With The Tide - Chapter 14 - We Lay to Fiddler's Green!
Rating: M
Characters/Pairing: Emma Swan/Regina Mills, Emma Swan/Captain Hook, Emma Swan/OFC, Snow White/Prince Charming, Belle/Rumplestiltskin, assorted other characters.
Warnings: References to past rape.
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everybody who left such lovely reviews on the last chapter! I, of course, do completely understand negative reviews and welcome them along with positive ones!
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time does not belong to me, nor their characters or plots. The plot of this fanfiction belongs to shikabane-mai, and the artwork she drew can be found: post/46770603575/captain-emma-swan-and-her-former- bounty-mark
Chapter 14
We Lay to Fiddler’s Green!
“Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.” - Haruki Murakami
Emma awoke with an emotion coursing through her veins, almost entirely foreign to her. She searched her memories for this jittery, excitement, this passion, this level of devotion to one singular person and came up short.
The woman lying next to her interrupted her inquisitive thoughts with a loud groan. Regina stretched her arms out above her head and Emma was forced to dodge the limb in order to avoid getting punched. “Woah, there,” she teased, rolling onto her belly and tickling her lover’s sides. “Just because you’re part of the crew now, it doesn’t mean you can start punching the Captain in the face!”
Regina’s eyes shot open and she looked alarmed. “I punched you?” She asked incredulously. “But it’s so early in the morning!”
Emma sniggered as she increased the ferocity of her tickling. Regina squirmed beneath her, and then Emma found herself on her back as the Princess rolled them over. They both laughed at nothing at all, but it was the best kind of laughter. Regina met her lips over and over again, unable to get enough of each other but they couldn’t stop laughing long enough to kiss properly. It was a very pleasant dilemma, indeed.
Eventually, having seemingly tired herself out, Regina flopped off Emma’s body and back onto the bed. “What’s on the agenda today?” She wanted to know, speaking slightly breathlessly.
Emma bit her lip. “Today, we dock in Tortuga.” Next to her, she could feel the Princess freeze up and stiffen on the bed and quickly realised she had never familiarised the girl with the agreement between herself and Queen Cora. “Don’t worry,” she was quick to reassure her lover. “Your mother arranged to meet us at Port Wordsworth. Tortuga’s just a stop on the way.”
Regina visibly relaxed, sinking back down into the bed. “What are we stopping for exactly?”
Aware of exactly how her true purpose in visiting Tortuga would go down with her lover, Emma kept her answer deliberately vague. “Re-supplying mostly, but after over a month I think my crew are getting cabin fever.”
Regina narrowed her eyes at the Captain, but before she could call her out there was a sound from outside the sheet Emma had used to replace her destroyed door. “Captain?” Charming enquired, sounding hesitant. “Are you decent?”
“Sure,” Emma replied easily, just as Regina hit her on the arm and burrowed down underneath the covers. She was entirely covered by a blanket when Charming entered the room.
He looked discomfited, with every reason. Emma was sitting up against the headboard, naked with only a sheet to protect her modesty, whilst there was obviously a human-shaped lump in the covers next to her. “Snow and I would like to talk to you… before we dock in Tortuga.”
“About?” Emma asked sharply, having been awaiting this particular talk ever since she had eavesdropped on her parents’ argument the other night.
He bit his lip, clearly not walking to say in front of Regina. Emma sighed. “Fine,” she agreed. Normally she wouldn’t have hesitated to say ‘yes’, a good Captain kept in communication with his Quartermaster and Boatswain after all, but she wanted to avoid this talk more than anything.
“How far until Tortuga?” Emma enquired, just as Charming was backing up towards the door.
“Not sighted yet,” her father muttered, then darted through the sheet and back up the stairs. Emma couldn’t contain a chuckle as she swung her legs off the bedspread. After all the time they’d known each other, she would’ve thought her father would have been well-used to her nudity, drinking, assorted bed partners… etc.
“Is he gone?” Regina asked sleepily, wriggling from under the covers to regard Emma with doleful eyes.
“Yeah,” Emma confirmed, tugging her breeches up her calves. “But I have to go and talk to him, rather than…” she leant across the bed and pecked Regina’s full lips. “Doing that all day. As much as I want to.”
Regina’s eyes followed her as she pulled her linen shirt down over her head. “Is this what you’ve been worrying about all week?”
Her question caused Emma to frown. Was she so transparent to her Princess now? “Yes, but how’d you -“
“When you’re worried,” Regina told her. “You tap your knee with your right hand. Always.”
“Huh,” Emma paused contemplatively, tying her sash around her middle. “I’ve been worried because my dearest father is about to make a very stupid mistake indeed and he’s going to ask my help to do it.”
“Will you?” Regina quizzed her, as Emma shrugged on her coat.
The Captain paused on her way to the sheet-that-passed-as-a-door, looking back at her lover. The girl was propped up on one elbow and her right breast was bared to the cool air, though she seemingly hadn’t noticed. Her sleek brunette hair fell around her naturally inquisitive face and brown eyes stared soulfully up at her. It was a picture no man could ever deny. Or woman.
“I have a soft spot for foolish endeavours,” Emma admitted, before ducking round the sheet and jogging up on deck.
It was another busy, bustling morning on board The Bloody Blade. Geppetto had recently decided that the Quarterdeck stairs had sustained too much damage in the battle with the Nevic Navy to be repaired, and so he was going to replace them entirely. Emma would have no problem with that normally, but he had employed half of the crew to do the muscle work and she had to dock the ship in port later on.
“Captain!” Geppetto hailed her as she stood, observing the sweaty tendrils of Red’s hair and Grumpy’s straining biceps. “Come to assist?”
“Later,” she promised her Master Carpenter. “Snow and I need to hack out re-supplying details.” As suspected, when hearing the prospect of such a tedious meeting, Geppetto waved her off with a grimace.
Emma descended the steps to forecastle, ducking under the first line of hammocks to find Snow and Charming sitting on the bed in their cabin. The former couldn’t meet her eyes. The latter didn’t even try.
“What’s going on?” She asked from the doorway, reluctant to step inside. For days now, ever since she had overheard their argument on deck, she had gone out of her way to avoid them and this conversation. Part of her, although she had heard much worse, resented her supposed parents for their implication that she was an unfit mother. She knew that much, goddamnit. But she didn’t think either of them had the right to call her up on it, considering Charming had abandoned her as a baby and Snow had never had a biological child of her own.
“Captain,” Snow started, reverting to her formal address from… nerves? “Your father has a proposition for you.”
“Yes?” Emma raised her eyebrows, directing her gaze towards Charming.
“I… well - we,” Charming sputtered for a few seconds, before seemingly pulling himself together and, finally, meeting Emma’s eyes. “I want to invade Neverland.”
Sighing, Emma walked over to him and flopped down on the bed. “I can’t believe I left my very naked, very beautiful Princess behind for this,” she complained, rubbing her hands over her eyes.
Snow grimaced. “Will you at least listen to what he has to say?”
“No need,” Emma pointed out. “Charming misses the life of royalty, but can’t go back since he looted daddy’s coffers and got disinherited. Luckily for him, daddy is a shitty ruler, so the peasants aren’t very happy with him. So if the Prodigal Son returns to overthrow the King and form his own court, nobody will complain very much…”
Charming opened his mouth but Emma held up a hand to forestall his rant of objection. “If you’re about to give an impassioned speech on how crap the Nevic peasants are treated, then you’re preaching to the choir. I’ve seen a hell of a lot more of it than you have.” She sighed. “But, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, the right course isn’t always the most violent one.”
Her father looked at her and exhaled. “What would you suggest?”
Before she answered, Emma got up from the bed and shut the door behind her, locking it tight. She didn’t want anybody lying around in a hammock overhearing this.
It was noon before Sneezy, armed with a telescope and many tissues, first sighted Tortuga on the horizon.
Tortuga was merely a speck but Emma shivered with anticipation as she spooned pickled grapes out of a can and into her mouth. That was the problem with long sailing voyages - food. Anything fresh spoiled in the first week and then you had salted meats and the like. But it wasn’t long before even that went off and you were stuck with - Emma looked down into her can and shuddered - pickled substances.
She had taken over the wheel from Bashful almost as soon as she had come up on deck, ordering him politely to help out with Geppetto’s operation… which was still in progress. The first three new steps had been nailed firmly to the ship, but the remaining four were still in scattered pieces across the deck. As she watched, Red raised a hammer and brought it down hard with a loud bang, driving another nail into the wood.
“Good! That’s good!” Geppetto praised in an accent she thought originated in the Dragon Keys, but couldn’t be quite sure.
Charming emerged from the forecastle and Emma watched him go over to Geppetto, tugging off his linen shirt all the while to reveal sturdy biceps and firm abs. Even from Emma’s clinical perspective, he was a fine specimen of manhood and she couldn’t help but be a little bit proud of her genetics.
“Yours are better,” said a voice from behind her as a lean, feminine body molded itself against her.
“Princess Regina,” Emma scolded. “You’re becoming most brazen! And what am I better at now?”
Regina laughed, long and low. “Your abdominal muscles.” Her tan hand crept under Emma’s linen shirt and splayed fingers over the twitching muscles there. “Better than Charming’s.”
“I should hope so!” Emma exclaimed in mock outrage. “It’d be a little sad if the father was in better shape than the daughter.”
Regina laughed again and detached herself from Emma, snatching the can of pickled grapes from her hand and using her finger to clean out the inside. The Captain watched her with something approaching awe. “You’re becoming part of the crew, my dear girl. Whatever happened to using the proper cutlery?”
“I’ll be using proper cutlery for the rest of my life,” Regina pointed out. “Might as well make the most of my fingers whilst I still can.”
Emma chuckled. “Make the most of them in me and I promise to reward you.”
“Deal,” Regina brought their lips together and nipped down, before joining the carpentry crew and commandeering a hammer for herself. Emma touched a finger to her lips, where she had a little indent from the Princess’s teeth. Odd, she thought to herself.
And she continued to think so the rest of the afternoon as she steered the ship towards Tortuga. Regina got involved with banging nails and positioning wood, even at one point, to Emma’s delight, removing most of her layers besides her shirt and breeches.
As evening drew in on the Blade, Emma was loathe to pull the merry-making crew from their task, but they would be soon docking and she needed all hands on deck to make port. So it was with reluctance that she opened her mouth to begin bellowing.
“ALL HANDS ON DECK!” She yelled and was sad to see the crew disperse to their stations, some even taking their tankards of rum with them. Lines were untied and sails hoisted as Emma slowly guided the ship into the docks. Bashful took a leap onto the pier and tied off the first line, followed by Happy, then Sleepy.
“LOWER THE ANCHOR!” Emma bellowed and with a loud splash, knew that her instructions had been followed. The ship was well and securely docked and the gangplank went down with a clatter. Emma sighed in relief - cabin fever wasn’t just for the crew - and strode off towards the Port… forgetting for the moment…
“Wait!” Regina called from behind her and Emma closed her eyes. Recent breaches of etiquette or no, she knew with absolute certainty the Princess wouldn’t be able to handle Tortuga. The drinking, the dice games, the whores… well, maybe having worked in a brothel - she’d be able to handle the whores.
Still, it looked like her regular trip to Blue’s was out this time.
“Come on then,” Emma said resignedly, holding out her arm for Regina to take. Just as long as the Princess didn’t mind helping her to interview potential new crew members.
Unlike at night, Tortuga during the day was a tired old place. Long unemployed beggars roamed the streets while dodgy merchants did their business. Thankfully now the evening reigned and pirates that had been abed all day crept out from their hovels.
Emma had a quiet word with the bartender of The Snake’s Sceptre, her old haunt, and reserved both a room for the evening and a booth in which to recruit new crew members. Regina didn’t look quite as out of place as Emma had feared she would; perhaps those five years cleaning a brothel had come in handy after all.
“Go and have a word with some of them,” she quietly directed Red, Charming and Grumpy… indicating all the beefy, intimidating pirates hanging around the tavern. Next to her, Snow’s fingers were interlaced as she tapped impatiently on the wooden table whilst on her other side, Regina stared deeply into her rum tankard.
Emma had been hesitant to buy the Princess a drink, knowing what her feelings had been on drinking previously. But what the Captain had predicted had come to pass; Regina had lost her son… the only remaining question was had she lost her morals along with him?
“Are we going to find Belle?” Regina murmured, as Emma spied the first potential crew member of the night making their way over.
“If she’s still here,” Emma commented. “She’ll have been keeping an eye out for our docking and will be able to find us soon enough.”
Regina didn’t speak for a long time after that. Emma talked with many men and a few women, judging their sea-faring and sword-fighting abilities casually. In truth, recruitment was more about instinct and a quick background check than anything else. If Emma didn’t like the look of a man’s face - he was rejected. If she appreciated the muscles in another’s upper arm - he was accepted.
“Another?” Emma asked her Princess between pirates, noticing she had emptied her tankard.
“I’ll get it,” she replied, untying Emma’s purse from her belt with one hand and pivoting herself over the table to get out from the corner in which she had wedged herself.
Snow grimaced. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re in a lot of trouble with that one, Emma.”
“You’re in a lot of trouble with this whole overthrowing-the-Nevic-monarchy business,” Emma pointed out to her step-mother. “At least I’m getting laid.”
Snow sighed. Then she reached behind her neck to unfasten the leather chord that was always tied around her throat like a necklace, its silver charm dangling in her clavicle. “I want you to take this.” She dropped it into Emma’s outstretched palm.
Her step-daughter looked at her with uncomprehending eyes. “This is your charm. The one that prevents pregnancy.” She lifted the one that lay in the hollow of her own throat. “I have one already.”
“It’s not for you,” Snow admitted. “It’s for Regina.”
Emma sighed and closed her eyes. “You’re that determined to stay the only heir to the throne of Winterlands, huh? So much so that you’re giving its new Queen a pregnancy prevention charm?”
Snow swallowed, whether out of nerves or guilt Emma didn’t know. “It’s not just for me. Think of how Regina would feel, if forced to carry my father’s baby.” A wave of nausea rose in Emma’s throat at the very thought. His spawn, a cruel combination of him and Regina, something to remind her every time she would look at it how he had forced himself on her… it would be a child of marital rape. Neither Regina nor her children would deserve that.
“You know you might conceive now, right?” Emma asked, shoving the charm in her pocket. “Although I suppose it’s win-win for Charming. You stay the only heir to the throne of Winterlands and you’ll have a legitimate child in line for the throne of Neverland.”
Snow smiled, although there was no warmth in it. “I knew you’d see it our way.”
But then their conversation was interrupted by the smashing of glass. Emma looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the sound. Unfortunately, she found it in the dead centre of the room. Regina stood with a smashed bottle in her hand and a greasy-haired pirate at her feet, looking guilty.
“Shit,” Emma muttered fervently.
She knew from experience that a single act of violence was more than enough to start a bar fight… and that was exactly what the Princess had just accomplished. Emma, momentarily frozen by shock, snapped out of it and vaulted over the table just in time to knock Regina to the ground. A litany of bottles flew over their heads.
Emma punched a suspiciously charming pirate in the face as he reached down a hand to help them up and hauled Regina up onto her knees. Pirates wreaked havoc around them as more glass was smashed and there were many dull thuds of fists hitting flesh.
She pulled the Princess free of the fight and began to race up the stairs, ducking under the flailing arms of a pirate about to lose his balance and trusting Regina to do the same. A nasty-looking lad with lots of tattoos took a swing at her, but Emma dove at his knees and caused him to topple all the way down the stairs.
The Princess nearly overtook her as Emma jogged towards the room the landlady had given her for the night and she unlocked it quickly. “Get in,” she ordered Regina without preamble. “I’ll come and let you out when this all blows over.”
Emma would never know if Regina had argued back, because she shut the door in her face and locked it. Striding back along the corridor, she swerved a man’s foot and socked him in the jaw, watching in satisfaction as he plummeted over the bannister and disappeared in the mob that was forming in the centre of the tavern.
The Captain hopped onto the well-polished bannister of the staircase and slid down into the fray, bashing a pair of thug’s heads together as she dismounted. It took a great deal of persistence and elbows to wade her way through the throng. But when she eventually reached the doorway and wrenched it open, there was nobody there to stop her from leaving.
The air outside the Snake’s Sceptre was cool and a welcome change after the heat of the tavern brawl. Emma flipped up the hood of her coat and blended into the shadows. She had something to investigate, and it would not do well to be accompanied. Not with Regina, not even with Red or Charming.
Not for the first time, she was grateful that Rumplestiltskin’s house was merely a stone’s throw from the tavern. It meant that she could slip out of a bar fight one minute and be facing his heavy wooden door the next. She contemplated it… if Hook had succeeded, and she felt sure that he must have, there would be nobody to answer the door. If Hook had failed, which would be uncharacteristic, but if there was one foe he couldn’t vanquish, it would be Rumplestiltskin… then Emma had the feeling that the magician wouldn’t be very pleased to see her.
Coming to a conclusion, Emma dipped her hand into her coat pocket and brought out an old, worn leather pouch. Selecting from it two lengths of iron, she inserted them into the lock and wiggled them about until she heard the satisfying click of a door successfully unlocked.
Hesitating for a moment, Emma drew her sword from its scabbard. It was always better to be safe than sorry, after all. Pushing the door open, she began to cautiously advance forward down Rumplestiltskin’s corridor. There were no bodies on the floor, no smashed belongings and no signs at all that a confrontation had taken place.
Stepping forward, her foot crunched down on an object… hard and misshapen. She crouched down to inspect it - one solitary iron key. Perplexed, Emma slotted it into the keyhole to the house and was shocked to find that it fit perfectly. But the door had been locked from the outside. But she soon solved the mystery. There was an inch gap between Gold’s door and the ground, easily enough space to slide a key through.
She put it in her coat pocket for safe keeping and continued down the hallway.
“Hello?” She called out softly into the darkness. But it was only the quiet scurrying of mice underneath the floors that replied.
It didn’t take long to do a quick sweep of Rumplestiltskin’s house and shop. It was empty, deserted. Something had obviously happened. But the only things out of place were the key… and one silvery robe, made out of expensive fabric from the Summerlands. Emma had found it on the floor of Gold’s bedroom and several possibilities came to her. Belle had managed to thwart Hook and she and Rumplestiltskin had resumed their relationship before disappearing… wherever. Rumple had employed a whore in Belle’s absence, who had been forced to flee when Hook came calling. Or the magician liked to wear silk robes in his spare time.
Regardless of the reason, it was an oddity. And Emma was keeping it to think over the conundrum some more, she told herself firmly. It was not at all because she thought the rose pink silk would set off Regina’s tan skin perfectly.
She locked the door of Rumplestiltskin’s house carefully behind her and stowed the key back in her pocket as she began to walk back to the tavern. Well, that had been a waste of time. She had learnt nothing that could point to Hook’s success or whereabouts. For a moment, her thumb hovered over her compass tattoo, but she withdrew.
For one thing, if Hook was on Tortuga, she felt certain they would have already reunited. And there was no point in summoning him if he wasn’t on the island, regardless of her mild concern.
No, Hook was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was Regina she had to worry about, she reminded herself. Princess Regina, who had a little under two weeks left to actually live her life. Hook had survived two hundred and eighty five years of adventures. He didn’t need Emma’s concern.
She walked back along the street, scuffing her boots on the gutter. If Rumple had come out on the other side alive, had he taken Henry and Belle with him? For that matter, where were Bae and Henry? Had Aurora looked after Emma’s son as she had said she would?
Just outside the door to the Snake’s Sceptre, Emma paused. She could pursue the trail Hook or Rumplestiltskin had left behind her tonight… but what if it led to nowhere? Or worse, opened up a very complex investigation that would take a lot of time to complete? Emma didn’t really have that sort of time, especially with a captive Princess upstairs and waiting for her. No, she decided. If the whereabouts of her son, Hook, Rumplestiltskin, Belle or even Baelfire were unknown to her when she returned from Port Wordsworth, then she would track them down.
40 days were a long time. But Emma had known people to fall off the grid for longer.
She pushed open the door into the tavern and strode into the welcoming warmth. Mercifully the fight seemed to have abated, although Emma suspected that the many tankards of ale that were being passed around (‘on the house!’ a harried bartender exclaimed) had something to do with that. She grabbed four of the tankards that were being banged down with haste on the bar and jogged up the stairs to where Regina was waiting for her.
Emma shoved the key in the lock, balancing the tankards under her other arm and eventually succeeded, after much cursing, in opening the door. Stepping inside, she was treated to the vision of Regina, reclining on the mattress, leafing through a book and deep in concentration.
Emma didn’t want to disturb her adorable focus, but it seemed inevitable as she shut the door behind her with a click and Regina looked up at her. “Is the brawl over?” She enquired, eyes running up and down Emma’s body to check for injuries.
“Don’t worry,” Emma placated her. “I’m still intact.”
Regina’s eyes travelled to the tankards still stowed under her arm. “And celebrating with ale, I see?”
Emma’s lips quirked as she set the bottles down on the mattress, gesturing for the Princess to take one. She clambered up to the headboard to sit on the pillows with her own tankard and found, to her displeasure, that she was sitting on something hard. Emma fished under her buttocks to find the book Regina had been reading when she had come in. “What does the title say?” She asked curiously, only understanding one or two words. Her reading had come on… but not that well.
“The Split of Nevermore: To What Extent Was Magic Culpable?” Regina told her, hesitantly popping the cork on a tankard of ale and taking a sip.
“Culpable?” Emma’s eyebrows drew together, having never before heard the word.
Regina’s lips pursed. “Deserving of blame. For instance…” she drew Emma’s lips to hers and kissed her the way Emma loved, wet and dirty. “You are culpable for turning me into this.”
“And what is this, exactly?” Emma enquired with an amused smile. She tangled a hand in Regina’s brunette locks, which had become steadily lighter and glossier the more time she had spent out at sea. She brushed her lips across Regina’s gullet, and sucked tan skin into her mouth.
Regina whined, fists clenching in the sheets. “Some sort of loose woman, I think. Before you, I was very tight-laced.”
“You cleaned a brothel for a living.” Emma pointed out as she pushed Regina’s cotton breast bindings down, over her nipples to the bottom of her sternum. She enveloped a dusky peak in her mouth, eliciting a long moan from the Princess’s mouth. One of these days, Emma contemplated as she internally flinched at the noise, she’d have to gag Regina. Lustful sounds really did piss her off.
“No, before that,” Regina told her, breathlessly as Emma’s lips travelled down past her rib cage and over her abdomen. “There was somebody, back in Springlands, whom I loved dearly.”
Emma paused in her oral assault of Regina’s body and looked up at her. She was remembering the adventure in Hollow Lagoon, with the siren. First, the Princess had seen Emma herself. And then she had seen a man… Daniel, she had called him. Emma licked her lips. “Daniel?” She enquired tentatively.
Regina looked puzzled. “How did you -“
“The siren,” Emma explained quickly, hovering over the other girl’s stomach.
“Come up here,” Regina ordered, patting the pillow next to her. “And I’ll tell you exactly why I was so eager to escape the life of royalty.” It was an offer too good to be true, so Emma shimmied back up her lover’s body and sat again by the headboard, taking a swig of ale.
“It started when I turned sixteen,” Regina began, eyes slightly unfocused. “My father bought me a horse for my birthday and he was named Rocinante. And obviously with a new horse, came a new stable boy. His name was Daniel. Anyway, the long and short of it was…” she ran a nervous hand through her hair. “We fell in love and he proposed.”
“Marriage?” Emma asked incredulously. “He proposed marriage to a sixteen-year-old?”
“Actually he proposed on my seventeenth,” Regina admitted. “Anyway, I was quite adamant that we should wait until we were married to… consummate.” She took a swig of ale to fortify herself. “Only my parents signed away my future and suddenly a stable boy was undesirable company for a Princess to keep.”
“They sent him away?” Emma asked sympathetically.
“Do you really think if they had merely sent him away, that I would have run all the way to Neverland? Without him?” Regina asked dryly and Emma shook her head, feeling dread grow in the pit of her belly. “Well first, King Leopold paid us a visit, put a ring on my finger and took any semblance of innocence I had.” The words were said clinically, unemotionally and yet Emma still flinched. “The wedding date was set for three months after Leopold’s first visit. Daniel and I continued to see one another, although it was much, much harder than before. My mother was watching me; I think she suspected there was something else going on. But the first real sign she had that something was wrong was when I missed my monthly bleed.”
Against her will, Emma sucked in a breath. “Oh my Gods, Regina…”
The other girl swallowed. “My mother found out. And she didn’t believe me when I told her what Leopold had done… so she had to find another culprit. She chose Daniel.” Regina smiled wryly. “Ironically, there was no way it could’ve been his.”
“What happened?” Emma asked in a hushed tone, her hand sub-consiously finding Regina’s abdomen where, once, a child had grown.
“She killed him,” Regina stated coolly. Emma wondered if she’d become detached from what had happened in her own mind, or if she had simply had too much time to come to terms with his death. “And she gave me a potion, poison maybe. I miscarried.”
Not knowing what to say, Emma pressed a kiss to Regina’s hair. “Princess, I am -“
“It doesn’t matter,” Regina said brusquely. “I’m sure I’ll have a brood of little Leopolds to replace my baby soon enough.”
Remembering what Snow had given her earlier, Emma fished in her coat pocket, finding the charm was still there. She held it out on her palm to Regina, who took it, looking curious. “What’s this?” She asked wearily, in a tone that belied her supposed indifference to her past.
“A charm to prevent pregnancy,” Emma told her, holding out her own for Regina to see. “They’re very effective.” Without a word more, Regina tied it around her neck.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly, nestling her head in the crook of Emma’s neck. “I don’t know what I’d have done if I… if we conceived a child.”
Emma combed Regina’s hair with her fingers. “Now you never will.”
Characters/Pairing: Emma Swan/Regina Mills, Emma Swan/Captain Hook, Emma Swan/OFC, Snow White/Prince Charming, Belle/Rumplestiltskin, assorted other characters.
Warnings: References to past rape.
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everybody who left such lovely reviews on the last chapter! I, of course, do completely understand negative reviews and welcome them along with positive ones!
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time does not belong to me, nor their characters or plots. The plot of this fanfiction belongs to shikabane-mai, and the artwork she drew can be found: post/46770603575/captain-emma-swan-and-her-former- bounty-mark
Chapter 14
We Lay to Fiddler’s Green!
“Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.” - Haruki Murakami
Emma awoke with an emotion coursing through her veins, almost entirely foreign to her. She searched her memories for this jittery, excitement, this passion, this level of devotion to one singular person and came up short.
The woman lying next to her interrupted her inquisitive thoughts with a loud groan. Regina stretched her arms out above her head and Emma was forced to dodge the limb in order to avoid getting punched. “Woah, there,” she teased, rolling onto her belly and tickling her lover’s sides. “Just because you’re part of the crew now, it doesn’t mean you can start punching the Captain in the face!”
Regina’s eyes shot open and she looked alarmed. “I punched you?” She asked incredulously. “But it’s so early in the morning!”
Emma sniggered as she increased the ferocity of her tickling. Regina squirmed beneath her, and then Emma found herself on her back as the Princess rolled them over. They both laughed at nothing at all, but it was the best kind of laughter. Regina met her lips over and over again, unable to get enough of each other but they couldn’t stop laughing long enough to kiss properly. It was a very pleasant dilemma, indeed.
Eventually, having seemingly tired herself out, Regina flopped off Emma’s body and back onto the bed. “What’s on the agenda today?” She wanted to know, speaking slightly breathlessly.
Emma bit her lip. “Today, we dock in Tortuga.” Next to her, she could feel the Princess freeze up and stiffen on the bed and quickly realised she had never familiarised the girl with the agreement between herself and Queen Cora. “Don’t worry,” she was quick to reassure her lover. “Your mother arranged to meet us at Port Wordsworth. Tortuga’s just a stop on the way.”
Regina visibly relaxed, sinking back down into the bed. “What are we stopping for exactly?”
Aware of exactly how her true purpose in visiting Tortuga would go down with her lover, Emma kept her answer deliberately vague. “Re-supplying mostly, but after over a month I think my crew are getting cabin fever.”
Regina narrowed her eyes at the Captain, but before she could call her out there was a sound from outside the sheet Emma had used to replace her destroyed door. “Captain?” Charming enquired, sounding hesitant. “Are you decent?”
“Sure,” Emma replied easily, just as Regina hit her on the arm and burrowed down underneath the covers. She was entirely covered by a blanket when Charming entered the room.
He looked discomfited, with every reason. Emma was sitting up against the headboard, naked with only a sheet to protect her modesty, whilst there was obviously a human-shaped lump in the covers next to her. “Snow and I would like to talk to you… before we dock in Tortuga.”
“About?” Emma asked sharply, having been awaiting this particular talk ever since she had eavesdropped on her parents’ argument the other night.
He bit his lip, clearly not walking to say in front of Regina. Emma sighed. “Fine,” she agreed. Normally she wouldn’t have hesitated to say ‘yes’, a good Captain kept in communication with his Quartermaster and Boatswain after all, but she wanted to avoid this talk more than anything.
“How far until Tortuga?” Emma enquired, just as Charming was backing up towards the door.
“Not sighted yet,” her father muttered, then darted through the sheet and back up the stairs. Emma couldn’t contain a chuckle as she swung her legs off the bedspread. After all the time they’d known each other, she would’ve thought her father would have been well-used to her nudity, drinking, assorted bed partners… etc.
“Is he gone?” Regina asked sleepily, wriggling from under the covers to regard Emma with doleful eyes.
“Yeah,” Emma confirmed, tugging her breeches up her calves. “But I have to go and talk to him, rather than…” she leant across the bed and pecked Regina’s full lips. “Doing that all day. As much as I want to.”
Regina’s eyes followed her as she pulled her linen shirt down over her head. “Is this what you’ve been worrying about all week?”
Her question caused Emma to frown. Was she so transparent to her Princess now? “Yes, but how’d you -“
“When you’re worried,” Regina told her. “You tap your knee with your right hand. Always.”
“Huh,” Emma paused contemplatively, tying her sash around her middle. “I’ve been worried because my dearest father is about to make a very stupid mistake indeed and he’s going to ask my help to do it.”
“Will you?” Regina quizzed her, as Emma shrugged on her coat.
The Captain paused on her way to the sheet-that-passed-as-a-door, looking back at her lover. The girl was propped up on one elbow and her right breast was bared to the cool air, though she seemingly hadn’t noticed. Her sleek brunette hair fell around her naturally inquisitive face and brown eyes stared soulfully up at her. It was a picture no man could ever deny. Or woman.
“I have a soft spot for foolish endeavours,” Emma admitted, before ducking round the sheet and jogging up on deck.
It was another busy, bustling morning on board The Bloody Blade. Geppetto had recently decided that the Quarterdeck stairs had sustained too much damage in the battle with the Nevic Navy to be repaired, and so he was going to replace them entirely. Emma would have no problem with that normally, but he had employed half of the crew to do the muscle work and she had to dock the ship in port later on.
“Captain!” Geppetto hailed her as she stood, observing the sweaty tendrils of Red’s hair and Grumpy’s straining biceps. “Come to assist?”
“Later,” she promised her Master Carpenter. “Snow and I need to hack out re-supplying details.” As suspected, when hearing the prospect of such a tedious meeting, Geppetto waved her off with a grimace.
Emma descended the steps to forecastle, ducking under the first line of hammocks to find Snow and Charming sitting on the bed in their cabin. The former couldn’t meet her eyes. The latter didn’t even try.
“What’s going on?” She asked from the doorway, reluctant to step inside. For days now, ever since she had overheard their argument on deck, she had gone out of her way to avoid them and this conversation. Part of her, although she had heard much worse, resented her supposed parents for their implication that she was an unfit mother. She knew that much, goddamnit. But she didn’t think either of them had the right to call her up on it, considering Charming had abandoned her as a baby and Snow had never had a biological child of her own.
“Captain,” Snow started, reverting to her formal address from… nerves? “Your father has a proposition for you.”
“Yes?” Emma raised her eyebrows, directing her gaze towards Charming.
“I… well - we,” Charming sputtered for a few seconds, before seemingly pulling himself together and, finally, meeting Emma’s eyes. “I want to invade Neverland.”
Sighing, Emma walked over to him and flopped down on the bed. “I can’t believe I left my very naked, very beautiful Princess behind for this,” she complained, rubbing her hands over her eyes.
Snow grimaced. “Will you at least listen to what he has to say?”
“No need,” Emma pointed out. “Charming misses the life of royalty, but can’t go back since he looted daddy’s coffers and got disinherited. Luckily for him, daddy is a shitty ruler, so the peasants aren’t very happy with him. So if the Prodigal Son returns to overthrow the King and form his own court, nobody will complain very much…”
Charming opened his mouth but Emma held up a hand to forestall his rant of objection. “If you’re about to give an impassioned speech on how crap the Nevic peasants are treated, then you’re preaching to the choir. I’ve seen a hell of a lot more of it than you have.” She sighed. “But, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, the right course isn’t always the most violent one.”
Her father looked at her and exhaled. “What would you suggest?”
Before she answered, Emma got up from the bed and shut the door behind her, locking it tight. She didn’t want anybody lying around in a hammock overhearing this.
It was noon before Sneezy, armed with a telescope and many tissues, first sighted Tortuga on the horizon.
Tortuga was merely a speck but Emma shivered with anticipation as she spooned pickled grapes out of a can and into her mouth. That was the problem with long sailing voyages - food. Anything fresh spoiled in the first week and then you had salted meats and the like. But it wasn’t long before even that went off and you were stuck with - Emma looked down into her can and shuddered - pickled substances.
She had taken over the wheel from Bashful almost as soon as she had come up on deck, ordering him politely to help out with Geppetto’s operation… which was still in progress. The first three new steps had been nailed firmly to the ship, but the remaining four were still in scattered pieces across the deck. As she watched, Red raised a hammer and brought it down hard with a loud bang, driving another nail into the wood.
“Good! That’s good!” Geppetto praised in an accent she thought originated in the Dragon Keys, but couldn’t be quite sure.
Charming emerged from the forecastle and Emma watched him go over to Geppetto, tugging off his linen shirt all the while to reveal sturdy biceps and firm abs. Even from Emma’s clinical perspective, he was a fine specimen of manhood and she couldn’t help but be a little bit proud of her genetics.
“Yours are better,” said a voice from behind her as a lean, feminine body molded itself against her.
“Princess Regina,” Emma scolded. “You’re becoming most brazen! And what am I better at now?”
Regina laughed, long and low. “Your abdominal muscles.” Her tan hand crept under Emma’s linen shirt and splayed fingers over the twitching muscles there. “Better than Charming’s.”
“I should hope so!” Emma exclaimed in mock outrage. “It’d be a little sad if the father was in better shape than the daughter.”
Regina laughed again and detached herself from Emma, snatching the can of pickled grapes from her hand and using her finger to clean out the inside. The Captain watched her with something approaching awe. “You’re becoming part of the crew, my dear girl. Whatever happened to using the proper cutlery?”
“I’ll be using proper cutlery for the rest of my life,” Regina pointed out. “Might as well make the most of my fingers whilst I still can.”
Emma chuckled. “Make the most of them in me and I promise to reward you.”
“Deal,” Regina brought their lips together and nipped down, before joining the carpentry crew and commandeering a hammer for herself. Emma touched a finger to her lips, where she had a little indent from the Princess’s teeth. Odd, she thought to herself.
And she continued to think so the rest of the afternoon as she steered the ship towards Tortuga. Regina got involved with banging nails and positioning wood, even at one point, to Emma’s delight, removing most of her layers besides her shirt and breeches.
As evening drew in on the Blade, Emma was loathe to pull the merry-making crew from their task, but they would be soon docking and she needed all hands on deck to make port. So it was with reluctance that she opened her mouth to begin bellowing.
“ALL HANDS ON DECK!” She yelled and was sad to see the crew disperse to their stations, some even taking their tankards of rum with them. Lines were untied and sails hoisted as Emma slowly guided the ship into the docks. Bashful took a leap onto the pier and tied off the first line, followed by Happy, then Sleepy.
“LOWER THE ANCHOR!” Emma bellowed and with a loud splash, knew that her instructions had been followed. The ship was well and securely docked and the gangplank went down with a clatter. Emma sighed in relief - cabin fever wasn’t just for the crew - and strode off towards the Port… forgetting for the moment…
“Wait!” Regina called from behind her and Emma closed her eyes. Recent breaches of etiquette or no, she knew with absolute certainty the Princess wouldn’t be able to handle Tortuga. The drinking, the dice games, the whores… well, maybe having worked in a brothel - she’d be able to handle the whores.
Still, it looked like her regular trip to Blue’s was out this time.
“Come on then,” Emma said resignedly, holding out her arm for Regina to take. Just as long as the Princess didn’t mind helping her to interview potential new crew members.
Unlike at night, Tortuga during the day was a tired old place. Long unemployed beggars roamed the streets while dodgy merchants did their business. Thankfully now the evening reigned and pirates that had been abed all day crept out from their hovels.
Emma had a quiet word with the bartender of The Snake’s Sceptre, her old haunt, and reserved both a room for the evening and a booth in which to recruit new crew members. Regina didn’t look quite as out of place as Emma had feared she would; perhaps those five years cleaning a brothel had come in handy after all.
“Go and have a word with some of them,” she quietly directed Red, Charming and Grumpy… indicating all the beefy, intimidating pirates hanging around the tavern. Next to her, Snow’s fingers were interlaced as she tapped impatiently on the wooden table whilst on her other side, Regina stared deeply into her rum tankard.
Emma had been hesitant to buy the Princess a drink, knowing what her feelings had been on drinking previously. But what the Captain had predicted had come to pass; Regina had lost her son… the only remaining question was had she lost her morals along with him?
“Are we going to find Belle?” Regina murmured, as Emma spied the first potential crew member of the night making their way over.
“If she’s still here,” Emma commented. “She’ll have been keeping an eye out for our docking and will be able to find us soon enough.”
Regina didn’t speak for a long time after that. Emma talked with many men and a few women, judging their sea-faring and sword-fighting abilities casually. In truth, recruitment was more about instinct and a quick background check than anything else. If Emma didn’t like the look of a man’s face - he was rejected. If she appreciated the muscles in another’s upper arm - he was accepted.
“Another?” Emma asked her Princess between pirates, noticing she had emptied her tankard.
“I’ll get it,” she replied, untying Emma’s purse from her belt with one hand and pivoting herself over the table to get out from the corner in which she had wedged herself.
Snow grimaced. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re in a lot of trouble with that one, Emma.”
“You’re in a lot of trouble with this whole overthrowing-the-Nevic-monarchy business,” Emma pointed out to her step-mother. “At least I’m getting laid.”
Snow sighed. Then she reached behind her neck to unfasten the leather chord that was always tied around her throat like a necklace, its silver charm dangling in her clavicle. “I want you to take this.” She dropped it into Emma’s outstretched palm.
Her step-daughter looked at her with uncomprehending eyes. “This is your charm. The one that prevents pregnancy.” She lifted the one that lay in the hollow of her own throat. “I have one already.”
“It’s not for you,” Snow admitted. “It’s for Regina.”
Emma sighed and closed her eyes. “You’re that determined to stay the only heir to the throne of Winterlands, huh? So much so that you’re giving its new Queen a pregnancy prevention charm?”
Snow swallowed, whether out of nerves or guilt Emma didn’t know. “It’s not just for me. Think of how Regina would feel, if forced to carry my father’s baby.” A wave of nausea rose in Emma’s throat at the very thought. His spawn, a cruel combination of him and Regina, something to remind her every time she would look at it how he had forced himself on her… it would be a child of marital rape. Neither Regina nor her children would deserve that.
“You know you might conceive now, right?” Emma asked, shoving the charm in her pocket. “Although I suppose it’s win-win for Charming. You stay the only heir to the throne of Winterlands and you’ll have a legitimate child in line for the throne of Neverland.”
Snow smiled, although there was no warmth in it. “I knew you’d see it our way.”
But then their conversation was interrupted by the smashing of glass. Emma looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the sound. Unfortunately, she found it in the dead centre of the room. Regina stood with a smashed bottle in her hand and a greasy-haired pirate at her feet, looking guilty.
“Shit,” Emma muttered fervently.
She knew from experience that a single act of violence was more than enough to start a bar fight… and that was exactly what the Princess had just accomplished. Emma, momentarily frozen by shock, snapped out of it and vaulted over the table just in time to knock Regina to the ground. A litany of bottles flew over their heads.
Emma punched a suspiciously charming pirate in the face as he reached down a hand to help them up and hauled Regina up onto her knees. Pirates wreaked havoc around them as more glass was smashed and there were many dull thuds of fists hitting flesh.
She pulled the Princess free of the fight and began to race up the stairs, ducking under the flailing arms of a pirate about to lose his balance and trusting Regina to do the same. A nasty-looking lad with lots of tattoos took a swing at her, but Emma dove at his knees and caused him to topple all the way down the stairs.
The Princess nearly overtook her as Emma jogged towards the room the landlady had given her for the night and she unlocked it quickly. “Get in,” she ordered Regina without preamble. “I’ll come and let you out when this all blows over.”
Emma would never know if Regina had argued back, because she shut the door in her face and locked it. Striding back along the corridor, she swerved a man’s foot and socked him in the jaw, watching in satisfaction as he plummeted over the bannister and disappeared in the mob that was forming in the centre of the tavern.
The Captain hopped onto the well-polished bannister of the staircase and slid down into the fray, bashing a pair of thug’s heads together as she dismounted. It took a great deal of persistence and elbows to wade her way through the throng. But when she eventually reached the doorway and wrenched it open, there was nobody there to stop her from leaving.
The air outside the Snake’s Sceptre was cool and a welcome change after the heat of the tavern brawl. Emma flipped up the hood of her coat and blended into the shadows. She had something to investigate, and it would not do well to be accompanied. Not with Regina, not even with Red or Charming.
Not for the first time, she was grateful that Rumplestiltskin’s house was merely a stone’s throw from the tavern. It meant that she could slip out of a bar fight one minute and be facing his heavy wooden door the next. She contemplated it… if Hook had succeeded, and she felt sure that he must have, there would be nobody to answer the door. If Hook had failed, which would be uncharacteristic, but if there was one foe he couldn’t vanquish, it would be Rumplestiltskin… then Emma had the feeling that the magician wouldn’t be very pleased to see her.
Coming to a conclusion, Emma dipped her hand into her coat pocket and brought out an old, worn leather pouch. Selecting from it two lengths of iron, she inserted them into the lock and wiggled them about until she heard the satisfying click of a door successfully unlocked.
Hesitating for a moment, Emma drew her sword from its scabbard. It was always better to be safe than sorry, after all. Pushing the door open, she began to cautiously advance forward down Rumplestiltskin’s corridor. There were no bodies on the floor, no smashed belongings and no signs at all that a confrontation had taken place.
Stepping forward, her foot crunched down on an object… hard and misshapen. She crouched down to inspect it - one solitary iron key. Perplexed, Emma slotted it into the keyhole to the house and was shocked to find that it fit perfectly. But the door had been locked from the outside. But she soon solved the mystery. There was an inch gap between Gold’s door and the ground, easily enough space to slide a key through.
She put it in her coat pocket for safe keeping and continued down the hallway.
“Hello?” She called out softly into the darkness. But it was only the quiet scurrying of mice underneath the floors that replied.
It didn’t take long to do a quick sweep of Rumplestiltskin’s house and shop. It was empty, deserted. Something had obviously happened. But the only things out of place were the key… and one silvery robe, made out of expensive fabric from the Summerlands. Emma had found it on the floor of Gold’s bedroom and several possibilities came to her. Belle had managed to thwart Hook and she and Rumplestiltskin had resumed their relationship before disappearing… wherever. Rumple had employed a whore in Belle’s absence, who had been forced to flee when Hook came calling. Or the magician liked to wear silk robes in his spare time.
Regardless of the reason, it was an oddity. And Emma was keeping it to think over the conundrum some more, she told herself firmly. It was not at all because she thought the rose pink silk would set off Regina’s tan skin perfectly.
She locked the door of Rumplestiltskin’s house carefully behind her and stowed the key back in her pocket as she began to walk back to the tavern. Well, that had been a waste of time. She had learnt nothing that could point to Hook’s success or whereabouts. For a moment, her thumb hovered over her compass tattoo, but she withdrew.
For one thing, if Hook was on Tortuga, she felt certain they would have already reunited. And there was no point in summoning him if he wasn’t on the island, regardless of her mild concern.
No, Hook was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was Regina she had to worry about, she reminded herself. Princess Regina, who had a little under two weeks left to actually live her life. Hook had survived two hundred and eighty five years of adventures. He didn’t need Emma’s concern.
She walked back along the street, scuffing her boots on the gutter. If Rumple had come out on the other side alive, had he taken Henry and Belle with him? For that matter, where were Bae and Henry? Had Aurora looked after Emma’s son as she had said she would?
Just outside the door to the Snake’s Sceptre, Emma paused. She could pursue the trail Hook or Rumplestiltskin had left behind her tonight… but what if it led to nowhere? Or worse, opened up a very complex investigation that would take a lot of time to complete? Emma didn’t really have that sort of time, especially with a captive Princess upstairs and waiting for her. No, she decided. If the whereabouts of her son, Hook, Rumplestiltskin, Belle or even Baelfire were unknown to her when she returned from Port Wordsworth, then she would track them down.
40 days were a long time. But Emma had known people to fall off the grid for longer.
She pushed open the door into the tavern and strode into the welcoming warmth. Mercifully the fight seemed to have abated, although Emma suspected that the many tankards of ale that were being passed around (‘on the house!’ a harried bartender exclaimed) had something to do with that. She grabbed four of the tankards that were being banged down with haste on the bar and jogged up the stairs to where Regina was waiting for her.
Emma shoved the key in the lock, balancing the tankards under her other arm and eventually succeeded, after much cursing, in opening the door. Stepping inside, she was treated to the vision of Regina, reclining on the mattress, leafing through a book and deep in concentration.
Emma didn’t want to disturb her adorable focus, but it seemed inevitable as she shut the door behind her with a click and Regina looked up at her. “Is the brawl over?” She enquired, eyes running up and down Emma’s body to check for injuries.
“Don’t worry,” Emma placated her. “I’m still intact.”
Regina’s eyes travelled to the tankards still stowed under her arm. “And celebrating with ale, I see?”
Emma’s lips quirked as she set the bottles down on the mattress, gesturing for the Princess to take one. She clambered up to the headboard to sit on the pillows with her own tankard and found, to her displeasure, that she was sitting on something hard. Emma fished under her buttocks to find the book Regina had been reading when she had come in. “What does the title say?” She asked curiously, only understanding one or two words. Her reading had come on… but not that well.
“The Split of Nevermore: To What Extent Was Magic Culpable?” Regina told her, hesitantly popping the cork on a tankard of ale and taking a sip.
“Culpable?” Emma’s eyebrows drew together, having never before heard the word.
Regina’s lips pursed. “Deserving of blame. For instance…” she drew Emma’s lips to hers and kissed her the way Emma loved, wet and dirty. “You are culpable for turning me into this.”
“And what is this, exactly?” Emma enquired with an amused smile. She tangled a hand in Regina’s brunette locks, which had become steadily lighter and glossier the more time she had spent out at sea. She brushed her lips across Regina’s gullet, and sucked tan skin into her mouth.
Regina whined, fists clenching in the sheets. “Some sort of loose woman, I think. Before you, I was very tight-laced.”
“You cleaned a brothel for a living.” Emma pointed out as she pushed Regina’s cotton breast bindings down, over her nipples to the bottom of her sternum. She enveloped a dusky peak in her mouth, eliciting a long moan from the Princess’s mouth. One of these days, Emma contemplated as she internally flinched at the noise, she’d have to gag Regina. Lustful sounds really did piss her off.
“No, before that,” Regina told her, breathlessly as Emma’s lips travelled down past her rib cage and over her abdomen. “There was somebody, back in Springlands, whom I loved dearly.”
Emma paused in her oral assault of Regina’s body and looked up at her. She was remembering the adventure in Hollow Lagoon, with the siren. First, the Princess had seen Emma herself. And then she had seen a man… Daniel, she had called him. Emma licked her lips. “Daniel?” She enquired tentatively.
Regina looked puzzled. “How did you -“
“The siren,” Emma explained quickly, hovering over the other girl’s stomach.
“Come up here,” Regina ordered, patting the pillow next to her. “And I’ll tell you exactly why I was so eager to escape the life of royalty.” It was an offer too good to be true, so Emma shimmied back up her lover’s body and sat again by the headboard, taking a swig of ale.
“It started when I turned sixteen,” Regina began, eyes slightly unfocused. “My father bought me a horse for my birthday and he was named Rocinante. And obviously with a new horse, came a new stable boy. His name was Daniel. Anyway, the long and short of it was…” she ran a nervous hand through her hair. “We fell in love and he proposed.”
“Marriage?” Emma asked incredulously. “He proposed marriage to a sixteen-year-old?”
“Actually he proposed on my seventeenth,” Regina admitted. “Anyway, I was quite adamant that we should wait until we were married to… consummate.” She took a swig of ale to fortify herself. “Only my parents signed away my future and suddenly a stable boy was undesirable company for a Princess to keep.”
“They sent him away?” Emma asked sympathetically.
“Do you really think if they had merely sent him away, that I would have run all the way to Neverland? Without him?” Regina asked dryly and Emma shook her head, feeling dread grow in the pit of her belly. “Well first, King Leopold paid us a visit, put a ring on my finger and took any semblance of innocence I had.” The words were said clinically, unemotionally and yet Emma still flinched. “The wedding date was set for three months after Leopold’s first visit. Daniel and I continued to see one another, although it was much, much harder than before. My mother was watching me; I think she suspected there was something else going on. But the first real sign she had that something was wrong was when I missed my monthly bleed.”
Against her will, Emma sucked in a breath. “Oh my Gods, Regina…”
The other girl swallowed. “My mother found out. And she didn’t believe me when I told her what Leopold had done… so she had to find another culprit. She chose Daniel.” Regina smiled wryly. “Ironically, there was no way it could’ve been his.”
“What happened?” Emma asked in a hushed tone, her hand sub-consiously finding Regina’s abdomen where, once, a child had grown.
“She killed him,” Regina stated coolly. Emma wondered if she’d become detached from what had happened in her own mind, or if she had simply had too much time to come to terms with his death. “And she gave me a potion, poison maybe. I miscarried.”
Not knowing what to say, Emma pressed a kiss to Regina’s hair. “Princess, I am -“
“It doesn’t matter,” Regina said brusquely. “I’m sure I’ll have a brood of little Leopolds to replace my baby soon enough.”
Remembering what Snow had given her earlier, Emma fished in her coat pocket, finding the charm was still there. She held it out on her palm to Regina, who took it, looking curious. “What’s this?” She asked wearily, in a tone that belied her supposed indifference to her past.
“A charm to prevent pregnancy,” Emma told her, holding out her own for Regina to see. “They’re very effective.” Without a word more, Regina tied it around her neck.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly, nestling her head in the crook of Emma’s neck. “I don’t know what I’d have done if I… if we conceived a child.”
Emma combed Regina’s hair with her fingers. “Now you never will.”