A Queen Without Power (Once Upon a Time; Regina/Emma)
TITLE: A Queen Without Power
CHAPTER 18: Abdication
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: Season one (in its entirety)
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Regina gave a sideways smirk, and even in the dark her smile was brilliant. She rolled onto her stomach, the sheet falling to her hips, and Emma took a moment to appreciate the fine curve of her bare back as she bunched the pillow beneath herself.
*****
Emma awoke with a start, clutching her heart as it thudded wildly. She had broken out in a light sweat, and the chilly night time breeze coming in through the window made her feel clammy. She swallowed, hard, trying to get her breathing to return to normal.
Another one... though this time, the images were vivid enough to stick.
Wings flapping, though they did not belong to a bird. Endless amounts of fire and ash, and yet, somehow, inexplicably... ice. So much ice. She saw a fist pounding on the ice, trying to break free. A lake? Someone trapped under a lake.
There were flashes of Regina, crying; and then Henry, shouting for her. Finally a high-pitched cackle and she was jerked awake.
And now here she sat, heart still slamming in her chest and skin clammy from the breeze. Her breathing was shallow and erratic; she was trying to find a rhythm but one wasn’t making itself known.
Beside her, the sheets rustled. The mattress dipped and shifted. And then soft kisses trailed across her bare shoulder blade. “What’s the matter?”
Emma let out her breath, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into reality, to find her footing. She shook her head, eyes still closed as she exhaled, “Just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep, it’s late.”
She felt Regina’s smirk pressed to her shoulder. “Early,” she corrected.
“Whatever,” she chuckled quietly. She patted the hand that wound around her, fingers splaying against her stomach. She laced her fingers with Regina and allowed the rest of her body to calm, despite parts of it still tingling from earlier.
What had happened between the two of them, she couldn’t describe. It was a first for her, certainly. Of course she’d kissed other women before. Emma Swan was no stranger to ‘Truth or Dare,’ and she had always viewed the ‘Truth’ option as a cop-out. But this... this was something completely different.
This was a culmination of months-worth of tension and cat-fights; the one-upmanship and figurative chess match. It was an explosion of every glare, every facetious smile or fluttering of the lashes, every leg-cross and lip-purse and indulgent smirk. It was as if this ball of energy, of star matter, had been building between them for months; growing warmer and warmer and spinning and shifting and rotating, until it burst wide open and created a supernova.
Lips and tongues had battled. The sheets rumpled in their war, every nerve ending a casualty. Fingers tangled in curls and in layers of thickness, eyelashes kissing soft cheeks and noses bumping as they continued to spar. Nails left behind pink, raised battle wounds and lips grew chapped and swollen from the occasional bite.
It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It was sex on a higher level; it was a consummation of their months-long foreplay.
“Lie down,” Regina murmured and Emma followed her instruction, settling back against the pillows and looking up at her.
The former queen gave her a smile, one that Emma couldn’t help but return, as she stretched out on her side and leaned in for a kiss.
All traces of scotch were gone from Regina’s lips. Left behind was just, simply... her. “Tell me your dream,” she whispered when she pulled away, hands templing under her cheek as she nestled against the adjacent pillow.
Emma sighed, drawing the sheet up to her collarbone and folding her arms over her stomach. “I wish I could, in a way that would make sense. But...” She frowned. “It doesn’t even make sense to me.”
“Try.”
And try she did. She told Regina about the fire and ice, about the cackle and the sword and her brief appearance as well as Henry’s. By the time she was finished, she had no more clarity over the events than she did to begin with. And Regina, meanwhile, was frowning at her in confusion.
“You’re right, that makes no sense.”
Emma couldn’t help the chuckle, clapping a hand over her eyes and saying tiredly, “I tried to warn you.”
Regina gave a sideways smirk, and even in the dark her smile was brilliant. She rolled onto her stomach, the sheet falling to her hips, and Emma took a moment to appreciate the fine curve of her bare back as she bunched the pillow beneath herself. She caught her staring but merely smiled wider, dipping her head and tucking a slice of hair behind her ear.
“Are you worried about the dream?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, frowning up at the ceiling. “I mean... I feel like I should be, but I don’t really have a lot to go on. And I mean,” she shrugged, lifting a hand briefly before she let it fall to the mattress. “It’s not like just because I’ve got magical powers I can somehow see the future or anything. That’d be a little weird.”
“True, but magic is unpredictable here, Emma. And you’re the product of magic yourself. Even I don’t know what you could be capable of, and your abilities came directly from me.”
She shrugged facially at that; she had a point. “So, I could be like a... soothsayer or something?”
Regina quirked a brow, turning on her side once more, elbow on the pillow. “Well... you tell me.”
Emma watched as Regina ran one finger down her arm. “What do you see happening in the next hour or so?”
She smirked, flirting back, “Terrible, terrible things,” while dragging Regina on top of her.
**
The sun was blaring through the open window the next time she woke up, and she found herself in an empty bedroom. A steaming mug of hazelnut coffee awaited her, and she sipped at it as she dressed.
Silver-on-ceramic percussion reached her ears when she left the master bedroom, followed by Regina’s swift scolding of Henry’s breakfast manners. She heard Henry’s soft apology followed by lighter tapping. After a not-so-subtle throat-clearing from Regina, then, all noise stopped. Emma couldn’t help the smirk as she made her way toward the dining room with her cup of coffee.
“Morning,” she called.
Henry greeted her brightly, completely missing the coy look Regina shot her over her own mug of coffee. “Good morning,” she greeted, her lips upturned ever-so-slightly as she set the mug on the table.
Emma took a seat beside her son, grabbing for the basket of bagels in the center of the dark-polished table and ripping into it. She had just bit into a rather large chunk when Regina cleared her throat once more, drawing her attention.
“What?” she asked around the food, a smirk toying with her lips. She knew exactly what had Regina perturbed.
Predictably, one perfectly-manicured brow arched sharply, her elbow propped on the table with her coffee mug near her lips. “Were you raised in a barn, Miss Swan?”
Henry giggled and Emma rolled her eyes, sighing, “I’ll get a plate.” Subtly, without her son seeing, she flicked the queen’s hair flirtatiously as she passed.
“Can I be done?” Henry asked, legs swinging under the table. “I wanna go pick apples.”
Regina furrowed her brows at that. “Pick apples?”
He nodded. “They’re all over the lawn. I saw a bunch of them fly off and hit the side of the house last night.”
Emma spluttered on the sip of coffee she’d been taking. “What?”
He looked between the two of them in surprise. “You mean you didn’t hear it? Man, you guys must have been sleeping real hard!”
The two women flushed in unison, eyes meeting and then averting quickly. “Yes, we must have been very tired,” Regina covered.
They followed Henry out to the back yard, where dozens of apples were strewn about, several of them smashed on the patio. The siding on the estate was dented in various places, deeply.
“There’s no way throwing an apple could do that much damage.” Emma shook her head, bending to pick one up.
Regina scooped up one of the apples still intact, surmising, “Unless it wasn’t thrown.” Straightening up, she spun on her heel to face her son. “You said you saw this happen last night?”
He nodded.
“Did you see anybody in the yard?”
“No! They just flew off. Like magic.”
Emma met eyes with her again, just a sideways glance without a turn of the head, before looking back at her son. “Why didn’t you come and get us?”
Henry shrugged. “I figured you guys saw it. I thought you were going to come to get me, so I went to lay down to wait for you. I must’ve fallen asleep again before anything else happened.”
Regina lifted her eyes and Emma read the look in them clearly. She looked down at the deck beneath her feet. “We should clean this up.”
“No! Let’s make cider!” Henry reached down for some of the unblemished apples.
“No!”
Regina’s exclamation had been loud, forceful... laced with a bit of fear. Her hand was outstretched toward the boy to stop him but not quite touching. “Don’t touch them, they could be dangerous.”
Emma quickly dropped the one she’d been holding, wiping her hand on her jeans.
Regina threw her a look. “We can touch them, I just don’t want him touching them.”
“Oh.”
Henry made a face, squinty and contemplative, up at Regina. “Maybe I should have some magic too.”
She patted his head, lips set in a stern expression. “Maybe you should keep dreaming.” She nudged him toward the back door. “Go inside and gather up your dirty laundry, please. I’ll be doing the wash later.”
“How come I don’t get to help with this magic stuff?” he pouted, heading inside. His voice began to trail off as he rounded the corner, “I figured all this stuff out way before you guys did...”
Regina rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her son while Emma smirked. Then, she waved a hand, causing all the fallen apples to vanish in an instant.
Emma sighed. “Well, he’s apparently getting a little bit more adventurous with the messages he sends.”
“He’s getting ready to do something,” she murmured, pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips, “I can feel it. He’s not going to sit idly by much longer.”
“So what do we do?”
Regina stopped her pacing and met Emma’s eyes. “We need to send him a message of our own.”
*****
The prince and princess came by as promised in the early afternoon to go over a game-plan for their visit to the pawn shop. But Regina had a last-minute game change she wanted to speak to Snow White about. Emma had asked her a few times throughout the day what she was plotting, but she remained quiet and introspective.
Once they had arrived, Henry was sent up to his room against his chagrin, the only explanation being that the adults needed to talk.
Regina seized her former stepdaughter’s elbow, and Emma watched panic light Snow’s eyes. “If I could speak with you privately for a moment,” Regina intoned, softly but definitively.
Snow looked back at her husband. “James?”
“One-on-one if you don’t mind.” Off the looks she was receiving, Regina sighed and let go of Snow’s arm. “It’s of the utmost importance. Please.”
James nodded his assent and Regina led Snow out the back door, leaving Emma alone with her father. “Do you have any idea what that’s about?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the two of them, visible just outside the kitchen window.
Emma shook her head. “I really, really don’t. Wish I did, though.”
They stood together at the sink, looking out the window onto the patio. Snow and Regina were standing close together, Regina doing most of the talking. Snow White went through several facial expressions, the first of which was defiance. Whatever Regina was suggesting, she clearly was going to instinctively reject it.
Then, a furrowed-brow expression took over as she listened intently to whatever was being said. Emma watched her take in a deep breath and sigh it out, her shoulders moving with her as she did so. Regina remained talking the entire time, occasionally throwing a furtive glance around them -- probably on the lookout for prying eyes and/or ears.
“She won’t hurt her,” Emma heard herself saying.
Her father looked over at her. “You have faith in her. You trust her implicitly now, don’t you?”
Emma swallowed as inaudibly as she could, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” she replied after a moment, still not taking her eyes off the activity beyond the window.
She still felt him studying her. Another moment passed before he asked, “What changed?”
In a split-second, her mind’s eye glanced over the last twenty-four hours: the look in Regina’s eyes as she lifted her shirt to heal her rib; the sound of her scream when she’d been about to fall. The stare that passed between them when they finally had a grip on each other, dangling in mid-air, before their foreheads met. And then the taste of her lips, her skin, her very being.
“Everything,” she finally answered.
Emma felt her father throw one last furtive glance in her direction before turning to look outside again.
Now Regina stepped closer to Snow, telling her to do something. Snow nodded and when Regina reached out with both hands, she clasped them. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat, and the back of her mind threw up a dim warning that she still could try something.
A purple smoke engulfed them and James called to his wife through the closed window. “Snow!”
Emma grabbed his arm, digging her nails in. “She’s fine,” she assured him, despite not being one-hundred percent certain, herself.
The smoke swirled around the pair, high into the air before it dissipated. When Emma got another look at them she was almost startled. Snow White’s hair was several inches longer. It tumbled far past her shoulders in rich brown curls, and she wore a long white gown with a cloak around her shoulders of the palest blue. Her former self?
Regina’s attire was much on the other end of the spectrum. A long, flowing black gown that hugged her every curve until it flared just past the knee. Her hair was spun up and the top of her gown boasted a high collar at the back. She held an ornate silver box in her hands, passing it to Snow White.
Snow took it from her and hugged it to her body, turning it so she could reach the clasp that held it closed. She opened the box and her eyes widened; she snapped it closed and looked up at Regina. What she asked her was indecipherable, but Regina nodded in response to whatever it was, and then she bent into a genuflect, lowering her head.
Emma watched her mother as she stared at Regina with wide, surprised eyes, some other emotion visible but not yet readable. She blinked several times, looking down at the silver box and again at Regina before the purple smoke swirled around them once more. When it was gone, they were clothed normally, Regina still on one knee while Snow still clutched the ornate box.
Then, Regina stood. She and Snow White exchanged a long glance, before they nodded slowly at one another, some understanding having been reached. Then, they turned to head back inside.
Emma and James spun away from the window, leaving the kitchen to meet them in the back hallway. Emma threw up her hands in a shrug. “What the hell was that?”
Regina merely gave her a slight smile, turning to Snow White. “You know what to do?”
Snow nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.”
James shook his head. “What is that?”
Snow smiled at him. “It’s our secret weapon.” Then, she headed for the door. “Let’s go see if Mr. Gold wants to make a deal.”
All Emma could do was stare at Regina questioningly over her shoulder as she followed her parents out the door.
**
The pawn shop was, predictably, empty when they arrived. The bell over the door tinkled, signaling their entrance. Yet instead of finding the suit-clad ‘Mr. Gold’ behind the counter ogling some new acquisition, instead there was a young, blue-eyed brunette awaiting them.
“Welcome to Mr. Gold’s pawn shop,” she greeted them with a smile, coming out from behind the counter. “Is there something I can help you find?”
Emma stood at the head of their trio, in no mood to play nice. “Where is he?”
The girl’s smile faltered, but the courtesies remained. “M-Mister Gold, himself? Well I apologize, but he’s quite busy at the moment. You see, he’s--”
“Where. Is he,” she ground out through clenched teeth, knowing this was a line of defense for him.
“Do my ears deceive me, or is that the lovely Miss Swan coming out of hiding?” His voice rang out from the back of the store, and soon he had appeared, duplicitous smile already in place. His hands were braced on the door frame and he pushed himself out, no longer walking with a limp. “Ah, well it’s all three of the Charmings! Right here in my humble little shop!”
He stepped out in front of the young girl, hand to his stomach as he bowed deeply. “To what do I owe this great honor?”
Emma glared at him. “Cut the crap, Gold. You know why we’re here.”
The smile faded as he straightened up. He turned over his shoulder briefly and said to his counterpart in a matter-of-fact way, “That will be all, Belle.”
Emma watched as the girl threw him a dirty look and headed reluctantly into the back of the shop, leaving them alone.
“What brings you here, Charmings?”
James stepped forward. “We want to make a deal.”
Gold sniffed a laugh, heading behind the counter, and Emma and James followed him. “Well I hate to break it to you dearie, but I’m fresh out of interest in new deals.”
“Oh, I think you’ll make a deal with me.”
The three of them turned to see Snow White, still with a smug air about her. She leaned casually against one of the shelves, holding the silver box to her chest.
Gold tilted his head. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes.” She sauntered up to the counter, as if some of Regina’s attitude had rubbed off on her. “I don’t think it would be wise of you to decline in this case.”
“No? And, uh...” Leaning in, he wrinkled his nose and tipped his chin just slightly, his voice dropping to its trademark whisper as he finished, “Why’s that?”
Emma watched as her mother’s satisfied smile never faltered; she set the silver box on the counter with an unceremonious clunk, unhooking the clasp and opening it for him to see inside.
In the box, nestled in red velvet lining, was a sterling crown. A crown that seemed to render the pawnbroker momentarily speechless.
So Snow White stole the opportunity; she leaned in and answered him in that same whisper... “Because I’m your queen now.”
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}
CHAPTER 18: Abdication
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: Season one (in its entirety)
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Regina gave a sideways smirk, and even in the dark her smile was brilliant. She rolled onto her stomach, the sheet falling to her hips, and Emma took a moment to appreciate the fine curve of her bare back as she bunched the pillow beneath herself.
*****
Emma awoke with a start, clutching her heart as it thudded wildly. She had broken out in a light sweat, and the chilly night time breeze coming in through the window made her feel clammy. She swallowed, hard, trying to get her breathing to return to normal.
Another one... though this time, the images were vivid enough to stick.
Wings flapping, though they did not belong to a bird. Endless amounts of fire and ash, and yet, somehow, inexplicably... ice. So much ice. She saw a fist pounding on the ice, trying to break free. A lake? Someone trapped under a lake.
There were flashes of Regina, crying; and then Henry, shouting for her. Finally a high-pitched cackle and she was jerked awake.
And now here she sat, heart still slamming in her chest and skin clammy from the breeze. Her breathing was shallow and erratic; she was trying to find a rhythm but one wasn’t making itself known.
Beside her, the sheets rustled. The mattress dipped and shifted. And then soft kisses trailed across her bare shoulder blade. “What’s the matter?”
Emma let out her breath, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into reality, to find her footing. She shook her head, eyes still closed as she exhaled, “Just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep, it’s late.”
She felt Regina’s smirk pressed to her shoulder. “Early,” she corrected.
“Whatever,” she chuckled quietly. She patted the hand that wound around her, fingers splaying against her stomach. She laced her fingers with Regina and allowed the rest of her body to calm, despite parts of it still tingling from earlier.
What had happened between the two of them, she couldn’t describe. It was a first for her, certainly. Of course she’d kissed other women before. Emma Swan was no stranger to ‘Truth or Dare,’ and she had always viewed the ‘Truth’ option as a cop-out. But this... this was something completely different.
This was a culmination of months-worth of tension and cat-fights; the one-upmanship and figurative chess match. It was an explosion of every glare, every facetious smile or fluttering of the lashes, every leg-cross and lip-purse and indulgent smirk. It was as if this ball of energy, of star matter, had been building between them for months; growing warmer and warmer and spinning and shifting and rotating, until it burst wide open and created a supernova.
Lips and tongues had battled. The sheets rumpled in their war, every nerve ending a casualty. Fingers tangled in curls and in layers of thickness, eyelashes kissing soft cheeks and noses bumping as they continued to spar. Nails left behind pink, raised battle wounds and lips grew chapped and swollen from the occasional bite.
It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It was sex on a higher level; it was a consummation of their months-long foreplay.
“Lie down,” Regina murmured and Emma followed her instruction, settling back against the pillows and looking up at her.
The former queen gave her a smile, one that Emma couldn’t help but return, as she stretched out on her side and leaned in for a kiss.
All traces of scotch were gone from Regina’s lips. Left behind was just, simply... her. “Tell me your dream,” she whispered when she pulled away, hands templing under her cheek as she nestled against the adjacent pillow.
Emma sighed, drawing the sheet up to her collarbone and folding her arms over her stomach. “I wish I could, in a way that would make sense. But...” She frowned. “It doesn’t even make sense to me.”
“Try.”
And try she did. She told Regina about the fire and ice, about the cackle and the sword and her brief appearance as well as Henry’s. By the time she was finished, she had no more clarity over the events than she did to begin with. And Regina, meanwhile, was frowning at her in confusion.
“You’re right, that makes no sense.”
Emma couldn’t help the chuckle, clapping a hand over her eyes and saying tiredly, “I tried to warn you.”
Regina gave a sideways smirk, and even in the dark her smile was brilliant. She rolled onto her stomach, the sheet falling to her hips, and Emma took a moment to appreciate the fine curve of her bare back as she bunched the pillow beneath herself. She caught her staring but merely smiled wider, dipping her head and tucking a slice of hair behind her ear.
“Are you worried about the dream?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, frowning up at the ceiling. “I mean... I feel like I should be, but I don’t really have a lot to go on. And I mean,” she shrugged, lifting a hand briefly before she let it fall to the mattress. “It’s not like just because I’ve got magical powers I can somehow see the future or anything. That’d be a little weird.”
“True, but magic is unpredictable here, Emma. And you’re the product of magic yourself. Even I don’t know what you could be capable of, and your abilities came directly from me.”
She shrugged facially at that; she had a point. “So, I could be like a... soothsayer or something?”
Regina quirked a brow, turning on her side once more, elbow on the pillow. “Well... you tell me.”
Emma watched as Regina ran one finger down her arm. “What do you see happening in the next hour or so?”
She smirked, flirting back, “Terrible, terrible things,” while dragging Regina on top of her.
**
The sun was blaring through the open window the next time she woke up, and she found herself in an empty bedroom. A steaming mug of hazelnut coffee awaited her, and she sipped at it as she dressed.
Silver-on-ceramic percussion reached her ears when she left the master bedroom, followed by Regina’s swift scolding of Henry’s breakfast manners. She heard Henry’s soft apology followed by lighter tapping. After a not-so-subtle throat-clearing from Regina, then, all noise stopped. Emma couldn’t help the smirk as she made her way toward the dining room with her cup of coffee.
“Morning,” she called.
Henry greeted her brightly, completely missing the coy look Regina shot her over her own mug of coffee. “Good morning,” she greeted, her lips upturned ever-so-slightly as she set the mug on the table.
Emma took a seat beside her son, grabbing for the basket of bagels in the center of the dark-polished table and ripping into it. She had just bit into a rather large chunk when Regina cleared her throat once more, drawing her attention.
“What?” she asked around the food, a smirk toying with her lips. She knew exactly what had Regina perturbed.
Predictably, one perfectly-manicured brow arched sharply, her elbow propped on the table with her coffee mug near her lips. “Were you raised in a barn, Miss Swan?”
Henry giggled and Emma rolled her eyes, sighing, “I’ll get a plate.” Subtly, without her son seeing, she flicked the queen’s hair flirtatiously as she passed.
“Can I be done?” Henry asked, legs swinging under the table. “I wanna go pick apples.”
Regina furrowed her brows at that. “Pick apples?”
He nodded. “They’re all over the lawn. I saw a bunch of them fly off and hit the side of the house last night.”
Emma spluttered on the sip of coffee she’d been taking. “What?”
He looked between the two of them in surprise. “You mean you didn’t hear it? Man, you guys must have been sleeping real hard!”
The two women flushed in unison, eyes meeting and then averting quickly. “Yes, we must have been very tired,” Regina covered.
They followed Henry out to the back yard, where dozens of apples were strewn about, several of them smashed on the patio. The siding on the estate was dented in various places, deeply.
“There’s no way throwing an apple could do that much damage.” Emma shook her head, bending to pick one up.
Regina scooped up one of the apples still intact, surmising, “Unless it wasn’t thrown.” Straightening up, she spun on her heel to face her son. “You said you saw this happen last night?”
He nodded.
“Did you see anybody in the yard?”
“No! They just flew off. Like magic.”
Emma met eyes with her again, just a sideways glance without a turn of the head, before looking back at her son. “Why didn’t you come and get us?”
Henry shrugged. “I figured you guys saw it. I thought you were going to come to get me, so I went to lay down to wait for you. I must’ve fallen asleep again before anything else happened.”
Regina lifted her eyes and Emma read the look in them clearly. She looked down at the deck beneath her feet. “We should clean this up.”
“No! Let’s make cider!” Henry reached down for some of the unblemished apples.
“No!”
Regina’s exclamation had been loud, forceful... laced with a bit of fear. Her hand was outstretched toward the boy to stop him but not quite touching. “Don’t touch them, they could be dangerous.”
Emma quickly dropped the one she’d been holding, wiping her hand on her jeans.
Regina threw her a look. “We can touch them, I just don’t want him touching them.”
“Oh.”
Henry made a face, squinty and contemplative, up at Regina. “Maybe I should have some magic too.”
She patted his head, lips set in a stern expression. “Maybe you should keep dreaming.” She nudged him toward the back door. “Go inside and gather up your dirty laundry, please. I’ll be doing the wash later.”
“How come I don’t get to help with this magic stuff?” he pouted, heading inside. His voice began to trail off as he rounded the corner, “I figured all this stuff out way before you guys did...”
Regina rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her son while Emma smirked. Then, she waved a hand, causing all the fallen apples to vanish in an instant.
Emma sighed. “Well, he’s apparently getting a little bit more adventurous with the messages he sends.”
“He’s getting ready to do something,” she murmured, pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips, “I can feel it. He’s not going to sit idly by much longer.”
“So what do we do?”
Regina stopped her pacing and met Emma’s eyes. “We need to send him a message of our own.”
*****
The prince and princess came by as promised in the early afternoon to go over a game-plan for their visit to the pawn shop. But Regina had a last-minute game change she wanted to speak to Snow White about. Emma had asked her a few times throughout the day what she was plotting, but she remained quiet and introspective.
Once they had arrived, Henry was sent up to his room against his chagrin, the only explanation being that the adults needed to talk.
Regina seized her former stepdaughter’s elbow, and Emma watched panic light Snow’s eyes. “If I could speak with you privately for a moment,” Regina intoned, softly but definitively.
Snow looked back at her husband. “James?”
“One-on-one if you don’t mind.” Off the looks she was receiving, Regina sighed and let go of Snow’s arm. “It’s of the utmost importance. Please.”
James nodded his assent and Regina led Snow out the back door, leaving Emma alone with her father. “Do you have any idea what that’s about?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the two of them, visible just outside the kitchen window.
Emma shook her head. “I really, really don’t. Wish I did, though.”
They stood together at the sink, looking out the window onto the patio. Snow and Regina were standing close together, Regina doing most of the talking. Snow White went through several facial expressions, the first of which was defiance. Whatever Regina was suggesting, she clearly was going to instinctively reject it.
Then, a furrowed-brow expression took over as she listened intently to whatever was being said. Emma watched her take in a deep breath and sigh it out, her shoulders moving with her as she did so. Regina remained talking the entire time, occasionally throwing a furtive glance around them -- probably on the lookout for prying eyes and/or ears.
“She won’t hurt her,” Emma heard herself saying.
Her father looked over at her. “You have faith in her. You trust her implicitly now, don’t you?”
Emma swallowed as inaudibly as she could, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” she replied after a moment, still not taking her eyes off the activity beyond the window.
She still felt him studying her. Another moment passed before he asked, “What changed?”
In a split-second, her mind’s eye glanced over the last twenty-four hours: the look in Regina’s eyes as she lifted her shirt to heal her rib; the sound of her scream when she’d been about to fall. The stare that passed between them when they finally had a grip on each other, dangling in mid-air, before their foreheads met. And then the taste of her lips, her skin, her very being.
“Everything,” she finally answered.
Emma felt her father throw one last furtive glance in her direction before turning to look outside again.
Now Regina stepped closer to Snow, telling her to do something. Snow nodded and when Regina reached out with both hands, she clasped them. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat, and the back of her mind threw up a dim warning that she still could try something.
A purple smoke engulfed them and James called to his wife through the closed window. “Snow!”
Emma grabbed his arm, digging her nails in. “She’s fine,” she assured him, despite not being one-hundred percent certain, herself.
The smoke swirled around the pair, high into the air before it dissipated. When Emma got another look at them she was almost startled. Snow White’s hair was several inches longer. It tumbled far past her shoulders in rich brown curls, and she wore a long white gown with a cloak around her shoulders of the palest blue. Her former self?
Regina’s attire was much on the other end of the spectrum. A long, flowing black gown that hugged her every curve until it flared just past the knee. Her hair was spun up and the top of her gown boasted a high collar at the back. She held an ornate silver box in her hands, passing it to Snow White.
Snow took it from her and hugged it to her body, turning it so she could reach the clasp that held it closed. She opened the box and her eyes widened; she snapped it closed and looked up at Regina. What she asked her was indecipherable, but Regina nodded in response to whatever it was, and then she bent into a genuflect, lowering her head.
Emma watched her mother as she stared at Regina with wide, surprised eyes, some other emotion visible but not yet readable. She blinked several times, looking down at the silver box and again at Regina before the purple smoke swirled around them once more. When it was gone, they were clothed normally, Regina still on one knee while Snow still clutched the ornate box.
Then, Regina stood. She and Snow White exchanged a long glance, before they nodded slowly at one another, some understanding having been reached. Then, they turned to head back inside.
Emma and James spun away from the window, leaving the kitchen to meet them in the back hallway. Emma threw up her hands in a shrug. “What the hell was that?”
Regina merely gave her a slight smile, turning to Snow White. “You know what to do?”
Snow nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.”
James shook his head. “What is that?”
Snow smiled at him. “It’s our secret weapon.” Then, she headed for the door. “Let’s go see if Mr. Gold wants to make a deal.”
All Emma could do was stare at Regina questioningly over her shoulder as she followed her parents out the door.
**
The pawn shop was, predictably, empty when they arrived. The bell over the door tinkled, signaling their entrance. Yet instead of finding the suit-clad ‘Mr. Gold’ behind the counter ogling some new acquisition, instead there was a young, blue-eyed brunette awaiting them.
“Welcome to Mr. Gold’s pawn shop,” she greeted them with a smile, coming out from behind the counter. “Is there something I can help you find?”
Emma stood at the head of their trio, in no mood to play nice. “Where is he?”
The girl’s smile faltered, but the courtesies remained. “M-Mister Gold, himself? Well I apologize, but he’s quite busy at the moment. You see, he’s--”
“Where. Is he,” she ground out through clenched teeth, knowing this was a line of defense for him.
“Do my ears deceive me, or is that the lovely Miss Swan coming out of hiding?” His voice rang out from the back of the store, and soon he had appeared, duplicitous smile already in place. His hands were braced on the door frame and he pushed himself out, no longer walking with a limp. “Ah, well it’s all three of the Charmings! Right here in my humble little shop!”
He stepped out in front of the young girl, hand to his stomach as he bowed deeply. “To what do I owe this great honor?”
Emma glared at him. “Cut the crap, Gold. You know why we’re here.”
The smile faded as he straightened up. He turned over his shoulder briefly and said to his counterpart in a matter-of-fact way, “That will be all, Belle.”
Emma watched as the girl threw him a dirty look and headed reluctantly into the back of the shop, leaving them alone.
“What brings you here, Charmings?”
James stepped forward. “We want to make a deal.”
Gold sniffed a laugh, heading behind the counter, and Emma and James followed him. “Well I hate to break it to you dearie, but I’m fresh out of interest in new deals.”
“Oh, I think you’ll make a deal with me.”
The three of them turned to see Snow White, still with a smug air about her. She leaned casually against one of the shelves, holding the silver box to her chest.
Gold tilted his head. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes.” She sauntered up to the counter, as if some of Regina’s attitude had rubbed off on her. “I don’t think it would be wise of you to decline in this case.”
“No? And, uh...” Leaning in, he wrinkled his nose and tipped his chin just slightly, his voice dropping to its trademark whisper as he finished, “Why’s that?”
Emma watched as her mother’s satisfied smile never faltered; she set the silver box on the counter with an unceremonious clunk, unhooking the clasp and opening it for him to see inside.
In the box, nestled in red velvet lining, was a sterling crown. A crown that seemed to render the pawnbroker momentarily speechless.
So Snow White stole the opportunity; she leaned in and answered him in that same whisper... “Because I’m your queen now.”
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}