the silky sheen of the fabric, telling her that Emma had transformed the ordinary cotton into something more. "It's breathtaking," she murmured slowly.
"It's not done, yet," Emma replied, just as quietly. With another deep breath in and out, she gathered her focus and used gold thread to border the sash, offhandedly noting inside her own mind that the amount of luxurious fabrics and precious metals she had summoned and manipulated during her stay in Brocéliande, would have made her life more than comfortable in Boston or anywhere else. When the borders were done, she needed one more thing on the sash to finish it, and internally chuckling, she summoned a lump of purified silver, letting it hover in the air not far away from her head, startling the two women who were watching her. Turning her palms so that the fabric is stretched horizontally, the Sheriff started speaking a long string of structured magic, transforming the silver from a lump into liquid, before using drops of it to create three different crests on the fabric - her own Swan with a crown on the left end of it, two inches away from the edge, Regina's squares with the apple tree inside on the right, and the crest that had been carefully inlaid at the ricasso of her new sword placed at the middle, meticulously centered inside the infinity symbol. Then, with magic she fixed the silver so it wouldn't flake away or be damaged by the folding of the fabric, and with another additional spell placed on the sash, she was done. "Now, it is finished."
Carefully examining the sash, the shifter smirked at the sight of Emma's sigil. "You placed your mark on the left," she said as she looked at the Savior.
"There is nothing sinister about it," Emma cracked a joke, aware that it was a bit flat. "No need to invite wagging tongues," she added, explaining it a bit further.
"No one would dare, Geilgeis," Gwen joined in, finally understanding what the two were talking about. The left side was often considered the bad one, while the right one was the good. "Not only is Her Majesty the Heir to the Mistress, and you are the highest authority around, not powerful just in magic but in sheer ability." The healer reached for the Savior, clasping her hand in comfort. "Your Love has gained the respect and loyalty of the people here all on her own, and no one here is willing to insult her, you or Morgan in such a way."
"Why would you even care?" Aileen asked, placing her own palm on Emma's shoulder, putting the blonde between her and the healer. "The sash would remain private after the rites, where only the family would have access to it, and they already know everything about you two, anyways. Right?"
"Yes," Emma sighed, before she nodded to the two women. "Now that this is done, what's next?"
After Aileen had gone to bring some more food, Gwen went to the Savior, and removed the wrap from her head, checking the progress on the oil. "It's almost ready," she murmured as she used a comb she had set aside to separate the locks, untangling them. "Needs a bit more." She carefully rewrapped the towel and sat beside the blonde.
"It's still afternoon," Emma said quietly, glancing at the healer. "No matter how long the bath I take, there still will be a lot of time to waste." The restless flex of the Sheriff's shoulders portrayed enough of the dissatisfaction with the idea.
The younger woman placed her arms behind her and leaned against them. "Well, the plan was to leave you enough time to take a three hour nap between the late lunch and the rest of the preparations for the rites, as they are late at night." However, Gwen knew of Emma's insomnia and that the likelihood of that actually happening was low. "I can mix something to help?" she offered.
Emma just shook her head, her eyes taking in the made bed. "No," she mumbled slowly, before she bit the inside of her lip in consideration. "I think I will meditate for a while, and I will do so in the bathroom." She looked toward the door, when Aileen came back through them, carrying their lunch, rising from her seat to help the older woman set it all down on the table.
"Meditate?" Gwen questioned, also helping with the food.
"Ponder on my life, connect with my magic, sort through my memories…" Emma shrugged, before she took her seat at the table. "There is quite a bit one can do with several hours spent in quiet reflection." And, given that she hadn't sorted properly through what Regina had given her days before, she really did need to focus on the newly received memories. Also, she had an idea she wanted to test, and she would need a bit of time, isolated and safe from interruptions to try it.
"You already brood too much," the shifter interjected gently. "Is it wise to sink into your thoughts on the eve of your wedding?" Offering the blonde a cup of melomel Emma had favored in the early days of her presence in Brocéliande, the Wolf gestured toward the bed. "Wouldn't a bit of kip be more advisable?"
Emma chuckled in response to Aileen's less than subtle fussing, and accepting the bowl of the stew from the healer, she crumbled several bits of bread into it and letting them soak, she leaned back in her chair and took a long look at the worried shifter, before glancing back at the healer. "Do you know why the rites Regina and I have chosen demand the period of separation for the wedded couple-to-be before them?" At their head shakes to the negative, she explained. "The ritual we are using tonight is magical in nature and it is binding, for life." Giving them a moment to absorb that, she dropped the wooden spoon she had been given along with the bowl and stirred through the stew, cooling it a bit down. "The people participating must do so of their own free will, or the ritual would not take, and so every doubt, every hesitation, must be cast aside. So, it is the requirement of the future bonded pair to take a certain amount of time and spend it away from their partner, looking deeply within themselves and consider their choices." Seeing the understanding expressions on the two women's faces, Emma took a spoonful of her lunch and hummed at the warm and tasty meal. After swallowing, she took a sip of her drink and felt her lips stretch into a crooked smile. "The original time of the separation for the rites was to be a week, and even more. But, due to the time constraint, and the fact that we are True Loves, thus already bonded for life, it was deemed that the symbolic distance lasting several hours is enough for the purposes of the rites."
"But, you are True Loves," Aileen insisted. "There is no longer need for that, is there?"
Emma sighed with slight exasperation. "I can't sleep. The magic…" She waved her hand in front of her face before she looked at the shifter, reaching out to the particular brand of power the Wolf contained, lightly strumming it, taking Aileen's breath away as the shifter's magic rose closer to the surface just enough to be visible in the yellowing of the woman's eyes, before she withdrew, offering a small frown of apology. "It's everywhere."
"Like you are constantly under the full moon?" The shifter returned in understanding. When Emma reluctantly nodded, Aileen grimaced and nodded back, before she returned to her lunch.
"Then, as soon as we finish," Gwen spoke up, her eyes darting between the two women in front of her. "We'll leave you to it." She then poured more of the stew into Emma's bowl, despite the blonde's refusal, making the Savior chuckle in resignation before again tearing bits and pieces of bread and dropping them into the stew. "You don't have to sleep," the healer remarked, before adding sternly, "But, you will eat."
The next half hour the three women engaged in small talk as they went through all the food the oldest woman had brought. The healers shared some of the tidbits of their daily lives, with Aileen adding some anecdotes from her past, telling about her experiences in the shifter's village and the Enchanted Forest. When they finished with the food, Aileen stood up and started gathering things from the table to bring with her, while the younger healer excused herself and disappeared into the washroom.
"Okay, then, we will come back tonight, and I'll bring a light meal to tide you over before the rites," the shifter spoke as she stacked the used dishes into one heap for ease of carrying. At that moment, the healer came out of the wash room, and noticing the dark haired Wolf's full arms, she relieved the woman of some of her burden.
"I set out the shampoo and soap for you, Geilgeis," the young woman said as she followed the two women to the door. "Don't fall asleep in the water," she cautioned before rolling her eyes at Emma's lighthearted 'Yes, Mistress'. "Don't touch the clothes until we return."
"See you later," Emma just replied as she opened the door for them and quickly sent them out, shutting the door behind them, latching it locked.
The two women walked up the stairs in silence, reaching the main floor of the House of Healing without speaking. As soon as they came to the main corridor , several of the still roaming attendants picked up the dishes from their arms, and now with their hands free, the two of them, after a moment of silent conversation, decided to go to Gwen's work room for a bit, before parting ways.
Aileen took a seat at the large table and took a cup of water the younger woman placed in front of her. "Do you believe her?" she asked quietly, watching the other healer sit down, across from her. When Gwen hummed in query, the Wolf sighed. "Do you believe Geilgeis about magic keeping her awake?" she elaborated in a low voice.
Gwen placed her elbows on the table and tapped her fingers against the rough surface. "No," she sighed, before she reconsidered. "Well, I am sure the magic was part of it," she conceded, before she added, "But, no."
With her suspicion confirmed, Aileen nodded, frowning in concern. "She is not well, is she?"
The young healer shook her head. "Her body is healed, and with the unicorn blood, I think it is in a better shape than it has ever been. But…" She closed her eyes as she remembered how the Savior had looked when she had arrived at the House of Healing, the wounds from magic oozing blood, the damage from various magical influences radiating from the unconscious woman. "She died, Aileen." Not letting the Wolf comment on it, she continued on. "The way you and my mistress tell it, it was a miracle she came back. But, she died. And, before that, she spent weeks under the effects of that red poison, in unbearable pain, locked inside her own mind, with no one able to help her." She swallowed hard, not able to stop herself from flinching when Aileen gently took her hand in comfort.
"You saw it, didn't you?" Aileen quietly asked. "You saw the damage with that special thing of yours," she simply stated, offering sympathy to the healer with touch and a kind expression on her face. The girl never, even obliquely, referred to her gift, but Aileen had known about it for years. Morgan had informed her after she had sworn her to secrecy and to let Gwen broach the topic of it, if she ever did. It had been necessary when the Wolf had agreed to become one of the girl's teachers in the arts, educating the young woman in the tribal remedies and medicines used on the shifters.
"With the life she's led," the young healer continued, not giving a response to Aileen's words. "The ways she has had to survive and adapt…" Learning a bit more of the Savior's history and how the young girl had suffered in life long before she had become the Savior had broken Gwen's heart, but she'd used all her skill to hide her reaction from the blonde, knowing that Geilgeis would end the conversation on the spot were she to become too emotional. "I don't think she has ever been well. Not with everything she has gone through. And, I have a feeling that the worst of it is yet to come."
"But, the time here helped," Aileen offered hopefully.
"Yes," Gwen agreed. "And, being with her True Love did wonders for her."
"However, as long as the Savior is needed," the Wolf concluded heavily, "she would always choose her duty first."
After that comment, the two women fell into silence, thinking about the heavy burdens placed on their new, but very appreciated and beloved, friend. With a long sigh, the Wolf leaned back and took in the half packed herbs and supplies, noting that only a small wooden chest was filled with jars and vials. No doubt the young healer was only bringing the necessities with her, leaving the work room more or less equipped for the one who would take it over as the main herbalist.
"Will you miss this place?" the older woman asked, gently breaking the silence between them.
The healer scoffed and shook her head. "This place, though I have learned a lot here and enjoyed some of the time here, is a prison. I can barely wait to leave with Geilgeis and her True Love." She then smiled softly as she glanced to the shelved walls, her mind's eye seeing the rooms of the Marble Palace, and farther, the Communal Hall and the hamlet. "I will miss the people. The friends I have here, family…" Her eyes focused on the shifter in front of her and her smile turned sad, and she sighed. "Mistress has been my mentor, my teacher, my family for so long, and now, our ways are parting, and after she goes to her sisters and husband to Avalon, I will never see her again." The night before she had spent time with the woman, talking and reminiscing, and when the sorceress had sent her off to grab a few hours of sleep, she had started crying in earnest, facing the separation from the only parent she would acknowledge. But, then, Queen Morgan had gathered her in her arms and held her, whispering her blessings into her hair and kissing her forehead in benediction. The reason she was helping Emma with the preparations rather than Regina and Morgan, besides the fact that she was closest to the young Hero out of all the people of Brocéliande, was to give her respite from the impending leavetaking and its emotional consequences.
"Emma mentioned that she and Regina would travel to escort Morgan on the last part of her journey, and say their goodbyes there," Aileen murmured softly. "I am sure they will take you along should you ask."
Gwen hummed noncommittally. "Will you leave with us? See your son?"
The Wolf smiled at the mention of her boy but then she shook her head. "No. With both you and Percy leaving, Morgan will need someone to stay and help her." Her voice was gentle and without reproach, only stating the fact, watching the young healer with kindness in her eyes. "But, after… Yeah, I'll join Liam." With that she rose and, patting the girl's shoulder on the way to the door, she left the room and went to her quarters to grab a kip.
Having noticed the discerning looks both the shifter and the healer had directed at her when her magic and sleep had been mentioned, and she had gotten the distinct feeling that the other women had not believed her claims. But, she also knew that Gwen would let it be, knowing how Emma hated her vulnerabilities being exposed, and that Aileen would shy away from upsetting her on this day. However, she hadn't lied. Her magic was the reason she could 'see' everything magical existing and moving within the borders of the sanctuary, keeping her aware of general positions of the Kinds and people of the Dragon's Bluff. It also thrummed with the unabating sense of doom that resonated in her very bones, amping her already raised apprehension. That informational noise, added to the energy boosts the magic provided, was indeed helping to keep her awake at odd hours. However, the real reason she refused to even try was because of nightmares that were sure to follow, especially now when the calming influence of Regina's presence was denied her. She didn't want her hours before the bonding with the love of her life to be spent in fear and sorrow, her mind engulfed in darkness and pain.
Emma walked to the washroom and closed the door behind her. Her bare feet led her to the closest of the bowls on the floor, and with a basic gesture she lit the mixture inside it, replicating the effect with all other bowls in the room. Gwen had lit only two previously, closest to where they had been sitting at the time, but now, Emma lit all the rest, providing her both with muted light and warmth. And, she thought with a smirk, they would serve as an alarm clock of sorts, as they lasted about four hours, perhaps a few minutes less.
Dropping down into the empty pool, she quickly washed off the oil from her hair, but instead of continuing with ablutions, she dried off her locks and left the sunken portion of the room, settling on the pillowed part of the floor, crossing her legs at the ankles and resting her forearms against her knees. With Mulan's instructions fresh in her mind, Emma regulated her breath and allowed herself to sink within herself, immersing into the memories and magic. She spent a while sorting through the knowledge her beloved had imparted on her, examining everything relating to the border stones, when she felt a slight tingle pass through her magic. Bringing herself out of the meditation, Emma opened her eyes and frowned as she tried to find what had disturbed her. She focused on her magic, letting the constraints of it fall away, as she searched for that odd sensation of touch. As her magic was released, and information flooded her senses, she found the source almost immediately, as her eyes flew to the roof of the room she was in. But, she did not see the hewn rocks, the carefully arranged thin slabs of stones, and tightly packed pebbles that made the floors of the Marble Palace. No, her eyes, helped by her magical senses, 'saw' her beloved in a tub, enjoying herself while calling out her name, all the while Regina's magic called insistently to her own, reaching out and converging with it, creating that feeling of pleasant jolt running over her nerves.
As her True Love reached her peak, Emma felt her magic surge and pull her to the room, almost initiating the teleportation spell on its own and she barely managed to stop herself from physically leaving the washroom. But, she didn't withdraw her magical presence, too entranced by her beloved's rapidly heaving chest and the rapturous countenance, not actually seeing them but feeling them through her power's lens. Submerging herself deeper into the well of her magic, Emma directed her ethereal tendrils to go to her lover, serving as her additional limbs, as her hands tightly clenched her knees, the slight discomfort grounding her enough to remain where she was and not go to her beloved.
She was feeling a considerable strain of maintaining her consciousness away from her body and controlling her magic as if it were another body of hers, despite the fact that Regina's magic was inviting her and bolstering her through the connection the True Loves shared. It was through their shared magic that Emma could sense Regina's curiosity and wonder when she made contact with the adored olive skin. Through it, she felt the brunette's assent when she saturated the space around Regina with her own magic, holding the Mayor's body pinned in an easily accessible position, which actually didn't really matter as her magic was intangible, capable of reaching wherever. Then, she consolidated some tendrils of her magic into facsimiles of her hands, going over bits of Regina's body, gently caressing the sensitive skin and scalp underneath.
When Regina spoke in Elvish, Emma had to bite her lip to stop her body from leaving the spot she had grounded herself in, despite the shudder that went through both her body and her magic, heightening her own arousal. She didn't hear the words in the conventional way, but the Elvish traveled through their bond, the meaning of them, with all emotional and practical connotations, slamming into Emma thanks to their current entwined magic, so when the brunette expressed her need in the same way, the Sheriff wasted no time or magic, pouring more and more of her power into the room with her beloved, recreating her own body, but keeping it somewhat intangible and invisible. She directed her mind to fully inhabit her magical replica, grunting slightly under the demands of the power that move required but still persisting. Enveloping the brunette in a hug from behind, she placed a soft kiss on Regina's cheek as she spoke up, quite clearly. "I am here," she said in Elvish, knowing that the woman would feel the similar impact of those words. When she felt Regina tremble harder in her ghostly arms, Emma concentrated on bringing beloved to the heights of pleasures, her control of her magic so complete that even though her physical body shook from the exertion and heated arousal, she maintained her presence and expert touch, guiding the brunette to earth shattering climaxes that reverberated through their connection, taking Emma over the peak as well.
A bit later, after she had retreated from her beloved's presence, Emma used her meditation steps to calm herself down and to slowly wrangle her magic back into the constraints of her body, locking it somewhat in. When she judged herself adequately relaxed, she prepared her bath and sank into the hot water of the pool.
Just as she finished toweling her hair, having wrapped a large one around her middle, the lights from the bowls disappeared, and only seconds later, several quick and sharp knocks were heard from the door to the quarters.
"Oh, good," the young healer spoke the minute Emma opened the door, her eyes going over the blonde's features. When the Savior stepped back and opened the door wider, the girl, dressed in what passed for the old world finery, strolled in, helping the grunting, also dressed up, Wolf pull a large, oval mirror the size of a grown man into the room, placing it in the corner where it would stay out of the way but easily used. Then, the young woman brought one of the chairs from the table and placed it in front of the mirror, before taking off a small satchel that hung from her shoulder and dropping it onto the back of the chair.
Aileen shook her head at Gwen's single mindedness and turned toward the Savior. "Keith will bring something down, with some more of Sudd Egnì," she mentioned as she looked over the Savior, noticing her still dewy skin from the bath and the damp hair, with drops dripping from the ends of her locks. "I told him to bring something that can keep until tomorrow, and to bring a lot of it, as I figured the two of you wouldn't be much for company after the busy night in front of us."
Emma tilted her head, considering the shifter's words before nodding in agreement. "Thanks," she said quietly. Then, she motioned toward the washroom, where she had left the towel she had used on her hair before excusing herself to finish with the drying. From the bathroom, the blonde heard Aileen speak with the healer, remarking on her odd behavior, her teasing quip bringing a smile on the Sheriff's face.
While she picked another set of towels to wrap her body and hair in, the expected boy apprentice arrived, greeting the two women in the quarters and set down a large serving plate onto the table, before quickly disappearing from the room with a soft murmur directed at Gwen. Hearing the door close behind him, Emma left the washroom and before she could even see what the young man had brought, a small plate was thrust to her before Aileen shooed her off to sit in front of the mirror, and surrender to the young healer-turned-stylist's hands.
Gwen was standing behind Emma's chair and when the blonde communicated her readiness, the young woman came and gently unwrapped the towel, setting the still damp locks free and letting them spill down. Reaching for the satchel, she took out a wooden comb, and started going through the beautiful tresses, gently untangling them as she went, while Emma nibbled on the bite-sized morsel Aileen had given her, watching the healer work in the mirror.
The soothing motion of wide toothed comb going through her drying hair brought a sense of calm to Emma, helped along with Gwen's gentle fingers rubbing tenderly along the scalp. That bit of serenity had been very rare in her life, and the woman associated it with safety and languor one was to find around one's chosen and trusted family, and recently she had only felt it in Regina's presence. That she would find it here, with the girl a decade or more her junior, at least biologically, left her contemplating the young healer as she watched her. Despite her young age, the girl was too often quite serious and dedicated to her craft, her pale blue eyes possessing indomitable focus Emma had seen on various occasions. And, her light brown braided up hair added to her wise-beyond-her-years countenance, her true age shining through only in social settings when the girl relaxed among her friends, and by some miracle, Emma seemed to be counted as one of them. The Sheriff, in turn, liked the girl and considered her a friend too, one of very few who hadn't had preconceived notions on who or what Savior was supposed to be.
"Is there something wrong?" Gwen said in a murmur, her question drawing Emma's eyes up to connect with the curious blue.
"No," the blonde murmured back. "I am just…" Hesitating over her words for a second, the Savior saw the girl frown and stop with her actions, concern filling those day sky eyes. Not willing to disquiet the kind healer, Emma hurried to answer. "Glad I've met you." When the girl blinked in surprise, the blonde added. "You are a good friend to have."
Gwen stood motionless for a brief moment, before a palm landed tenderly on Emma's shoulder, squeezing it gently in appreciation, while the girl offered a short nod, keeping her eyes on Emma's. She didn't speak, but the blonde understood, and gave a smile in return. Then, the young woman sighed and went back to the blonde tresses.
When the golden hair was completely dry, the healer took out a different comb out of her satchel, this one with much narrower space between the teeth of it, and with practiced gentleness, she started slowly plaiting Emma's hair, starting from the woman's left side. First, she made a small plait, about a small finger thick, following the hairline of the forehead until she reached the line of the ear before she continued to plait it in a loose braid, adding a narrow silvery ribbon into it. Repeating the process on the other side, Gwen tied them together temporarily, to keep them out of the way. Then, underneath the first braids, in line with the blonde's temples, she gently plaited another two, of the same thickness, adding the ribbons as she passed the ears. Then, at the back of Emma's head, Gwen connected the first two, creating a single braid out of them, before she added the other two, keeping the same distance between them, the final braid more elaborate than the simple four plaits on the side, made more distinctive with the four silverish ribbons woven through it.
Looking at the end result in the mirror, Emma grinned. She liked it very much. The plaits kept the hair away from her face, but the rest of the hair was loose, flowing in gentle waves down her back, reaching the middle of it. "It looks great," she spoke as she turned away from the reflective surface, rising from the chair.
The young healer nodded with a smile before she stepped to a side, letting Emma get to the bed, where while Gwen had been working on the blonde's hair Aileen had carefully spread the clothes Regina had selected for her bride. But, before Emma could inspect them, the Wolf stood in front of her and clicked her tongue in impatience. When the blonde looked at the shifter but not moved in any other way, the brunette just rolled her eyes and tossed a soft cotton garment to her.
"Put that on," the shifter ordered as she turned slightly away, chatting in a low murmur with the healer, giving Emma an illusion of privacy.
Emma spread the cloth that had almost hit her in the face and chuckled when she recognized what it was. A boxer style underpants with a drawstring instead of elastics, made of cotton and obviously created by her beloved as it wasn't the type she had encountered in the Enchanted Forest. Tossing the towel to the foot of the bed, she quickly put them on, smiling as they settled in place perfectly, and as she tied the strings, she looked over to the rest of the things on the bed. However, she was once more prevented from seeing the clothes in greater detail, because just in that moment, Gwen approached her with another of Regina's creations. It was a bralette-like piece of clothing, only instead of an elastic band it had a wide and a bit thicker belt of cotton that hooked at the back, and with delight Emma put it on and with a quick instruction on how to close it, she turned her back to Gwen. So far, in the Enchanted Forest, if she wasn't actively magicking up bras for her to use, which was not worth the effort, in her honest opinion, she was either wrapping up her chest in bandeau-like style or relying on the tightness of her clothes to give her support. During her adventures as the Black Knight, she had used the cleverly placed straps on her chainmail to keep her breasts in place. And, due to her peak physical state, her boobs had unfortunately dropped a size or two. As she situated herself into it, she briefly explained bras and the versatility of them in her 'Normal' world, chuckling at the interested looks the women had shared between them as they examined the curiosity.
Next were knee high wool socks and Emma donned them speedily, silently bemoaning the absence of types and styles of her Storybrooke clothes that she missed - like the colorful cotton socks and sport and fancy bras; but she was used to the 'old world' fashion by now, making do with what was available.
Then, Aileen told her to stand up and lift her arms, expertly pulling the brilliantly white garment over her head, the soft and smooth feel of the silk gliding over her skin making the blonde gasp in surprise. The silk shirt was settling almost perfectly on her body, every stitch in its proper place, that very fact telling of the shirt's origin. While the Sheriff admired the fit of the fabric, Aileen gently tightened the half plackets close with string, tying in a small, almost unnoticeable bow, before fiddling with the edges of the small band collar. "Give me your arm," the Wolf quietly prompted, as she motioned to Gwen to stand by her side and help her out. Then, as soon as the women were done with the cuffs, Emma was given the pants to put on. The same pants the tailor had made from the deerskin Aileen had brought.
It was odd, the Savior considered, as she watched herself in the mirror, dressed in white leather pants and boots. The elegant simplicity of the leatherwork was enhanced by the gleaming white silk, giving her a more high class look. She looked like the royal she indeed was. And, she didn't hate it. Far from it, she felt very comfortable in this style, and she wanted to adopt it as her official courtly attire, rather than the dresses her mother would probably deem proper for a crown princess.
Hearing a sharp gasp of surprise from behind her, she spun around and immediately approached Gwen. "What's wrong?"
Although visibly shaken, the young healer shook her head and lifted the beautiful ivory brocade tunic. "Put this on," she spoke up after she cleared her throat, and the blonde acquiesced, even though her eyes narrowed at the strange mood coming over the young woman. When the Savior was dressed, the healer came in front of her, and with great care, started closing the plackets using the barely visible silver hooks and eye loops. "Before the whole tragedy of Camelot's end," Gwen said in a quiet, but emotional voice. "Mistress ordered a tunic to be made for the King. One that was fit for a man who was celebrated as a just and fair king, and one who was proclaimed far and wide as the paragon of 'Good'." When she finished tying it up, she gently tucked her fingers underneath the high collar, checking if the shirt collar was in place, before she used the hooks and eye loops on it to close it. "However, before the King's birthday, the Mistress was sent away from the castle, their union proclaimed invalid, and the tunic was never gifted." With gentle coaxing, she turned the blonde to look into the mirror, catching the blonde's eyes through the reflection. "You are worthy of this gift, in ways the King never was," she added with pride as she let Emma take in the splendor of the garment.
Even though she had caught details and the beautiful work of the garment, she was still stunned when she saw herself. The ivory white and silver garment almost gleamed under the firelight and the oil lamps in the room, its hem hanging a hand above Emma's knees. The embroidered gold and silver patterns adorned the high collar, the chest following the line of the breast bone and the end of the sleeves that were fitted to her arms. The tunic itself was fitted tightly until it reached Emma's hips, loosening up a bit and there was where the hooks and eye loops stopped, the rest of the length dropping down like a skirt. Combined with her freshly lightened and braided up hair, she looked familiar. Her green eyes flashed in surprised amusement when she realized what her current garments reminded her of. "I look like a fucking Elf," she muttered to herself before she started grinning.
"Elf?" Gwen queried, her brows furrowing into a slight frown, only slightly reassured by the Savior's excited grin and twinkling eyes. "Is that something magical?" The girl quickly glanced toward the shifter, but seeing the confused expression there as well, she looked back at the Savior.
Emma raised her brow at the question. "No," she replied slowly, before she reconsidered. "Well, yes, but… It's too difficult to properly explain."
"Because, the language of magic is Elvish, is it not?" the young woman asked, and Emma understood from where the question had come. "And, you do look breathtakingly marvelous."
"You really do," Aileen joined in.
Emma pursed her lips. "Too bad the black of the scabbard would be too stark against all the white and silver…" she commented, placing her hands at the hips, as her eyes drifted to her sword and bracers placed by the door.
"No sword," Aileen quickly objected. "You are in a warded and protected space. To carry a sword, when you will be surrounded by the best warriors to guard you and your beloved, would be an insult to the Knight and his people." The shifter gave Emma the silver studded deerskin belt, with the dagger Percival had given her hanging of it. "Besides, it is a magical union of magical people, it is accepted that your magic is your weapon," she added in reassurance.
As she put on the belt around her waist, Emma remembered something. "But my father carried a sword to his own wedding."
The Wolf huffed in mild derision. "If it was a period of peace, I would say that your father's common roots and ignorance were showing or that he had no trust or respect for his own people. But, the wedding had come after a war with King George and Regina's banishment, so some wariness could be excused."
"And, the dagger?" the blonde wondered, resting her right hand over the hilt of it, testing its place on her hip.
"It is due to your warrior status among the people of Brocéliande. They would never presume for you to be completely unarmed, and you will need it for the ritual."
Satisfied with the explanation, Emma nodded. "So, this is it," she spoke to the mirror, quite pleased with the look. Her lover had given her a boon she had not expected and she was touched beyond words by the gesture.
"Not quite," the young woman said as she brought over a long and shimmering white, almost diaphanous, piece of fabric, while Aileen came to stand in front of the blonde with something in her hands. When Gwen placed the corners of the white fabric onto Emma's shoulders, the Sheriff realized that it was a cape. A purely decorative cape that one would expect on a representation of a hero, and due to its impracticality it was obviously Regina's tongue-in-cheek add-on commenting on Emma's portrayal as a White Knight. Barely managing to stifle the guffaw the thought prompted, the Savior choked, before she started coughing and laughing at the same time, startling the two women around her. Gwen immediately brought her some of the Sudd Egnì for her to drink which Emma swallowed at once, easing the trouble in her throat.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she quickly reassured the women, a wide smile still on her face. "Go on," she motioned to Aileen, correctly guessing that she held the elements that would affix the cape to her tunic.
After a confirming look, the shifter placed one of the circular gold things, two inches in diameter, right beneath the joint of the shoulder, using two small, almost unnoticeable, needles to fix it to the firm weave of the tunic and then, she took one end of the cape and a three inch long decorative gold needle encrusted in emeralds and clear diamonds, connecting the corner of the cape to the circle, the decorative needle pointing toward Emma's sternum. Having repeated the action on the other side, the Wolf gently pulled Emma's hair to flow over the cape and nodded in satisfaction. "Now, you're done," she said and turned the blonde to the mirror.
Emma noticed that the gold brooches were simple gold wreaths serving as a backdrop to the jewel encrusted pins, but even with splendor of stones on them, the style was understated elegance, blending well with the tunic and Emma's overall appearance. As she turned away from the mirror, the light cape swished around her before settling down, its hem falling to the back of the blonde's knees, but due to its lightness, it billowed with every minute move, adding a bit of whimsy to Emma's serious countenance.
As the two women left to quickly gather their cloaks, Emma used her magic to set the room into order, tidying the bed, placing a stasis spell over the food, cleaning out the fireplace and preparing the wood for later. She even cleaned up the washroom, refreshing the oil bowls. Then, taking a last look over the quarters, she extinguished the lamps and, with a firm focus in her mind, she placed several of magical beacons to the corners of the room, needing a direct guide for the teleportation spell in such magically saturated environment - and she had a feeling that both she and Regina wouldn't be much in the mood to traipse through half of Brocéliande to get back to their quarters. Pleased with her preparations, she checked her belt where she had tucked the binding sash, and seeing it there, she closed the door and set out to the grove.
Following the torch lit path, accompanied by the two healers who had been with her for the better part of the day, Emma walked with a purposeful stride, grimacing at the slushy snow turning into mud under her feet, squelching with every step she made. The lit fire heated the air around them, keeping the biting cold away from the path, but in turn it was melting the cleared banks of snow, and Emma was more than glad that she had placed the beacons in their quarters, not willing to trudge through rivulets of mud on her way back, even though the clothes could be quite easily fixed, which she proved the second she entered the wild orchard.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the grove, and as soon as the path opened up into the cleared space, Emma saw twelve members of the Camelot guard, spread around in the circle, dressed and polished in their court armor, holding their spears and shields at the ready, protecting the immediate area where Morgan, Regina and she would spend their time. Among the men, she recognized Alistair and Finn from her excursion along the border, and Brandon, the Captain of the Guard Regina had encountered on her first day here. When the captain saw her approaching, he saluted, prompting others to follow his example, and Emma nodded in respect as she passed by him, her look encompassing all of them about the grove. Her two companions split away from her, Gwen squeezing her arm as she passed by, going to the other villagers already there, leaving the blonde alone to walk the area, taking in the sight.
When she reached the center of the grove, Emma could finally see the full effect of all the preparations from that morning. The apple trees under the web of spells were resplendent with silvery-green leaves that shone under the lights of the braziers lit under them, thick canopies swaying slowly in the slight breeze. With the trunks spouting branches from seven feet and upwards, there was just enough space for people to pass under them without fearing a twig snapping in their faces. And, magically grown flowers bloomed in the night, the rosy petals scenting the very air around them. However, the highest tree in the grove, at the very center of it, reaching forty feet of height and outgrowing the rest of them by five feet at least, was the only one not adorned in beautiful, newly opened blossoms, still tinged with pink, and the reason for it was the fruit that was hanging off its branches, shining like the red jewels in the night. And, underneath it, but a bit away from the trunk of the tree, was a small but thigh-high table, covered in white cloth. Knowing that the table had been set where she and Regina were to stand during the rites, Emma walked over to it, pleased to note that everything necessary, apart from the sash, was already there.
"Geilgeis," a soft murmur of her name given by the locals drew her attention away from the table and Emma turned, seeing the last of Tintagel bloodline standing behind her, robed in an elegant silk in the color of copper that glimmered in the night under the dancing light of the fires enhancing her black features, her gentle amber eyes going over her clothes before a soft smile lit the dark face of the Queen. "She has an excellent grasp of presentation," Morgan added softly as she came closer to the Savior. "You look…" A quiet sigh escaped her lips as the Mistress of Brocéliande lightly touched the embroidered part of the tunic, her fingers idly tracing the highest part of Emma's breastbone. "You look like everything he was supposed to be, for all of his glory and legend," she continued after a minute. "And, you wear it well."
"Thank you," Emma replied quietly, before she gently removed the hand still on her sternum, gathering it in both of hers. Deciding to let go of the resentment and irritation she had been holding for the woman, the Sheriff brought the woman's hand to her lips and kissed the top of it, bending slightly at the waist. "I hope I prove worthy of the gift, Your Majesty."
"You already have, Your Grace," the Queen replied in turn, skillfully extracting her hand from Emma's grasp. Then, she looked upwards, to the stars. "We will soon begin," Morgan uttered, before she lowered her head to look at Emma and her smile widened. "She'll be here momentarily." As she spoke the words, a small gong-like sound echoed over the ground, and the Queen reached for the blonde.
And, in truth, just as Morgan used her hand to turn the Savior to the entrance in the grove, Emma saw the commotion at the path, before a tall figure of the Last Knight of the Round table escorting a vision in red entered her view.
Even though the blonde was endowed with the memories of most magnificent ensembles and dresses Regina had worn throughout her life and her reign as the Evil Queen, she was not prepared for the impact the woman had on her the very second the green eyes were able to take her in. Emma gasped, needing to make a step back to regain her off kilter balance, not hearing the amused chuckle the Queen beside her made at her expense. "She is…" the Hero breathed out, trailing off as she couldn't put her findings in words.
Her True Love's long black and glossy hair flowing down her shoulders framed her strikingly beautiful face, its natural beauty only slightly artificially enhanced, and the gold of the circlet around Regina's forehead brought out the healthy glow of her skin. Then, Emma's eyes darted lower, taking in the vision in front of her as the brunette approached her, still escorted by Percy. At first, Regina was wrapped in the cloak of Tintagel red with the edges finished in gold, held closed by a large brooch to the left, keeping the woman covered while she kept her left hand on Percy's offered right elbow. However, as soon as they stepped inside the heated circle of the grove, the Knight helped the brunette take off her cloak, folding it and giving it to a villager who approached them, and, thus revealing the dress underneath it. And, there it was, a form-fitting gown with a train that would look at home at the celebrity events in Emma's world, but it still held the elegance and splendor that would not be out of place at the royal gatherings of the Enchanted Forest. In the color of expertly polished rubies, the silk velvet had a bit of a gloss under the light. The hems and edges of the velvet were adorned by an inch wide embroidered strips of golden thread and glittering dots of rubies and obsidian. And, from the top of the shoulders, forming a barely curved line across the collarbone, a diaphanous silk covered what would have been a rather risqué décolleté that dipped to the end of her sternum, the sheer fabric decorated with the swirls of black lace and embroidered with black coruscant drops of obsidian, teasing the eyes while giving only insufficient glimpses of the skin underneath.
But, it wasn't the dress Emma was so focused on, even though her mind avidly cataloged every single detail about it. It was the brilliant smile on the woman's face, exposing her pearly whites, that drew the Savior, along with the sense of overwhelming joy and excitement that was easily conveyed through the glittering glossy eyes that were lighter than Emma had ever seen them, and the blonde felt her own grin spread wide at the sight of the unusual delight. "Transcendentally radiant," Emma finally found the words, uttering them in a stunned whisper, her remark prompting another chuckle from the black woman beside her.
Only moments after, Percival stood in front of Emma, and with a bit of a teasing pomp, he transferred Regina's hand into the blonde's offered one, before he bowed to the both of them and took a step to the side.
"Emma," Regina breathed out, greeting her with a slightly tremulous smile as her eyes twinkled with happiness, her fingers tightening around Emma's.
"Hey, you," the blonde replied in a whisper, before she leaned down and stole a quick kiss. "Missed you, today," she added under her breath, peering into those beautiful caramel eyes, enjoying the flash of hunger that showed in them, rolling her own when the brunette lifted her free hand to wipe the red lipstick from Emma's lips with a gentle rub of a thumb. As if Emma wasn't experiencing renewed arousal from the moment she had seen the woman, the touch, somehow full of teasing innuendo, sparked in the Savior a roll of heat that focused in her lower regions.
A softly cleared throat reminded the blonde that they weren't alone, and that they had dressed up for a reason. Blushing at the interruption, Emma turned her head to the woman who would preside over the rites, smiling sheepishly at Morgan.
"You need to come to the other side of the table," the Mistress of Brocéliande softly reminded them, and quickly, the two of them took their positions for the rites.
The very second she entered the grove, Regina felt the sensation of being watched, and by the way her skin tingled , she could bet the world on who the culprit was. Stopping for a brief moment, using a small flick of her finger to get rid of the mud and sludge her dress and boots had soaked up, she demurely waited for her escort to remove the cloak. Faced with Percival's wide grin when he noticed a barely there colored vapor escape from under the carefully dismantled covering, the brunette closed her eyes and took a deep breath, making every effort to push down her exuberant power that kept bubbling up due to her heightened emotional state. When she was ready to go on, she opened her eyes and looked up at Percival's jovial face.
"She is staring," he muttered as he took her hand once more and placed it on his elbow. "One would think we have been starving her by the way she looks at you," he added and set out to lead the woman on his arm to his waiting Mistress and Geilgeis.
Still not looking at the Savior, but enjoying the way her body reacted to almost physical sensation of the blonde's gaze, Regina chuckled at Percy's teasing tone, feeling her lips pull into a wide, heartfelt smile, and only then she turned her head to look at the place she was going to be married in, making sure not to look in Emma's direction too soon. As her eyes flew over the blossom-decorated apple trees, the intricately designed and lit braziers and people dressed in their best clothes forming a circle around them, the brunette let out a small, affection-filled sigh that also carried a tone of relief in it. It was a quite charming scene, infinitely more suitable for her nuptials than the monstrosity her mother and King Leopold's seneschal had orchestrated. Intimate and understated, but no less beautiful, the grove also carried the metaphoric presence of her father within it, and having done much to prepare the trees for the night, Emma's magic was pulsating over the grounds, enveloping the space and providing safety and comfort for the brunette.
Only after having her fill of the orchard, Regina turned towards her beloved and, if she weren't supported by Percival's steady hold, she would have stumbled in her walk to her intended. Before she could even see her True Love, she saw the tree the Knight was guiding her to, and the succulent apples bending the branches of the beautiful tree. However, it compared nothing to the picture the Savior was.
Emma was glowing. Not only were the clothes adding a bit of ethereal illumination to the woman's presentation, the blonde herself radiated light under the shadows of the trees, reminding Regina of Unicorns and Fairies and their unique types of magic. But, above all, it was Emma's eyes that drew the brunette's attention. The blazing green fire sizzled as the Savior's gaze focused on her, and she couldn't help but preen under the devouring eyes of her lover, as her body heated up, the hunger that had been thoroughly sated that afternoon springing up worse than ever. Need surged through her blood and that all too short kiss only fanned the flames of desire.
Morgan's interruption came at a good moment, since she was just seconds away from attacking the blonde and making a spectacle of them both, but the cleared throat restored some sanity to her mind, and she quickly followed the blonde to the other side of the table, examining the objects placed on it. Two small carafes and a delicately wrought quaigh (a small bowl with flat extensions to the sides at the rim), all made of decorated silver, polished to shine, stood at the center of the table, forming a triangle with the quaigh being the point turned toward them. On the right side of the table, where Emma was standing, was a beautiful silk sash, folded and ready to be used. However, on Regina's side there was nothing, so she turned her head, catching Percy's eyes. A slight tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow were enough to let him know what she wanted, and he nodded, stepping a bit forward. His hand went to his belt and he took a small pouch of red velvet, bringing it over the table into Regina's waiting hand. Smiling at him in gratitude, the brunette gently lowered the pouch and brought her head forward, catching Emma's knowing look.
"If you are ready," Morgan spoke softly and seeing them both nod, she took her stand in front of them, with her back to the trunk of the apple bearing tree. "There is one more thing we need before we begin," she mentioned before she turned to Regina, motioning to the canopy above them. "Pick one," the sorceress instructed.
Glancing upwards, Regina chose an apple that was relatively close, using magic to bring it down from the branch, and with an impish grin, she offered it to the black Queen, her grin turning into a wide and joyous one when she heard the Savior beside her let out a loud guffaw of laughter.
Morgan shook her head and pointed to the table. "Place it beside the carafes," she instructed gently, and Regina belatedly remembered that the fruit was supposed to only be touched by her and her beloved. When the brunette complied, the sorceress nodded and another gong-like sound echoed around the grove.
At the sound, the crowd formed a half circle, facing the couple and the sorceress, murmuring of idle conversation stopping and in the silence that followed the only noise was that of several dozen people breathing and the fire crackling in the braziers.
Then, in a clear voice, heard everywhere in the grove, the Mistress of Brocéliande started the ceremony. "As it is custom, before the bonds are initiated, I now must ask our couple." She first turned to Emma, taking her left hand and holding it in both of hers. "Emma Swan," she intoned clearly. "Do you give your oath, enforced by magic, that you are participating of your own free will?"
Following the traditional forms, the blonde replied, "I so swear." The second she replied, her hand that was held by the sorceress warmed slightly, and then cooled right afterwards, signaling the acceptance of her oath.
"Do you give your oath that you are beholden to no other but the woman beside you?"
"I so swear."
"Do you give your oath that you took time to carefully deliberate the consequences of your union, as it is unbreakable?"
"I so swear," Emma replied for the last time, and Morgan released her hand, giving her a pleased smile before she turned to Regina.
Having repeated the questions and the manner of testing with the brunette, the black woman then turned to the guests and addressed them. "Their oaths are true. We now proceed." Clasping her hands in front of her, Morgan spoke to the couple. "Turn to each other." And, when they did so, she started walking deosil, passing Regina, then she circled around the table until she came to Emma's side of it and stopped. She took a deep breath and making the very air around her swirl with her magic, she started the rite.
"Blessed be this union with the gifts of Air. Communication of the heart, mind and body. Beginning anew with the knowledge of growth found in the sharing of silences." As she spoke, she used the summoned breeze to pick up the sash and unfold it over the table along the closest edge to the couple, the colorful fabric snapping in the gust of wind before settling down on the white cloth. As soon as she finished speaking, the crowd chimed up with "Blessed are they!"
Sharing a look between them, the True Loves picked up the chant, speaking as one. "Pledged in Wisdom, I shall serve and guide you, as you shall do for me." As their voices blended together, the women reached out for the sash and touching it with their fingers, allowed some of their magic to seep into it, the already vivid colors becoming positively vibrant when infused with the particular blends of magical fog. As soon as they were finished with their part, the breeze stopped and the air stood still.
Again, Morgan started walking, following the path of the Sun in the sky, and with her every step, the ground shook and rumbled. She stopped by Regina's side of the table, and suddenly a clump of earth appeared in her hand. "Blessed be this union with the gifts of Earth. Firm foundation upon which to build. Fertility of fields to enrich your lives. A shelter and a keep to which you may always return." She crumpled the clod and lightly tossed the dust over the couple as the crowd once again chimed in with their response.
For the next part, Emma took out her dagger and bringing her left hand over the quaigh, she pierced the tip of her ring finger with the sharp point of the blade, and as the blood seeped out, she let three heavy drops of it fall into the silver receptacle. She then offered the dagger to Regina, and watched her do the same, her heart tugging at the brief wince passing over the brunette's face at the cut. Receiving the weapon back, Emma absently spelled it clean and returned it to its sheath. Then, in concert with her beloved, looking into the shining caramel eyes filled with love, she spoke the next part of the chant. "Pledged in Life, I shall be your shield, as you are mine."
Following the circle she had already established, Morgan walked a quarter of turn, facing the couple across the table, her back to the West. She slowly lifted her hands and placing them palms upwards in front of her, she created two fireballs, letting the dangerous balls hover over the skin of her hands. With a smirk, she made one ball burn brighter, almost white in the dark of the grove, while the other one was clearly orange-red. "Blessed be this union with the gifts of Fire. Warmth of hearth and home. The heat of hearts' passion. The light created by both to illuminate the darkest of times." Slowly she cupped her palms together, merging the two balls into one before she sent it out, directing it to make three clockwise turns around the couple before it dissipated in the air around them, right as the crowd stopped with their chime.
If she hadn't been warned about it, Regina would have retaliated the second the fireball left Morgan's hands. But, during their afternoon talks, the older woman had described what her actions would be during the rite, so the brunette was prepared. She glanced toward her beloved, watching for her reaction, however, Emma only smiled and when she saw Regina's intent gaze, she rolled her eyes, before raising her brows. Seconds later, the blonde glanced towards the carafes, her prompt enough to bring Regina to action.
As it was expected, both she and Emma were to pour from the carafes into the quaigh, and as she grabbed the one on her side of the table, she noticed that it was filled with the dark and flavored port Colm had sent over the night before. She checked her timing with the woman beside and carefully poured a small portion of dark red liquid, as Emma poured a splash of white wine, its sweet scent filling the air. As the two liquids mixed, also the drops of blood already in the quaigh dissolved. As soon as the silver pitchers were back on the surface of the table, Regina looked at the Savior and together they spoke the next part of the rite. "Pledged in Love, I shall be your home, as you are mine."
The Queen of Camelot watched the two lovers speak, and blinked in surprise when she saw the small space between the women shimmer for a moment, right as they finished with speaking their part of the rite. Shaking it off, made a half turn around the table, coming from Emma's side and getting into the position from which she had started, looking at the two women. Clasping her hands in front of her, she called upon her magic to summon a bit of drizzle, only to fall on the women. "Blessed be this union with the gifts of Water," she spoke clearly. "The deep commitment of the lake. The swift excitement of the river, the refreshing cleansing of the rain. The all encompassing passion of the sea." Letting her magic taper off and the drizzle stop, she waited for the people's chant to echo around them before she motioned to the women to speak their words.
Regina inched closer toward Emma and taking a breath that her beloved echoed, she spoke in concert with the blonde. "Pledged in Magic, I shall be your succor, as you are mine." Then, focusing on Emma, she used her magic to pick up the apple from the table, not at all surprised when the blonde's magic joined her in the endeavor, easing the strain of just keeping the fruit hanging in the air between them. They were almost done with this part of the night, and Regina couldn't wait.
Morgan smiled as she felt both women's magics mixing and holding up the apple, as it was expected of them. However, by the tellings of her forefathers and other magical practitioners who performed this rite, rarely was the blend of magic so successful, the result of it often bobbing the fruit in front of the to be wedded couple, or even destroying it completely. But, now, the red apple stood motionless in the air, right between the two faces. Slowly, she reached beside Regina and picked up the velvet pouch, and holding it carefully with the fingers of both hands, she made another circle around the couple - the third and final one. As she walked, she spoke. "Blessed be this union with the gifts of each other. The power that ties you in Destiny, the will that carries you on. Like the binding circles I make around you, the circles of your pledges will signify your bond to all others." When she returned to her spot in front of them, she opened the pouch and carefully slipped one ring out, making sure not to touch it by the skin of her fingers. Seeing the green on it, she lowered it carefully in Regina's palm. Then, she placed the other one in Emma's waiting palm. As the crowd shouted their last "Blessed are they!", she urged the lovers to speak their final words of the rite.
Emma glanced down at the ring resting in the palm of her hand. It was an elegant platinum band, with small ruby chips, mixed with black and white diamond dust, covering one third of it, and on the inside of it, two Elvish glyphs were etched - Love, Always. Feeling the tears well in her eyes, Emma looked up, and gave a shaky smile to her beloved. As she prepared to put the ring on Regina's left hand, she noticed the ring in the right. It was identical to the one she was holding with one difference. Instead of the ruby chips, there were emerald ones.
Clearing her throat, Emma brought the ring to Regina's left hand, placing the band over the tip of the ring finger, and when the brunette did the same, the women spoke as one. "I take thee to be my bondmate." And, with those words, they slid the rings in place, Emma's one perfectly slotting with the engagement ring.
It was on Morgan to finish the rite, and she gently took Emma's left hand, before she reached for Regina's, and making them hold their hands, palm to palm, the sorceress carefully picked up the sash, feeling the tingling presence of magic in it. "As you are united in Wisdom," she said in a loud, clear voice before she wrapped the sash around their clasped hands, starting from one wrist to the other. "In Life and Love," she said as she picked up the quaigh offering it to Emma first to take a sip from it, before doing the same to Regina. "And, in Magic," she continued, lowering the half empty quaigh onto the table.
As the apple was already held up by the two women, they only had to take a bite of it, and with some shared silent teasing, the blonde took the first bite, the loud crunch of it reverberating in the air around them, followed by the noisy chewing. Rolling her eyes at her wife's silent laughter, as the joke of forbidden fruit echoed over her mind, Regina took a bite of the apple, her manners more dignified as she chewed.
When the magic holding the fruit in the air dissolved, and the apple was lowered on the table, Morgan continued, placing her hands on Emma's and Regina's shoulders. "You become One, though you might be Two. Not a grievous word shall have power to sow discord between you." She was about to speak the next stanza of the rite, but she hesitated as a small, brilliantly white line appeared over the sash, winding around the wrapped hands. The bond, Morgan realized. It was manifesting in magic. "Neither sword nor spear shall harm your entwined hearts," she said and paused to see if another line would appear. And, it did, criss crossing the one already there, creating a shining web around the sash. "No stranger shall sully the sacred cords of your marriage," the sorceress added with some enthusiasm, wanting to see the next cord of light appear on the two's hands. The line showed, making the mesh look even tighter. "Nothing of this world shall cut the ties between you," Morgan spoke the next to last part of the rite, and just as expected the fourth line came. She took a deep breath and with a clear voice, she said the last part. "And, even Death shall not tear you asunder as you walk by each other's side, your bond everlasting!" She couldn't help but pronounce the last part quite loudly, and as soon as her words left her mouth, the mesh of lines became a solid sleeve of magic, shining so brightly that it almost blinded her, and everyone present, except the bonded couple, who had not looked away from each other's eyes during the last part of the rite. After three seconds of blinding presence, the light sank into the hands it was around, showing the sash as it had been before.
The next hour passed in various greetings and accepting congratulations and awed testimonies of watching their bonding. Accepting the hugs and poundings on her shoulder from the people she had been interacting the most in Brocéliande with exuberance, as she stood by her wife's side, Emma often returned the physical contact with equal measure. But, with time, she started graciously accepting handshakes, and offering a nod here and there as the villagers swarmed to congratulate them. And, soon, her patience and affability lessened with each new stranger casually breaching her space, gushing about the magical spectacle and their good wishes for the couple, her smile turning from an honest and real one into one of polite cordiality.
The second she gritted her teeth at the overly friendly touch from a villager she had never seen in her life, Percival intervened, tossing his arm around the man's shoulder and led him away, stalling the crowd, giving Emma some much needed space. Right then, she felt the soothing touch of her beloved as Regina gently placed her palm on the blonde's cheek.
"You okay?" the brunette whispered softly, peering into Emma's eyes, glad to see the traces of irritation disappearing.
"Yeah," Emma answered, inclining her head a bit but gently, in order not to dislodge Regina's hand.
"I'll bet," the brunette retorted with disbelief before she grabbed the Savior's left hand, her thumb passing over the featured part of the band. "Come on," she tugged and led the blonde away, grabbing the two carafes in passing. She led them deeper into the darkness of the grove, seeking privacy away from the din and people. "They won't disturb us for a while." Giving the woman in white one of the carafes, she took a sip from her own. Only a sip, though, for getting drunk on fortified wine seemed like a bad idea.
Sniggering, Emma leaned against the closest tree. "Of course, they won't. The way you pulled me away said enough." Considering her drink, she tilted her head as she peered at the woman. She took a swallow of the sweet moscato and lowered the carafe down, setting it by the tree trunk. Gently encroaching on Regina's space, she wound her arms around the woman's middle and placed a tender kiss right at the corner of the brunette's mouth. Immediately, a hand appeared at the nape of her neck, guiding her into a deeper kiss with her wife, the insistent lips taking her breath away.
After a long while, Emma pulled her head away, her lascivious eyes gliding over the woman in her arms. "Shall we indulge their notions?" she said in a low voice, her hands gripping Regina's behind, pulling the tantalizing body tighter against her.
"You'll crease the dress," Regina murmured, slapping Emma's grubby hands away, but she didn't move from the Savior. At Emma's jokingly fallen face and cute pout, the brunette darted in and kissed the pout away, biting lightly on the lower lip. "After the Inheritance," the older woman's low, husky tone filled with promise flowed over Emma, bothering her in all the best ways.
"If this is punishment for this afternoon, I object," Emma murmured with a sigh, bringing her beloved into a tender hug, swaying them gently. "I didn't tease you."
Regina laughed at the reappearance of the pout. "Oh, Emma. This is not teasing, this is just you being a horn dog." She held Emma's gaze, enjoying the full force of the blonde's love for her spilling out of the green eyes. "Not that I mind," she murmured, bringing her left hand to Emma's face, caressing the woman's cheek.
"Hmm," Emma hummed affectionately, an idea springing to her mind. She took the hand on her cheek and kissed the knuckles, before she brought the clasped hands in the tight space between their bodies, leaning the top of Regina's palm against her chest. Then, doing her best to recall the song that had been playing at several weddings she had been to before coming to Storybrooke, and the song that for some reason was now playing in her mind, Emma focused on her magic, and soon enough the soft tendrils of the music filled the air around them. Then the hauntingly beautiful voice started singing.
Memories we share together
Moments no one else can know.
Regina raised her eyebrow before letting a soft smile come on her face. "This will not be our wedding dance song in Storybrooke," she murmured, before she snuggled deeper in Emma's embrace and let the woman sway them around as the soft notes of the song played around them.
"This place kinda brought the song to mind," Emma replied quietly, her lips touching the brunette's cheek, paying no heed to the woman's grumbling comment.
Time goes by, and the snow is drifting
The snippets of the song seemed so appropriate for the moment they were in, the former Evil Queen noted, and the blonde did have a penchant for humming whatever song came in her mind whenever she was relaxed or happy, Regina had learned during her time in Brocéliande. It was always a joy seeing what random melodies the Savior would feel like sharing in their quiet moments. This was an odd choice, but still very on point.
I can hear your heartbeat
The gentle tones of music surrounded them, fueled by Emma's magic and while the song played, the Sheriff noticed the cold creeping upon them. They had left the spelled protection of the gathering circle, and far away from the braziers and heated air, the winter's snap was around them. However, they were not in danger, and Emma only pulled Regina closer in her arms, letting her own heightened body heat to provide enough warmth for both of them. The Yaoguai blessing sheltered them both, and the blonde affectionately thought back to the words Morgan had chanted during the Rite. Gifts of each other, indeed.
You have lost yourself in dreaming
I have lost myself in you
As the last notes of the song hung in the air, the two women glanced up at the skies and chuckled at the appropriate verse at the end of the song.
Stars and midnight blue
The clouds that had brought the snow storm on Brocéliande had cleared out and now, a brilliantly lit sky was dotted by many, many stars. Having spent several minutes just enjoying Emma's arm around her and watching the stars in silence, Regina took her eyes off the amazing sight and looked at her wife, taking in the blonde's features in the starlight. The subtle glow at the grove was now enhanced under the cold illumination of the distant sources of light, her skin pale and her eyes glimmering silver, further brought out by the incredibly crafted tunic and the cape Emma was wearing.
Feeling her staring, the Savior lowered her eyes from the skies and fell into the gaze of the dark ones. "What?" she uttered, her word barely a whisper in the quiet of the night.
"I should call you Galadriel, Lady of Light," Regina, in turn, murmured absently, ignoring Emma's amused snort. "Or should it be Lady of the Wood? Since Brocéliande will become fully yours in a matter of hours." Then, she blinked in surprise at the knowledge that sprouted up in her mind. "You really loved those books."
The blonde couldn't help but chuckle at the odd tone in Regina's voice, hovering somewhere between a question and a teasing statement. "Before the movies, libraries always had them on hand, and the world was far enough away from mine that it provided a good enough escape." Then, she tilted her head, thinking of something else. "So, you didn't actively plan on this," she spoke, pointing to her chest with her chin, "being so Elvish?"
"No," the Queen replied strongly. "I saw the tunic and the leather work, and built around that."
Nodding at her words, Emma smiled. "Thank you," she said with heartfelt gratitude. Then, hearing something in the woods behind her, she released the woman from her arms, her hand going to the dagger at her side, while her left was slightly raised and ready to cast. But, only seconds later, she relaxed, recognizing the person approaching them, her posture now one of ease, and she invited Regina back in her hug, keeping the cold away, ignoring the brunette's frown at her all-too-quick mood changes.
It was the Knight of the Round Table that intruded upon their solitude, coming to bring them back to the gathering circle. When he first emerged from the trees, he held a hand in front of his eyes as he called out to them, but when Emma snorted at his courtesy, Percival simply grinned at them and shrugged. With a quick word, he relayed that the crowd had settled and that Morgan wanted to proceed with the Inheritance Rite. So, following the Knight, the two women went back to the grove, their arms entwined, leaning into each other, with the blonde carrying the empty carafes, their drinks victims of the careless handling of the containers.
Percival led them to a small cleared space in the grove, where the stone which magic Emma had noticed that morning was. It was still within the protective enchantments both she and Morgan had placed on the grove, and several people were standing around, carrying lanterns and torches for the light. But, Emma did not need them to see the Mistress of the House of Healing, her dress of flowing copper making her stand out, and even if it hadn't, Emma could quite easily feel the magic coming from the spot Morgan was standing near. The object the Queen of Camelot stood beside, her head bowed in respect as her lips moved in a voiceless speech, was a stele-like stone, about half of a man's height and the length of 16 or 17 inches, slightly tilted back, its width a hand wider at the base than at the top which tapered off to a half a hand. Its surface was covered in deep grooves and shapes, most of which were ornamental in nature, forming an imperfect map of the placement of the magically imbued stones, but at the center of it, in a hand by hand square of artificially flattened surface, the glyphs of the older Elvish had been carved in in a thick script. The script Emma could easily read, even from a distance that grew shorter with every step they made toward it.
The stone was one of four control ward stones, and it was the one the Tintagel had used for generations to maintain the border of Brocéliande and its protection, not daring to delve deep into the valley to access the other three, as the valley and the surrounding forest had been decreed the sacred property of the Kinds and off limits to humans. However, in the later generations of the magical family line, the people had forgotten that the menhir-like obelisks that circled the border of the Sanctuary weren't the only magical stones in it. The whole of Brocéliande was covered in a mesh of networked magical stones, only a few quite visible like the stele in front of her. It had been done for the stability of the enchantments and their durability, so, technically, any of the inner stones would do for this rite, like the one Emma had used in her inadvertent blood magic, if one had enough magical power to enforce the changes. However, due to expecting the power levels to wildly fluctuate in his descendants, Cador had the control stones made and inscribed with all the enchantments the networked rocks held.
Some of this information, Emma had gleaned from Regina's memories, some from Guardian's softly spoken instructions. But, some of it she had deduced on her own, helped by her magical senses. So, when she read the glyphs on the stone she tensed, in an effort to stop herself from laughing out loud. Feeling her beloved's worried eyes on her, she shook her head and leaned toward Regina's ear. "It's fine. I'll explain later."
The brunette narrowed her eyes at her beloved, but didn't ask. Moments after, her attention was captured by the carved stone and the sorceress standing beside it. And, right there, in front of the stone, was a thick, fur lined pillow. Pursing her lips at the implication, Regina sighed and resigned herself to the perceived indignity of kneeling before the other Queen and the rest of the gathered people.
"Please," Morgan addressed the two women as they approached her. "It is an hour before dawn, and we should begin." With her hand, the sorceress gestured toward the pillow. "If you would." Then, she turned to the Savior. "We'll be in need of your dagger once more, Geilgeis."
Emma gave an acknowledging nod to the older woman before she turned to her wife and, holding her hands, she gently helped her down to her knees, making sure not to step on her dress. Then, she crouched down, letting Regina's right hand go, and she brought her left to her lips, kissing the palm. "I'll be gentle," she murmured against the palm before lowering it down and holding it open with her left, grabbing the dagger with her right. As they needed only a little bit of blood to conduct the ritual, Emma decided to avoid cutting the palm completely, making small, shallow incisions on the tips of the three inner fingers. Putting her blade away, she squeezed the hand in her possession and after enough blood seeped out, streaming down the digits to the palm, she placed Regina's hand, palm first onto the stele, feeling the magic of the stone react to the offering. Checking in with her lover, Emma rose to her feet when she received a nod and an affectionate smile in return. Moving to stand a bit behind, she was stopped by a hand grabbing onto her own.
"Stay," Regina insisted in a quiet voice.
Glancing back to the sorceress and getting permission, which honestly she didn't need, having already decided to obey the brunette, she stood beside the kneeling woman, her feet in line with Regina's.
As soon as Regina relaxed into her place, sitting on her heels, Morgan clapped her hands, quieting the crowd around them, and closed her eyes, taking a minute to center her mind, drawing a smirk out of the blonde at the task in front of the Mistress of Brocéliande.
Already familiarized with the ritual and how it was supposed to go, Emma had a plan of her own, the plan she told no one about. She knew that there would be some questions and reprimands from the brunette later in the day, but warning Regina beforehand would spoil the surprise she had for Morgan.
As the sky started to turn lighter, the sorceress opened her eyes and everyone could see the magic shining out of them, and in a loud but solemn tone, she began to chant a long string of incantations in Elvish, anointing Regina as her Heir in the line of Tintagel and regent of Brocéliande.
The minute Morgan's voice started reverberating through the air around them, Emma started whispering, so low that not even Regina, who was closest to her, could hear, her own enchantments, only hers were in the older form of Elvish, the same one the glyphs had been written in, her acutely attuned senses feeling the magical shift in the network. With every further word in the quarter hour long chant, the magic built, streaming through the mesh and activating the stones before starting to gather and swirl in the air around them, making the control stone glow brighter and brighter by the minute. And, with the change in the magical field over the Sanctuary, the Kinds that had found their shelter here were alerted to the rite, and Emma knew it wouldn't be long before some of them came to investigate. As she followed Morgan's somewhat clumsy recitation, she realized that the Last of Tintagel struggled with the language, doing it more by rote, as if she had learned the rite by heart, rather than understanding what she was casting. On the other hand, Emma's soft murmur was fluent, her command of the magical language instinctual, and timing her speech with Morgan's, she was careful to finish her own chant just a second before the older woman, so that no one would see her muttering into her chin. She wanted a few more minutes of peace before the fireworks started.
From the second Morgan started chanting, Regina sat motionless, her eyes pinned onto the dark-skinned sorceress, while her hand was pressed against the rough and divotted surface of the stele. She followed the chant, her brows scrunching when the powerful sorceress would be in danger of mispronouncing a word, or would deliver some parts of the chant as a nescient would, the whole litany seeming rather perfunctory. But, it did what it needed to do, Regina thought as she felt the wards over the place come alive under the rite.
However, when the magic rose up, it didn't feel like the power she had felt during the time she had spent with Gorlois. There was some of that, and a close familial magic supplementing most of the power, but underneath it all, pulsing and thrumming, was the familiar blend of her beloved's magic. When Emma had told her about the accidental activation of the obelisk on her adventure, she hadn't quite understood the blonde's supposition that the stone latched on to her kind of magic, supplementing and almost supplanting the Tintagel line. But, it would seem that Emma, again, had been right, and Regina didn't know what was going to happen when Morgan finished. Would the rite fail? Would it backfire on her? On Morgan?
No, she immediately reproached her own mind for going on that road. Emma would never keep her silence if any injury was a possibility.
When the chant started winding down, the stone under her hand started heating up and she felt her own magic rise, interacting with the whole construct of the wards and enchantments over Brocéliande, and a moment before Morgan finished, Regina felt something settle in her own magic; the light coming from the stele shining through her hand before it winked out, leaving penetrating darkness behind. She was accepted as the Heir.
Slowly and carefully, still blinking out the dark spots the light of the stone had left behind, she peeled off her hand of the stone, expecting to see it bloody, but when she turned her palm up, there was not a trace of blood remaining on it. Nor were the cuts Emma had made minutes earlier. Not even the slight penetrating nick she had done to herself for her wedding rite. It was all gone and healed. Too entranced by her hand, it took her a long moment to realize that the ward construct was registering a steady change and flux in magic around her, and as she had just been accepted as the Regent Warden, it was making her aware of it. Remaining seated on her knees, Regina lowered her hand and concentrated inwardly, trying to decipher the new information she was receiving.
The silence fell around her, the crowd of villagers no doubt letting their Mistress recover from the arduous and long chant, and in these moments of quiet, Regina realized that the villagers were not the only ones watching the proceedings in the grove. However, before she could react in any way, she felt a firm grip of her beloved's fingers on her shoulder.
"Bi fhathast, mo Chridhe," the Savior warned quietly, the words instantly understood by the brunette. Be still, my Heart, Emma had said, and the contact between them enabled Regina to feel the enormous amount of magic the Sheriff was pumping into what she could assume from her experience was a spell of disguise. It was the warning that stopped her from reacting to what she could sense the camouflaging spell was hiding, and it was Emma's touch that allowed her to actually see what was there, invisible to anyone around but the two of them.
First, she directed her eyes right at the cliffs in front of them, moving her head slowly in order to escape notice from the people around them. Two creatures, different in size, engulfed in flames, perched on the outcropping above the grove, their gaze directed at the gathering. The older Yaoguai was leisurely settled on its hind quarters, just continuing to watch them, while the younger one, still in a pup stage, was watching curiously for a moment, yipping several times and quickly lost interest, curling up by the other.
Regina watched them in awe, her eyes hungrily getting every detail she could about these creatures. Not counting Emma's memories, this is the first encounter with the proud race from up close, almost able to feel their heat coming down from the cliff. After taking her fill of these gorgeous beasts, Regina glanced at the sorceress who had stepped a bit away the moment she had finished the Inheritance rite, standing close to Percival and Aileen who had surrounded the older woman in worry. Using her darting glance to check upon the woman, Regina, satisfied with what she found, looked away to the left, the thick forest that engulfed the grove. There, standing still among the trees, were two Unicorns. A stallion and a mare, one so brilliantly white that everything around him gleamed with the reflected illumination, while the other was a beautiful tawny color. They were so close to the gathering that they only needed to make a step closer with their hooves landing on the fresh grass and they would find themselves among humans. But, Regina knew, both theirs and Emma's magic would keep them and the people around safe.
There were envoys, Regina realized suddenly, each Kind presenting an elder and their heir. And, if that was correct, then the dragons were there as well. Without waiting for the signs of their presence, the brunette turned her head to the valley, her dark eyes scanning the air in between. At Emma's amused hum, her eyes darted to her beloved's face, a frown settling in her brows.
The Savior didn't reply but feeling the gaze on her face, Emma gently nudged the brunette's shoulder and covertly pointed to the opposite cliff from the Yaoguai. "They'll land there," she whispered in a very low voice, crouching down beside Regina. Offering her hand to the still kneeling brunette, she helped her up and smiling into the perceptive brown eyes, Emma brought the woman into a casual side hug. "They have been circling for a while. Can't get too close without breaking all the trees around." Just as she spoke, in the same quiet voice, the two large figures swooped down from the skies, making a low pass over the grove, their clawed hind legs skimming the tops of the trees, before they caught an updraft and glided in a wide circle to land on the edge of the cliff the Savior had pointed out to Regina. But, Regina didn't really see them. She could sense them there and see the magic they radiated, giving their presence shape, but the spell Emma had woven was too strong for the brunette to actually see the new arrivals. The sudden wind their powerful wings created caused people to murmur, breaking the silence around them, and alerting the former Queen of Camelot that Regina was up on her feet, held by the Savior.
"We have only one bit left," Morgan commented, approaching the two women and the stele they stood next to. As she stood right in front of them, the dark skinned woman nodded to the Savior, her eyes taking in the supportive but entrapping hold Emma had on her wife, the tenderness portrayed with the heads leaning to each other enough to speak of their incredible bond. The blonde returned the nod respectfully and slightly hesitant, she released the brunette, pressing her lips against Regina's cheek before she stepped back. With a soft, almost motherly smile, Morgan then took Regina's hands in her own, turning them palms up and caressing the creases on them with her thumbs. "When my dearest friend commanded of me to teach you, I imagined years upon years teaching you and getting to know you, redeeming myself for all the time that I couldn't watch you grow as Henry had wanted. But, the fates have conspired and led us to another path, where you hold not only all of my teachings, but of all that had come before me all the way to Gorlois the Line Maker." Morgan sighed, her breath becoming ragged with emotions. "I thought I had more time," she quietly spoke, her voice breaking at the last word, before she tried to smile through the tears that spilled over but failed.
It was Regina's gentle fingers pressing lightly on Morgan's thumbs, offering comfort in such an inconspicuous way, that gave her the impetus to go on. "Now, I must place a heavy burden into your hands as I bestow upon you all my titles and all the duties they carry with them." Releasing the hands, the older woman placed her hands onto the brunette's shoulders, and with a fortifying inhale she spoke her proclamation. "As you are my Heir, the future Sovereign of Tintagel and the Queen of Camelot, from this time henceforth you shall be known Queen Regina Y Doeth, for you hold all the wisdom and knowledge of my people."
The first to react was Percival, and he raised his fist into the air and shouted, startling the people around him with his suddenly booming voice. "Long live Regina the Wise!" At his second shout, most of the people in the crowd joined him, but at his third, all of the people joined in, and Morgan smiled as she shared a look with the Savior, both women saying the words with pleasure.
The sorceress then raised her left hand off Regina's shoulder, inviting Emma to step closer, and when the Savior stood by her wife, their fingers tangling together almost instantly, the black matriarch reached out to place her hand on Emma's shoulder, briefly hesitating as she sought permission for touch with her eyes. With it granted, her palm landed softly on the blonde's right shoulder, while she still held Regina's left, the three of them creating a triangle of sorts. "Your bond is the most beautiful magic I have ever seen, and I know that I leave the Forest in good hands. It is an honor to know you." Gently squeezing the shoulders under her fingers before releasing them, the sorceress lowered her arms and made a step back, but before she could turn away, her left hand was caught in the Savior's strong grip. Catching the oddly shining green eyes boring into her, Morgan frowned, but she didn't speak, letting the blonde proceed at her own speed.
The woman in white came closer, leaning a bit forward. "Despite my initial animosity," Emma started speaking in a quiet but clear voice, her earnest tone accompanied by slightly raised eyebrows and direct gaze. "I really do appreciate what you and everyone else have done for me here. I have learned a lot." For a second, Morgan believed that Geilgeis was done, but the Sheriff kept her hold on her and after a small hesitation, the blonde sighed, her proud shoulders slumping a bit. "I hope you will not think badly of me," she added, with an apologetic tone, before she let go and stepped back, preventing the stunned sorceress from replying.
Morgan opened her mouth to question the Savior about her odd comment, but as Percival softly called her name, reminding her that she still had things to do before the Sun came up, she dropped it and turned to the ward stone.
Getting a small knife from Percy, Morgan made a cut over her palm and as she turned her clenched fist to let the blood drip over the carved surface of the stone, she started speaking once more, chanting in Elvish, but this time her chant was much shorter. All the while she was speaking, she couldn't help but frown. Morgan had felt the wards react and accept Regina as the Regent, quite surprised by the force of their response, having believed that they had been almost completely depleted; but now they seemed almost dormant, barely reacting to her words. She had one more stanza of the chant to go through and, hopefully, there would be enough feedback for it to work properly.
Then, she heard her Heir speak to her wife. "What's happening?" Regina asked quietly, not a trace of worry in her tone, only curiosity. With an ear perked to hear the Savior's answer, Morgan went through the magical words. But, instead of a common tongue, the Sheriff replied in Elvish, the words pouring out of her with enviable ease, her dialect an ancient one, hard to understand, but carrying magic in its words even more than the language she was currently speaking, sparking an amazed murmur from the crowd around them.
"Chan eil chumhachd aice thairis air Brocéliande tuilleach," came the quiet words, and Morgan could understand only every other word of it, if that. Something about having power and Brocéliande. She has power? No. Morgan went through the words in her head again, but it didn't quite fit. However, she had just finished with the chant and it drew her attention away from the Savior's words. She waited for the affirming flash of light and magic, but instead of the most brilliant glare of the stone, the engraved surface barely lit up, although the blood did sizzle up and disappear in the acceptance of the offering.
"That's odd," she murmured, feeling the power of the wards leave her completely, however, when she looked at her Heir, no change registered. Regina was still the Regent, not the main Warden as she was supposed to be after this ritual. In consternation, she peered at the blonde, the previous instances of oddities coming to her at once. Suddenly renewed wards, Geilgeis's apologetic stance minutes before, the Elvish… When it was put together, Morgan finally understood the words the blonde had spoken to her wife. She no longer has power over Brocéliande. And, the Savior had said that before she had renounced her rule over the Sanctuary.
As if she felt Morgan's scrutiny, the Savior looked away from the brunette and gazed unflinchingly into her eyes. "Tha mi," she revealed, unwavering under the many looks of the crowd, the sharpest of which was Morgan's. I do. Of course she did. Well, if that didn't explain a lot of it, Morgan thought as she snorted, waiting for righteous anger to rise up within her at the actions of that young usurping hero, but nothing came out of it. Nothing except a wondering sense of relief, accompanied by confusion and curiosity.
"Explain," Morgan addressed the Sheriff. When she saw the woman bristle at the tone, she amended her sharp order. "Please."
However it was Regina's soft two words that finally convinced Emma to speak. "Toradh dhi."
The former Queen of Camelot raised her eyebrows at her Heir. The soft command, issued with such confidence, could have been translated as 'Yield to her', but Morgan sincerely doubted that version applied. So, she was left with the other one - Indulge her.
The Savior smiled at her beloved, the soft glimmer of affection beaming at her from the gentled eyes, before the woman made a short nod and suddenly, in front of Morgan wasn't Emma Swan, the supportive spouse of the former Evil Queen and her Champion, but the Savior, the Sheriff of the Enchanted Forest. The woman straightened her shoulders, her flex making the cape behind flutter up. The picture of the hero in white was further enhanced by the rays of light coming from the slowly rising Sun.
As the Sun appeared over the high ridges, Morgan felt something change in the air around her, gasping in surprise when the light of day spilled over the dragons perched on the cliffs, watching them keenly. But, her startled exhale was swallowed by the clamoring coming from her people as they noticed the Yaoguai and the Unicorns, the soldiers of Camelot quickly rushing up to surround their Queen and the two women in order to protect them.
The Savior shook her head at the soldiers' reaction and turned to Percival. "Rein them in," she ordered quickly and not waiting to see if he was going to comply, she stepped to the stone, standing beside Morgan. "It is written in the stone," the blonde started, her eyes darting to her beloved at the pun. "The loyalty of Brocéliande wards wasn't with the Tintagel line, Queen Morgana," Emma said, addressing the black woman with respect, not a trace of smugness in her words. "It was clinging to the remnants of Gorlois's power, the power that his son Cador, and a very few others shared. The remnants that were still palpable in the blood of your forefathers and in you." As she reasoned it out, she used her fingers to trace specific glyphs that supported her story, showing them both to Regina and Morgan.
"True Love Born," Regina uttered in understanding. "The representative of the Fifth Kind, True Love."
Emma nodded, before she turned to Morgan. "Brocéliande was always intended as the Sanctuary for the Kinds first, then the rest of the magical beings, and as such the rightful steward of the place is intended to be one of them. Or us, I should say." The blonde motioned to the shifter watching them with interest. "You are, no doubt, informed about my adventure with the Unicorns." After the confirmation from both the Wolf and Morgan, the Savior continued. "I was bleeding when we reached the inner border stone, and when the menhir was presented with the pure source of the power Gorlois had, the wards grabbed onto it with the furor of a drowning man." Then, with a soft, but somewhat scoffing laugh, Emma disclosed, "I have done nothing but be what and who I am." With a frown as she glanced at Regina, the woman added, "And, bleed…"
Regina came closer, putting her hand on Emma's shoulder in comfort, and once more chimed in, adding one more tidbit to aid Emma's explanation in a tone barely over a whisper. "When I met Gorlois, he allowed me access to the knowledge of Tintagel only because I was Emma's True Love. He was delighted to hear of another True Love Born in this world."
Morgan sighed, convinced both by Regina's earnest words and Emma's clarification, shaking her head ruefully between the two women. So much of her own family's legacy she was unfamiliar with, but after the tirade she had heard from the founder of the line the night before she believed her Heir. No doubt the man had realized that with the Savior's presence within the borders of Brocéliande the allegiance of the wards would change, and that was the only reason he insisted on Morgan giving her titles to Regina, pronouncing her Heir, knowing that when Emma took over the wards, that the brunette would be Regent anyways. Was this additional punishment for her transgressions? "Then, all of this… Why the production?" The sorceress motioned with her still bleeding hand, her gesture encompassing the whole of the grove. "What's the point?"
Something about her words made the Savior chuckle, and the blonde reached for the injured hand, gesturing to the former Evil Queen to answer. Holding the dark skinned limb in her left hand, Emma traced the cut with the index of her right, healing it instantly, even disappearing the left-over tracks the flowing blood had made. The tenderness and care with which the Savior healed her, and still held on to her hand, soothed the injured pride in the woman, and with a calming deep breath, Morgan looked to her Heir and allowed all the affection she held for her dearest friend's daughter to show on her face.
Still very close to the woman who had known her father very well, Regina reached out and placed her hand on Morgan's other arm. "You made my father a promise, and I gave you my word," the brunette responded. "And, doing the wedding rites here, among new friends and someone who has known Henry…" The newly entitled Queen of Camelot paused, unable to find words.
"It means a lot to her," Emma assured the sorceress, taking over. "To both of us." The solemn silence among the three of them was quickly broken by Emma's quip. "Being married by Morgana Le Fay says something, doesn't it?"
Ignoring the awkward chuckle Morgan let out, Regina squeezed the woman's forearm. "Do not think this was just a ruse to punish you or something. You performing our rites was a gift I do not know how to repay."
At last mollified by the joint attack, the sorceress smiled at the brunette. "You need not repay me, child. You are my Heir."
Giving them a moment, the Savior waited for a bit before she interrupted the two women. "Well, if this is all sorted, I need to finish the rite properly." Rubbing Morgan's forearm in added camaraderie, she leaned over and kissed Regina on the cheek before she turned around, fully facing the stone. Fast as a flash, she took out the dagger and sliced across her fingers, her sudden action prompting a soft yelp out of her wife before Regina got hold over herself. Pressing her bleeding digits onto the glyphs, she looked around, her eyes scanning over the crowd. "The True Kinds have every right to be here and if anyone makes a threatening move towards them, they will answer to me," she menaced the people in a sharp voice, glaring at the soldiers who still held their spears in the formation. When Percival's men relaxed their stances under the Savior's glower, Emma took a deep breath, letting her magic flow through the air.
"I, Emma Swan, the thrice blessed Keeper of the Balance, elected First of the Kinds, Sheriff of Storybrooke, Savior of the Enchanted Forest, and the first True Love Born in these parts in the last four hundred years, humbly and fully accept the wards and the claim over Brocéliande and the Sanctuary, as well as the sovereignty over the lands and knowledge of Tintagel, as the Magics of the Line and the Kinds demand." The woman in white and gold, caught in the morning Sun proclaimed in Elvish, her ease with the language notable to everyone in the grove and beyond. "As I have spoken, so it must be," she finished with a flare, as the stone in front of her shone so brightly that its light rivaled that of the Sun. However, it was the voices of Regina and Morgan shouting back in unison, accompanied by the growling roaring speech of Dragons and affirmations from the Unicorns and the Yaoguai that stole the show, the thunderous force of such power shouting "So it must be" as one making the earth itself shake.
Immediately after that, the Dragons lifted into the air and flew down to the valley, their exit followed by the other Kinds leaving as well. Eyeing their departure, the blonde grinned impishly at the sorceress and the Knight, and reaching for her wife's hand, she tossed out, "We'll be off, too," before disappearing into the smoke of a transport spell.
Astonished by the Savior's daring and the women's abrupt vanishing, the former Queen started laughing, first letting out a few quiet chuckles before it slowly grew into a loud, gregarious and delighted guffaw. Turning to Percy, Morgan barely managed to stop her hooting before she was completely out of breath. "Those two," she commented with a titter, shaking her head in glee.