Author's Note: I know this has been languishing unfinished for a horribly long time. I want to finish it. I know how it should go. I have been struggling though. Anyway, here's the update. This chapter is titled "Cross Purposes" and when next Emma and Regina are together, assumptions as well as curious discoveries are made. ~ LZ
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When Regina refused again in the morning to accompany Daniel to the White Castle, she should have expected what happened within the hour.
Princess Emma showed up at her home. The princess held out a fistful of wild flowers. Regina shook her head and stepped back from the doorway, knowing she couldn't refuse the White princess inside her home.
Though the princess pressed the flowers into Regina's hands, she tried not to take them. She tried for a mildly stern tone, unwilling to sabotage Daniel's standing at the castle. "You should not be bringing me flowers, Princess."
"Oh, well, no, I - would you accept - " Princess Emma paused and then Regina was surprised. The woman waved behind her. "F, uh, ran into Daniel, you know, uh, on my way here. He, uh, said you like, um, and to give... So, they... they're really from him."
Regina rolled her eyes, knowing a lie when she heard one. "Really, Princess? Daniel, though I love him dearly, hasn't given me flowers since we were courting." What she couldn't understand - and definitely could not ask - was why?
Emma's voice was plain. "You deserve flowers."
Regina found herself accepting the wild array. Emma's hand brushed against hers, causing tingles. She took in the profusion of pink, purple, yellows, reds and whites. White Castle had an abundance of flower gardens, even hothouses for exotic plants. Something about the fact the Princess had simply plucked these on the roadside touched Regina with its simplicity.
Daniel had indeed given her flowers from time to time when they were courting, sneaking around behind her mother's back, and often, like these, the bunches were snatched from the wildflowers abundantly covering the hillsides between her family's grand home and Daniel's home village.
Mesmerizing green pools, with flecks of brown and sparkles of gold and silver making the other woman's gaze so unique, so magical, held her in thrall when she looked up. She swallowed. "Oh, all right. Fine. Come in while I put these in water."
Princess Emma's face lit up with her smile. "Thank you."
When she turned around with the flowers in a cup, Regina saw Emma frowning deeply as her gaze swept the home's interior.
"It's nice, "Emma said quickly when she'd been caught.
"It's not rooms at the castle."
"No. It's better," Princess Emma emphasized. "This is a home you've made with your…with Daniel. That makes it beautiful."
Regina relaxed marginally. It seemed Princess Emma was in an ingratiating mood, and not as short-sighted as other royals. "Thank you."
Emma nodded even as she moved around the space, reaching out to touch this or that small thing. Regina wondered again why, why would the young woman have such a faraway, lost look.
Emma's voice caught her by surprise. "Do you have anything of your parents'?" she asked. "You were a noble's daughter."
"I was. But it matters not at all. Who has need of riches when I have love?" Regina replied. "Too many with riches have none."
"Don't I know it," Princess Emma muttered. "My parents love each other with quite nauseating displays," she said a little louder, lifting her gaze to meet Regina's. "Me, I kinda prefer the quiet, too."
"You don't sound much like a princess," Regina remarked.
"I wasn't really raised to it," Princess Emma replied. She bit her lip and looked away from Regina.
What an odd thing for the child of Snow White and Prince Charming to say!
For all she hadn't cared to keep up with the goings on at the palace, no one could have missed the grand parties held and announcements given of the White princess's every milestone. Her first tooth. Every birthday had been reason for a grand party. Her first word. Her first steps. Her first horse, gifted to her on her fifth birthday. Even the evidence of Princess Emma's first bleed had been shown to the entire kingdom, the girl standing beside her soiled sheets, head down, cheeks rosy with the same embarrassment Regina remembered feeling on her own presentiment. Regina rolled her eyes. Regina's mother had used a dinner party to announce to several nearby nobles with eligible sons when Regina had her first bleed.
She narrowed her gaze and looked critically at the princess. Not raised to it? How could that be? Could the woman be a simpleton? Immediately Regina shook her head. Everything so far had shown the woman to be bright, thoughtful. The words nagged at her.
Not raised to it? How -
Regina bit her lip to stifle her gasp as an idea - preposterous and, yet, utterly possible - occurred to her.
Could the princess standing before her be a fairy-child, swapped with the real princess for some nefarious purpose, mayhap to get close and harm the royals?
While Regina knew the fairies led by Rheul Ghorm supported the White line to lead the Enchanted Forest, perhaps there were some less inclined?
But a problem still remained.
When would such individuals have found the princess alone enough to kidnap and replace her?
Her eyes widened as she hit upon exactly when.
The princess had been coming to see her without any escort for almost a month. And she had been frustratingly persistent.
Could the princess have been kidnapped and replaced so recently?
And why would this replacement be trying to befriend Regina?
How could she possibly find out?
"Regina?"
"Hmm? What?" She shook her head, loosened her white-knuckle grip on the ladderback chair at her small table, and came back to herself; Princess Emma was staring at her. Minimally, she could not send this doppelganger back to the castle until she knew what they - she - was dealing with.
"I would like to accompany you again today," the princess said.
"It is Saturday. While Daniel must always tend the horses for your father, my chore today is baking."
"May I help?"
As with everything else about Princess Emma, this request was strange. Now, however, Regina saw an opportunity to learn more, to uncover the ruse. "You may."
Again Regina was blinded by the woman's wide smile. "Thank you."
Why are you trying so hard to get me to like you? She recognized now all the signs of courtship in the behavior of the "princess."
Determined to unearth the plot, whatever it was, she smiled back. "I am being a terrible hostess. My apologies, princess." She fought to keep from putting her doubt into her tone when speaking the title. "Have you broken your fast yet?"
Emma's face screwed up in brief confusion. "Oh, break fast... yeah, yes. I've already eaten."
Ignoring what she now thought of as another slip by an imposter, Regina walked to the grain box and retrieved the end of yesterday's bread. From a muslin wrap, she retrieved a hunk of hard cheese and dried spiced pork.
"Now to steal an egg," she said to Emma. "Are you certain you have no need?"
Emma's eyes roamed the foodstuffs. Then her stomach made itself known with an audible rumble.
"I, uh, could eat."
"Sounds like it. Come on, princess, I'll let you chase off the chickens."
Emma's chasing of the chickens had her stumbling around the small yard and she'd fallen from tripping over a chicken, or her skirts, probably half a dozen times. So she had continued to do it even after Regina stood at the wire opening, basket on the ground, ready to reclose the coop.
"Princess!" Regina hissed, though she laughed when Emma sat up from the ground, legs and arms splayed like a rag doll, hay and dirt in her hair. "I have the eggs."
The mirth in Regina's deep brown eyes pleased Emma to have caused it. She would chase chickens all day if Regina would continue to smile like that.
Her hunger - she hadn't actually eaten before leaving the castle when she saw Daniel come in alone - reared its head again with a twisting growl that made her grasp her stomach as she stood.
"Come along, my dear," Regina said.
Emma stepped out and took the egg basket so Regina could secure the wire and prevent the chickens' escape.
"Next stop, the larder," Regina said.
"The what?" Emma winced. Certainly she was supposed to know what a larder was - if she'd grown up here. But she hadn't, and she suddenly missed being able to just reach into a refrigerator for her eggs and bacon in the morning. She gambled that a larder was a place for keeping food that wasn't necessarily fresh, probably preserved. "Of course."
Regina's expression went sour and then briefly she nodded. "Of course, you wouldn't know. Food magically appears on your table."
"I just enjoying eating." Emma dropped her gaze, feeling shame. "So, what is kept in a larder?"
"Our cured meats, ham, bacon, beef, cheese. It's a cool space underground."
"Thank you," Emma said sincerely. "I think I guessed that, but I appreciate you not making fun of me for not knowing."
"Perhaps you have been too sheltered at the castle," Regina said. She sounded sincere, even thoughtful and kind as she spoke.
Emma sighed; Regina was such a natural teacher. She felt a deep pain thinking this Regina would never have children. She would never know Henry. Henry! Emma clutched her chest, feeling slammed to the ground by the memory of her - their - son.
Regina's hand suddenly covered hers on her chest. "Is that why you have been coming to town? Did something happen that you recognize this lack?"
"I haven't…Life has been very confusing lately," Emma said, feeling the full melancholy of missing Storybrooke - and the life she wanted to live with Regina and Henry, her family - in that moment. "My parents haven't been very helpful."
"Perhaps it is just teen angst to disagree with one's parents."
Emma laughed loudly. "Oh my god, that is so a 'you' thing to say!"
When she finally collected herself, she looked up to see Regina bending over and opening a half-buried door in the ground. From the hole, Regina pulled out a small wrapped bundle. Regina opened it, showing the contents. "Cured ham," she explained.
Mouth watering at the idea of meat, Emma smiled.
Regina nodded and stood, putting the bundle in the basket Emma held. Then she dusted the dirt from her skirts. "Now, we're ready to go inside."
Regina retrieved a bowl for mixing the dough she would knead into the week's bread. She had just finished assembling the ingredients when Emma finished washing up from her chicken chasing, and came over to stand beside her while drying her hands.
"Anything I can do?"
"After I set this to rise, I thought I would make some sweetbreads," Regina said. She pointed out the honey. "We could share it later. Perhaps with some tea?"
"I'd like that."
Regina mixed and then separated the dough into two bowls. "Now we knead."
"Need what?"
Chuckling, Regina nodded at the bread. "We need to mix the dough together with firm rolling motions. It's called 'kneading'."
"Oh."
She cleared space and liberally dusted the area in front of her and Emma with flour. "Pour it out onto the flour and follow what I do."
Emma watched and followed, and the kneading was done quickly.
"Now, we let it rise. Roll it into a ball and put it back in the bowl." She reached over and grabbed a piece of muslin. "Cover it with this and we'll put it by the fire so it stays warm and rises well."
"Won't the fire bake it?"
"No, we'll actually put it on the fire to bake it."
"Oh, yeah, of course."
"Did you really never prowl the castle kitchens as a child, princess?"
"No. Did you?"
"Yes," Regina replied. "Much to Mother's chagrin, she almost always found me in the kitchens when she couldn't find me where I was supposed to be."
Emma picked up a nut from the pile Regina planned to crumble into the sweetbread and nibbled it. "Where were you supposed to be?"
"With my tutor."
"I had tutoring, too. I was a slow reader. And math."
Of course, you had tutoring, Regina wanted to say. That's how learning was done. But the way Emma spoke of it made it sound like she hadn't found it pleasant. "Were your tutors… did they treat you poorly?"
She couldn't imagine it; to mistreat the princess would be inviting the wrath of the king and queen. Then Regina thought of her mother's mistreatment. What if any punishments were never shared with the monarchs?
Regina shook her head. Where had her theory gone that this woman before her was a fraud? How quickly she lost sight of her objective when those green eyes shined on her!
"My mother frequently disapproved of my studies that were not directly related to my eventually becoming a monarch's wife," Regina said, offering commiseration. "I particularly enjoyed history, and languages."
"Languages, as in more than one?" Emma asked. "How many do you speak?"
"English, Spanish, and Latin expertly. Passably French and Greek."
"Wow, I never knew that about you," Emma said, yet again flummoxing Regina with her choice of phrasing.
Prior to one month ago, Princess Emma had not known Regina Colter nee Miller at all. Regina decided to ignore the comment, hoping she would be able to piece together the truth of this person who claimed to be Princess Emma.
The dough by the fireplace had risen while Emma helped Regina prepare the sweetbread batter. They brought the pans and set them in the fire. Regina did what she called a "pinch test" on the risen dough and pronounced it, too, ready to be baked.
When Regina turned over a large hourglass on the table, she said to Emma, "Now, I can do some darning while we wait for the bread to bake."
They fell into conversation as Regina worked. When Emma declined to take up the needle and threads herself, Regina asked bluntly, "Why is your mother not teaching you any of these things?"
Emma apologized. "I'm sure she'd say servants do these things. Not queens and princesses."
"That doesn't sound quite right. My mother was adamant that every lady must know how to do needlework. She was grooming me to be a wife to a king," Regina said.
Emma seized on a bit of information to help her settle what was different in this timeline. "What happened that you're now married to Daniel?"
"Daniel was the stableboy for our estate. I thought he was wonderful, that he would make something of himself. But my mother…" Regina shook her head. "She didn't see that. She tried to break us apart. But then…" Regina's gaze grew distant, then her brow furrowed.
Emma leaned in.
"And then she was gone," Regina finished, blinking and lifting her head as if rising from a dream; Emma's heart sank. There'd be no breakthrough here.
Regina shook herself again, smiled and shrugged. "After the proper mourning period had passed, my father gave us his blessing. Daniel and I were wed."
"Oh. Wow. So your mom, she's… gone?"
"Yes. While I cannot claim a perfect upbringing, you should learn some things. You may not make very straight stitches at first, but you will improve."
"You've decided you're going to teach me," Emma said.
"You've guessed correctly."
Emma sighed, stood, and held out her hands. "All right. What do I do?"
While they consumed the noonday meal, Regina engaged Emma in conversation. She chose topics that didn't rely on specifics of time or place and hoped to trip up the imposter. Emma had been nearly as clumsy with her needlework as she had been chasing chickens. However, by the fourth sock, her stitches had gotten closer and straighter. Regina resolved to redo Emma's earliest efforts. Her husband's toes didn't need to feel the bite of cold.
Emma winced as her needle-pricked fingers squeezed around the crusty bread and a thick piece of cold ham and a hunk of cheese, raising it to her mouth. She bit and chewed, and then grinned widely.
"This is amazing!" Emma's praise made Regina's ears heat.
"It will soon be swimming weather," she said, changing the topic. Idly, she cut a piece of her meat and chewed politely. Emma looked up from devouring her food. "I love to swim," Regina added. "Do you?"
"I don't think I'll drown," Emma said.
Regina's immediate thought was a lack of knowledge imperiled the young princess's safety, until she realized that Emma's answer was also probably another sign she was not the princess. "Not terribly coordinated?" she suggested, giving a meaningful glance toward her back door as she raised her eyebrow.
Emma's face flushed deeply. "I guess."
Regina found herself reaching across the table, a sudden determination to wipe the utterly devastating emotion of inadequacy off the young princess' face. "I could perhaps teach you that, too."
"I was awful at sewing." Emma pouted and sucked the tip of one finger between her lips. Regina watched that finger and felt something quiver in her stomach.
She quipped, "There are no needles in swimming."
She tugged Emma's finger from her mouth and gave a playful tap to the small cleft of Emma's chin. Adorable.
"When the weather warms a bit more," she added. "Not now. I wouldn't want to be responsible for the White heir freezing to death. Which would be entirely my fault, if it happened, not yours."
Emma laughed. "Thank you." She finished off the sandwich with one final bite, cheeks bulging as she chewed.
Regina smiled and squeezed Emma's hand. Fairy-child or not, she found the young woman utterly charming.
"All right," she said, quickly taking her hand away when Emma squeezed back. "Let's clean up."
Emma sprang to her feet and collected their dishes without being asked. Regina looked at the table for anything else to bring to the wash basin and spied the vial Daniel had bought from the imp the day before tucked against the jar full of the flowers Emma had brought her.
Her mind swirled with images of teaching a child - her child - to do all these things she was doing with Emma. To bake. To sew. To swim. Would she have a little boy or a girl?
She reached for the vial. There could be laughter in her home within the year. As her fingers closed around it and she lifted it toward her mouth, Emma asked, "What's that?"
"Hopefully, a curative for my condition."
"What condition?" Emma came over, her face a study in alarm.
Regina pursed her lips, tasting bitterness. "Surely you notice how the townspeople mock me, the childless wife."
"I didn't think you cared what they said." Emma sat down next to Regina.
"Daniel does." Regina lowered the vial and looked at it in her hands. "I want it, too."
"And that's supposed to help you? Where'd you get it?"
"A seer."
Emma frowned. "A fairy?"
"No, a glittery green-skinned little man," Regina said. "An imp. Very officious. Demanded our names and took nearly all our gold. But he said this would do the job."
Emma drew in a sharp breath. Her Regina, back in Storybrooke, had called Gold "imp." She'd told Emma the Dark Curse had been his spell. That he'd given it to her so she could cast it.
"Rumplestiltskin!" she blurted. "He's here?" Then she backtracked. "Shit, of course, he's here. He still hasn't gotten you to…"
She wrapped her hand around Regina's with the vial.
"Don't drink this!" Whatever it was supposed to do, Emma had no doubt in her mind that Regina drinking the potion would serve Rumple's purpose, not Regina's. She cast about for a reason this Regina would understand why he should be avoided. "He's the Dark One!"
"What on earth has gotten into you?" Regina asked, tugging her hand away from Emma's. "The Dark One is a grand wizard - powerful, huge, larger than life. Lives in a grand estate. He ended the last Ogre War. This… thing was hunched and hobbled, and… and…"
"C'mon, you called him an imp! You know something's not right," Emma pleaded, hoping even if Regina didn't trust Emma's word, she would trust her own instincts.
"But…"
Emma inhaled and exhaled and strove for calm. "Okay, I know… I know how much having a child means to you. But… but can you just… just wait, maybe? Give me time to check this guy out?" She held out her hand.
Regina placed the vial in it. "What are you going to do with a potion?" she asked.
Emma bit her lip. She hadn't tried it here, too caught up in trying to understand and get along. Did she…? "I'm still the child of True Love," Emma muttered.
Remembering making magic with Regina back in Storybrooke and what had happened when they'd made love on the hillside outside White Castle two timeshifts ago, Emma held out her right hand with the vial, and grasped Regina's hand with her left.
A small glowing ball of magic appeared hovering in the air above her fingers. Above the vial. Emma focused on what she wanted to know. Regina's hand shook in Emma's and she gripped it tighter.
The glowing ball of magic grew bigger and surrounded the vial. Sparks jumped between the two. Emma smirked; definitely not harmless.
Regina's eyes grew big as saucers. With a scream, she yanked her hand out of Emma's, gathered up her skirts, and ran out the door.
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