A Queen Without Power (Once Upon a Time; Regina/Emma)
TITLE: A Queen Without Power
CHAPTER 15: Onward and Downward
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: Season one (in its entirety)
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Regina tasted of red wine, after-dinner mints and lipstick, and Emma found she rather enjoyed the combination.
*****
The response to her kiss was instant, though not at all what Emma expected. Regina’s supple lips opened beneath her own and for a moment she allowed herself to get lost in sensation. But the moment was brief, and she was lost for mere seconds before common sense found her once again.
She pulled back, apologies tumbling forth in hurried whispers and murmurs: she didn’t know what was happening, she was sorry, she didn’t know why she did it, it was just a weird impulse and oh God she was so sorry.
Her incessant mutterings were finally halted when Regina held up two hands, looking annoyed. “Do you suppose I could have a moment to say something here?”
Emma stopped, finally allowing herself to meet Regina’s eyes despite the embarrassment still tugging at her and turning her cheeks pink. “Sure, sorry. Go ahead.”
Then Regina’s hands were on her face, pulling her in again and they were connecting once more. This second kiss was electric; Regina’s lips were a livewire, sending sparks traveling through her veins.
Emma felt like a plasma globe, waves of static electricity emanating from her very being and gathering where Regina’s hands rested: one on her face and the other on the curve of her hip. Lips bruised and sparred for dominance. Regina tasted of red wine, after-dinner mints and lipstick, and Emma found she rather enjoyed the combination. Her fingers dove into the queen’s dark strands, reveling in the soft thickness.
Finally, they broke for air, confusion making itself comfortable between them. She could think of nothing more intelligible to say than, “Well-said.”
Regina smirked, instantly drawing focus to her kiss-chapped lips. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent speaker.”
Emma shivered, surprised by the sharp need that slid down her spine. She wanted to kiss Regina again. Why? “I don’t understand what’s happening here,” she murmured, an echo of the queen’s previous statement.
Regina shook her head. “Nor do I.”
“We shouldn’t kiss each other.”
“I agree.”
“We were supposed to hate each other.”
“Naturally.”
“But we don’t anymore. Right?”
“Right,” Regina nodded, holding her gaze. “I don’t hate you.”
“I don’t hate you, either.”
“And I believe that has largely to do with Henry,” Regina reasoned.
Emma nodded her agreement. “I think so too.” Furrowing her brows, she went on, “But--”
“Yes. But it doesn’t explain the kissing aspect.” After a moment, she lifted her dark eyes, quirking an eyebrow. “In all fairness, you kissed me first.”
She allowed herself to chuckle at that. “Maybe. But then I stopped, and you kissed me.”
“True.”
Silence settled over them again, each pair of eyes downcast to their laps. They were still seated close to one another, well within each other’s personal space, but far enough away that Emma was able to keep her head.
“I don’t understand why I...” She sighed, shrugging. “Did that. I mean, why I felt like I just had to, for just a second.”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Regina commented, tilting her head.
Emma’s gaze drifted to her neck, the soft skin exposed and suddenly inviting. “It’s like an itch,” she reasoned, unable to take her eyes off the queen’s throat.
Regina nodded, her own eyes making a slow path over her counterpart. “The kind that doesn’t stop even if you pretend you’re not dying to scratch it.”
“Right. So...” She lifted her eyes. “What do we do?”
“Well...” Regina cut her eyes to the side, one elbow propped on the back of the swing and legs tucked up beside her. Thoughtfully, she pursed her lips, and again Emma found herself entranced by the sight. Finally, their eyes met once more. “I think I, personally, am going to leave this decision to you.”
“Me?”
She nodded. “It seems a choice is necessary: between what we should do and what we want to do.”
Emma nodded her understanding. Hormones and common sense rarely did go hand-in-hand. A choice was necessary; trouble was, she didn’t know what the hell she was going to do.
While she was struggling, Regina leaned in and kissed her slowly... gently, but just enough to reignite the spark. When she pulled away, it was just far enough to meet Emma’s eyes, her own dark and smoky. “I’m going to go upstairs to bed,” she murmured. “If you join me, well...”
She trailed off and Emma watched a smile spread; it was something she had only seen on the mayor-slash-queen one other time; her brief congratulatory smile when she won the election for sheriff.
“Then I’ll know your answer.”
Then she took their empty wine glasses and went inside, throwing Emma a look over her shoulder as she went. Once she was out of sight, Emma let out the breath she’d been holding, and sat back hard on the swing. It rocked with her momentum and she just stared out at the apple tree, contemplating the swift turn of events over the last twenty-four hours.
Somehow in the last day, she and Regina had apparently become quite attracted to one another; or at least attracted enough to want to share kisses. She thought of everything they had been through from the moment they met and supposed there was always a tiny sliver of her that was drawn to Regina.
It had never been this overt, this bone-deep before, however. Why now? Was it the proximity, being holed up together in the estate? They had always kept a respectable, if a bit terse, distance between them. Now that they were thrown together in such close quarters, she supposed that could lend way to stirring up feelings.
But that was ridiculous. She and Regina suddenly feeling things for each other, getting urges to kiss and to touch, just didn’t make sense. The urges she’d been stricken with in the early days of her stay in Storybrooke mostly involved wanting to pull the mayor’s hair or wanting to punch her in the face. And now she wanted to run her fingers through the mayor’s hair and dust kisses to her face? It didn’t add up.
She made her way inside, turning off lights as she went before she ascended the staircase. The door to the master bedroom was left partially ajar and Emma lingered on the top few steps, contemplating the decision she needed to make.
If she joined Regina in the bedroom, what the hell would happen? Sex? And then what? No, she needed to make sense of all of this first. She’d never taken the act very seriously, but something about all this seemed quite serious. And it needed straightening out.
Then she considered the repercussions of not going to the bedroom. There would be more tension, certainly. Possibly some anger on Regina’s part. Would she lash out? Return to her conniving ways? Or would she respect Emma’s decision and work with her to figure out whatever was happening here?
Emma closed her eyes, sighing, and then she gripped the banister and pushed herself toward Henry’s room. She couldn’t do it. There was too much up in the air, and too much at stake to just let hormones and a possibly-fleeting desire take the lead.
She just hoped Regina would understand.
*****
Emma awoke to the sensation of being watched. She frowned, eyes still closed, and pulled the thin blanket up to her chin. The feeling only intensified. So she slowly let her eyes flutter open, gasping sharply when Henry’s wide eyes were just inches away.
“Jeez! Kid!” she groaned. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing in my room?”
He sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, leaning over far enough that Emma thought he might fall off. His elbows rested casually on the inside of his knees and his head was tilted at her curiously.
She huffed, pushing herself up on one elbow and rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “Well, I was sleeping.”
Henry just frowned at her. “How come you’re not in the big bedroom? With Regina?” As if realization struck, his eyes suddenly widened. “Did she try to suffocate you in your sleep?”
Emma couldn’t help the groggy chuckle that escaped. “No, she didn’t try to suffocate me.”
“Well then--”
“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” she told him, grunting slightly as she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up, grabbing the sheet and blanket along the way.
What Henry didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. In fact, knowing would just confuse the hell out of him. Emma couldn’t even make sense of last night -- expecting a ten-year-old to be able to figure it out would’ve been ridiculous.
But predictably, the boy didn’t just let it go that easily. “Did you guys have a fight?”
Once her back was turned, Emma raised her brows. “No, we definitely did not have a fight.”
She felt her son just silently contemplating the back of her head but chose to ignore it, and she turned around with a plastered-on smile. “Breakfast?”
**
Regina was already up and moving around in the kitchen by the time they got downstairs. Henry practically vaulted onto one of the barstools at the island, exclaiming, “Cereal, please!”
Regina threw him a look, but a small smirk broke through. “Good morning to you too.”
“Morning, Regina,” Emma greeted, more as a means to test the water than anything else.
And the queen averted her gaze, cupping her coffee mug as she returned a distant, “Good morning, Miss Swan,” and set about getting Henry’s bowl of cereal.
She tried not to roll her eyes. Obviously, she was upset. The sudden return to formality was evidence enough.
“Here you go,” Regina told her son, sliding a bowl of milk-drenched corn flakes his way. Then, she lifted her eyes to Emma’s. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Oh! Uh, sure, thanks!” She attempted a smile, hoping that was a good sign.
Regina nodded and went to the cupboard, retrieving a mug and setting it down on the counter. She waved toward it, sighing flippantly, “There you go,” before she brushed past and made her way back upstairs.
Emma tilted her head admonishingly but it went unnoticed by the queen. Her hand planted on her hip and she watched her disappear up the staircase, finally turning back to her son.
He just pressed his lips together, raising his eyebrows. Giving her a little smirk, he asked, “What did you do?”
Sighing, Emma rolled her eyes ruefully and told him, “Nothing,” and excused herself from the kitchen.
She headed for the master bedroom on autopilot, knowing that was Regina’s destination. When she stepped inside, Regina was busy making the bed, still clad in her bathrobe. She either hadn’t noticed, or chose to ignore, Emma’s presence, so she closed the door to get the queen’s attention.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
Regina paused her manic smoothing of the bedspread, tossing her hair as she straightened her spine. She glanced over her shoulder while she fluffed one of the pillows, just watching her expectantly.
Emma took another step forward. “I just... thought it would be best to sleep on it. Separately.” Shrugging, she threw up a hand. “I mean, what happened was so... sudden, and-and... random. And a big huge ‘first’ for me,” she raised her brows. Lifting her eyes to meet Regina’s, she told her softly, “I just wanted to give myself - and you - a little time to figure things out before rushing into anything else. Y’know?” She chuckled lightly. “I mean, it would’ve been a huge mistake.”
She watched as an inexplicable expression flitted across Regina’s features briefly -- some combination of sadness, dejection and cold detachment that she couldn’t quite decipher. Then, Regina blinked a few times and it was gone. In its place was a mask that she’d seen several times before. The mayoral smile with barely-repressed irritation hiding behind it. “You’re right. That would have been quite the disaster.”
Emma frowned, pushing away the momentary sting the comment invoked, and she nodded. “Yeah. So... maybe we should just pretend it never happened.”
Another flick of the hair, another few blinks, and the faux smile widened. “Pretend what never happened?”
She nodded slowly, eying Regina a bit cautiously. “Right.”
Regina went back to straightening the bed then, and Emma hesitated just a moment before she left, sighing to herself, “This oughtta go well.”
*****
Another day was spent walking on eggshells around Regina. The queen remained cordial, but still a little distant and curt. Emma didn’t have the energy to fight her, too busy wondering what in the hell had happened between them the night before.
Just after dinnertime, Snow and James arrived. She and Regina greeted each other awkwardly, if a bit tersely, exchanging uneasy glances every few seconds. Henry either took no notice of all the tension between the adults or happily ignored it, excitedly greeting his grandparents and pulling Snow up to his room to page through the fairytale book she’d given him so long ago.
When they were out of earshot, James studied his daughter and the former queen. “Ready?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose,” Regina answered, tugging on her jacket in that no-nonsense manner of hers before marching for the door.
Against her better judgment, Emma caught her arm on the way to the door. “Hey, wait.”
Regina gave her a look, part exasperation and part hurt, her eyes drifting to the hand on her arm. Emma drew it back to her side before asking, “Should you really just be walking out there as yourself?”
She shrugged. “I see no reason to hide any longer.”
Emma raised her eyebrows, eyes wide in disbelief. “You don’t? Because I can think of a few.” She grabbed her arm again.
And again, Regina eyed her in warning, this time jerking her arm away. “This isn’t your decision.”
Throwing a surreptitious glance at the prince, who feigned a sudden interest in one of the nearby bonsai trees, Emma turned back to her counterpart, lowering her voice. “If the people in town spot you and realize you’re still in Storybrooke, they are going to storm this house. That puts Henry in danger, which makes it my decision.”
Regina’s answering glare was sharp, and her nostrils flared momentarily, but she made no further protests. Instead, she just sighed and closed her eyes. In mere moments, she was consumed with black smoke, and a raven appeared in her place.
The prince turned around, asking his daughter, “Where did Regina go?”
The raven flapped its wings, and Emma heard Regina’s voice in her head, just as she had when she was disguised as a cat. “I’m right here.”
“That’s her,” Emma told him, pointing to the raven.
James furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to question, but Emma wasn’t particularly in the mood to explain. “Let’s go.”
**
They walked rather than taking the car, the raven leading the way, flying overhead. Whenever they spotted one of the citizens of Storybrooke, Emma would throw a glance up at the raven, who would then land on a street lamp or a store awning until they were in the clear.
Ruby had been the first to greet them. “Emma!” The girl had thrown her arms around her, eyes wide in relief. “We had no idea what happened to you! We thought Regina had gotten to you!”
“No, no. Regina is... long gone,” she lied, plastering on a smile as she slipped her hands into her back pockets.
“Good. Because Gran’s having all she can do not to hunt her down,” Ruby sighed, her hand on her chest. “She’s been spending so much time whittling lately. She says it’s for a new bow and arrow.” Pursing her lips, she added, “Says she wants to do some target practice on the queen.”
“Well,” Emma tilted her head, smiling ruefully. “Good luck finding her.” She gestured to James. “We’ve been looking for her ever since the curse broke, haven’t we?” She raised her brows at him.
“Y-Yes, we have.” James folded his arms across his chest. “We’ve searched extensively, all through Storybrooke. Can’t find any trace of her.”
Ruby nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure she’s hiding out in her castle. If only we knew how to get back there.”
“Right.”
They bid Ruby farewell shortly thereafter and continued on their way toward the library. Emma took out the ring of skeleton keys Regina had given her ahead of time, struggling to find the correct one.
“Two more to the left,” Regina told her, materializing suddenly beside her.
Emma’s eyes widened, and she looked around for any traces of Ruby or other curse victims. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.
“Oh please, it would’ve taken you an hour to find the right one,” Regina huffed, grabbing the key ring from her and inserting the correct one into the lock.
The three of them stepped into the dark library, Regina hitting the light switch on the wall.
Emma was still eying her in disbelief. “Should you really be taking such huge risks, being out in the open like that?”
Regina rolled her eyes. “Oh stop being so paranoid.”
“I’m not being paranoid! I’m concerned about Henry!”
James glanced between the two of them. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” they responded in unison, not taking their eyes off each other.
Regina brushed past her, heading for the wall of mirrors, shaped like a tree. Just as she had before the curse broke, she pressed her palm to one specific place on the mirror and it began to rise, revealing the old elevator.
James jumped back just slightly. “Wow.”
Regina ignored his surprise, retaining that regal, stoic air. “We’ll need you to operate the elevator while we go down to retrieve your sword.”
“Why are you going down?” Emma asked, knowing their original agreement was that the both of them would go down, but feeling uncertain in light of recent events.
“As I’ve said,” Regina sighed, arms folded across herself as the doors opened. “Magic here is unpredictable. Particularly now that it has returned in its entirety.”
She stepped onto the elevator and Emma followed, throwing her father a cautious look, which he returned, before the grate slid closed, confining them. “What does that mean?”
Regina tossed her hair, glancing at Emma as she opened her mouth to reply. Just as she did, the elevator pitched and began to plummet downward at a quick clip. They grabbed for each other instinctively; then, once they had regained their bearings, Regina dropped her arms.
“It means, quite simply, that Maleficent may be alive down there again.”
Emma swallowed hard, not particularly fond of the idea of having to slay a dragon, again. The first time had been dumb luck. What the hell would she do now? “So now what?”
Regina pursed her lips and quirked a brow, tilting her head. “Onward and downward.”
“Right, yeah.” Emma turned to face the doors, the air as they fell whipping her hair around. She repeated Regina’s mantra, “Onward and downward,” trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}
CHAPTER 15: Onward and Downward
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: Season one (in its entirety)
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Regina tasted of red wine, after-dinner mints and lipstick, and Emma found she rather enjoyed the combination.
*****
The response to her kiss was instant, though not at all what Emma expected. Regina’s supple lips opened beneath her own and for a moment she allowed herself to get lost in sensation. But the moment was brief, and she was lost for mere seconds before common sense found her once again.
She pulled back, apologies tumbling forth in hurried whispers and murmurs: she didn’t know what was happening, she was sorry, she didn’t know why she did it, it was just a weird impulse and oh God she was so sorry.
Her incessant mutterings were finally halted when Regina held up two hands, looking annoyed. “Do you suppose I could have a moment to say something here?”
Emma stopped, finally allowing herself to meet Regina’s eyes despite the embarrassment still tugging at her and turning her cheeks pink. “Sure, sorry. Go ahead.”
Then Regina’s hands were on her face, pulling her in again and they were connecting once more. This second kiss was electric; Regina’s lips were a livewire, sending sparks traveling through her veins.
Emma felt like a plasma globe, waves of static electricity emanating from her very being and gathering where Regina’s hands rested: one on her face and the other on the curve of her hip. Lips bruised and sparred for dominance. Regina tasted of red wine, after-dinner mints and lipstick, and Emma found she rather enjoyed the combination. Her fingers dove into the queen’s dark strands, reveling in the soft thickness.
Finally, they broke for air, confusion making itself comfortable between them. She could think of nothing more intelligible to say than, “Well-said.”
Regina smirked, instantly drawing focus to her kiss-chapped lips. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent speaker.”
Emma shivered, surprised by the sharp need that slid down her spine. She wanted to kiss Regina again. Why? “I don’t understand what’s happening here,” she murmured, an echo of the queen’s previous statement.
Regina shook her head. “Nor do I.”
“We shouldn’t kiss each other.”
“I agree.”
“We were supposed to hate each other.”
“Naturally.”
“But we don’t anymore. Right?”
“Right,” Regina nodded, holding her gaze. “I don’t hate you.”
“I don’t hate you, either.”
“And I believe that has largely to do with Henry,” Regina reasoned.
Emma nodded her agreement. “I think so too.” Furrowing her brows, she went on, “But--”
“Yes. But it doesn’t explain the kissing aspect.” After a moment, she lifted her dark eyes, quirking an eyebrow. “In all fairness, you kissed me first.”
She allowed herself to chuckle at that. “Maybe. But then I stopped, and you kissed me.”
“True.”
Silence settled over them again, each pair of eyes downcast to their laps. They were still seated close to one another, well within each other’s personal space, but far enough away that Emma was able to keep her head.
“I don’t understand why I...” She sighed, shrugging. “Did that. I mean, why I felt like I just had to, for just a second.”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Regina commented, tilting her head.
Emma’s gaze drifted to her neck, the soft skin exposed and suddenly inviting. “It’s like an itch,” she reasoned, unable to take her eyes off the queen’s throat.
Regina nodded, her own eyes making a slow path over her counterpart. “The kind that doesn’t stop even if you pretend you’re not dying to scratch it.”
“Right. So...” She lifted her eyes. “What do we do?”
“Well...” Regina cut her eyes to the side, one elbow propped on the back of the swing and legs tucked up beside her. Thoughtfully, she pursed her lips, and again Emma found herself entranced by the sight. Finally, their eyes met once more. “I think I, personally, am going to leave this decision to you.”
“Me?”
She nodded. “It seems a choice is necessary: between what we should do and what we want to do.”
Emma nodded her understanding. Hormones and common sense rarely did go hand-in-hand. A choice was necessary; trouble was, she didn’t know what the hell she was going to do.
While she was struggling, Regina leaned in and kissed her slowly... gently, but just enough to reignite the spark. When she pulled away, it was just far enough to meet Emma’s eyes, her own dark and smoky. “I’m going to go upstairs to bed,” she murmured. “If you join me, well...”
She trailed off and Emma watched a smile spread; it was something she had only seen on the mayor-slash-queen one other time; her brief congratulatory smile when she won the election for sheriff.
“Then I’ll know your answer.”
Then she took their empty wine glasses and went inside, throwing Emma a look over her shoulder as she went. Once she was out of sight, Emma let out the breath she’d been holding, and sat back hard on the swing. It rocked with her momentum and she just stared out at the apple tree, contemplating the swift turn of events over the last twenty-four hours.
Somehow in the last day, she and Regina had apparently become quite attracted to one another; or at least attracted enough to want to share kisses. She thought of everything they had been through from the moment they met and supposed there was always a tiny sliver of her that was drawn to Regina.
It had never been this overt, this bone-deep before, however. Why now? Was it the proximity, being holed up together in the estate? They had always kept a respectable, if a bit terse, distance between them. Now that they were thrown together in such close quarters, she supposed that could lend way to stirring up feelings.
But that was ridiculous. She and Regina suddenly feeling things for each other, getting urges to kiss and to touch, just didn’t make sense. The urges she’d been stricken with in the early days of her stay in Storybrooke mostly involved wanting to pull the mayor’s hair or wanting to punch her in the face. And now she wanted to run her fingers through the mayor’s hair and dust kisses to her face? It didn’t add up.
She made her way inside, turning off lights as she went before she ascended the staircase. The door to the master bedroom was left partially ajar and Emma lingered on the top few steps, contemplating the decision she needed to make.
If she joined Regina in the bedroom, what the hell would happen? Sex? And then what? No, she needed to make sense of all of this first. She’d never taken the act very seriously, but something about all this seemed quite serious. And it needed straightening out.
Then she considered the repercussions of not going to the bedroom. There would be more tension, certainly. Possibly some anger on Regina’s part. Would she lash out? Return to her conniving ways? Or would she respect Emma’s decision and work with her to figure out whatever was happening here?
Emma closed her eyes, sighing, and then she gripped the banister and pushed herself toward Henry’s room. She couldn’t do it. There was too much up in the air, and too much at stake to just let hormones and a possibly-fleeting desire take the lead.
She just hoped Regina would understand.
*****
Emma awoke to the sensation of being watched. She frowned, eyes still closed, and pulled the thin blanket up to her chin. The feeling only intensified. So she slowly let her eyes flutter open, gasping sharply when Henry’s wide eyes were just inches away.
“Jeez! Kid!” she groaned. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing in my room?”
He sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, leaning over far enough that Emma thought he might fall off. His elbows rested casually on the inside of his knees and his head was tilted at her curiously.
She huffed, pushing herself up on one elbow and rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “Well, I was sleeping.”
Henry just frowned at her. “How come you’re not in the big bedroom? With Regina?” As if realization struck, his eyes suddenly widened. “Did she try to suffocate you in your sleep?”
Emma couldn’t help the groggy chuckle that escaped. “No, she didn’t try to suffocate me.”
“Well then--”
“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” she told him, grunting slightly as she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up, grabbing the sheet and blanket along the way.
What Henry didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. In fact, knowing would just confuse the hell out of him. Emma couldn’t even make sense of last night -- expecting a ten-year-old to be able to figure it out would’ve been ridiculous.
But predictably, the boy didn’t just let it go that easily. “Did you guys have a fight?”
Once her back was turned, Emma raised her brows. “No, we definitely did not have a fight.”
She felt her son just silently contemplating the back of her head but chose to ignore it, and she turned around with a plastered-on smile. “Breakfast?”
**
Regina was already up and moving around in the kitchen by the time they got downstairs. Henry practically vaulted onto one of the barstools at the island, exclaiming, “Cereal, please!”
Regina threw him a look, but a small smirk broke through. “Good morning to you too.”
“Morning, Regina,” Emma greeted, more as a means to test the water than anything else.
And the queen averted her gaze, cupping her coffee mug as she returned a distant, “Good morning, Miss Swan,” and set about getting Henry’s bowl of cereal.
She tried not to roll her eyes. Obviously, she was upset. The sudden return to formality was evidence enough.
“Here you go,” Regina told her son, sliding a bowl of milk-drenched corn flakes his way. Then, she lifted her eyes to Emma’s. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Oh! Uh, sure, thanks!” She attempted a smile, hoping that was a good sign.
Regina nodded and went to the cupboard, retrieving a mug and setting it down on the counter. She waved toward it, sighing flippantly, “There you go,” before she brushed past and made her way back upstairs.
Emma tilted her head admonishingly but it went unnoticed by the queen. Her hand planted on her hip and she watched her disappear up the staircase, finally turning back to her son.
He just pressed his lips together, raising his eyebrows. Giving her a little smirk, he asked, “What did you do?”
Sighing, Emma rolled her eyes ruefully and told him, “Nothing,” and excused herself from the kitchen.
She headed for the master bedroom on autopilot, knowing that was Regina’s destination. When she stepped inside, Regina was busy making the bed, still clad in her bathrobe. She either hadn’t noticed, or chose to ignore, Emma’s presence, so she closed the door to get the queen’s attention.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
Regina paused her manic smoothing of the bedspread, tossing her hair as she straightened her spine. She glanced over her shoulder while she fluffed one of the pillows, just watching her expectantly.
Emma took another step forward. “I just... thought it would be best to sleep on it. Separately.” Shrugging, she threw up a hand. “I mean, what happened was so... sudden, and-and... random. And a big huge ‘first’ for me,” she raised her brows. Lifting her eyes to meet Regina’s, she told her softly, “I just wanted to give myself - and you - a little time to figure things out before rushing into anything else. Y’know?” She chuckled lightly. “I mean, it would’ve been a huge mistake.”
She watched as an inexplicable expression flitted across Regina’s features briefly -- some combination of sadness, dejection and cold detachment that she couldn’t quite decipher. Then, Regina blinked a few times and it was gone. In its place was a mask that she’d seen several times before. The mayoral smile with barely-repressed irritation hiding behind it. “You’re right. That would have been quite the disaster.”
Emma frowned, pushing away the momentary sting the comment invoked, and she nodded. “Yeah. So... maybe we should just pretend it never happened.”
Another flick of the hair, another few blinks, and the faux smile widened. “Pretend what never happened?”
She nodded slowly, eying Regina a bit cautiously. “Right.”
Regina went back to straightening the bed then, and Emma hesitated just a moment before she left, sighing to herself, “This oughtta go well.”
*****
Another day was spent walking on eggshells around Regina. The queen remained cordial, but still a little distant and curt. Emma didn’t have the energy to fight her, too busy wondering what in the hell had happened between them the night before.
Just after dinnertime, Snow and James arrived. She and Regina greeted each other awkwardly, if a bit tersely, exchanging uneasy glances every few seconds. Henry either took no notice of all the tension between the adults or happily ignored it, excitedly greeting his grandparents and pulling Snow up to his room to page through the fairytale book she’d given him so long ago.
When they were out of earshot, James studied his daughter and the former queen. “Ready?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose,” Regina answered, tugging on her jacket in that no-nonsense manner of hers before marching for the door.
Against her better judgment, Emma caught her arm on the way to the door. “Hey, wait.”
Regina gave her a look, part exasperation and part hurt, her eyes drifting to the hand on her arm. Emma drew it back to her side before asking, “Should you really just be walking out there as yourself?”
She shrugged. “I see no reason to hide any longer.”
Emma raised her eyebrows, eyes wide in disbelief. “You don’t? Because I can think of a few.” She grabbed her arm again.
And again, Regina eyed her in warning, this time jerking her arm away. “This isn’t your decision.”
Throwing a surreptitious glance at the prince, who feigned a sudden interest in one of the nearby bonsai trees, Emma turned back to her counterpart, lowering her voice. “If the people in town spot you and realize you’re still in Storybrooke, they are going to storm this house. That puts Henry in danger, which makes it my decision.”
Regina’s answering glare was sharp, and her nostrils flared momentarily, but she made no further protests. Instead, she just sighed and closed her eyes. In mere moments, she was consumed with black smoke, and a raven appeared in her place.
The prince turned around, asking his daughter, “Where did Regina go?”
The raven flapped its wings, and Emma heard Regina’s voice in her head, just as she had when she was disguised as a cat. “I’m right here.”
“That’s her,” Emma told him, pointing to the raven.
James furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to question, but Emma wasn’t particularly in the mood to explain. “Let’s go.”
**
They walked rather than taking the car, the raven leading the way, flying overhead. Whenever they spotted one of the citizens of Storybrooke, Emma would throw a glance up at the raven, who would then land on a street lamp or a store awning until they were in the clear.
Ruby had been the first to greet them. “Emma!” The girl had thrown her arms around her, eyes wide in relief. “We had no idea what happened to you! We thought Regina had gotten to you!”
“No, no. Regina is... long gone,” she lied, plastering on a smile as she slipped her hands into her back pockets.
“Good. Because Gran’s having all she can do not to hunt her down,” Ruby sighed, her hand on her chest. “She’s been spending so much time whittling lately. She says it’s for a new bow and arrow.” Pursing her lips, she added, “Says she wants to do some target practice on the queen.”
“Well,” Emma tilted her head, smiling ruefully. “Good luck finding her.” She gestured to James. “We’ve been looking for her ever since the curse broke, haven’t we?” She raised her brows at him.
“Y-Yes, we have.” James folded his arms across his chest. “We’ve searched extensively, all through Storybrooke. Can’t find any trace of her.”
Ruby nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure she’s hiding out in her castle. If only we knew how to get back there.”
“Right.”
They bid Ruby farewell shortly thereafter and continued on their way toward the library. Emma took out the ring of skeleton keys Regina had given her ahead of time, struggling to find the correct one.
“Two more to the left,” Regina told her, materializing suddenly beside her.
Emma’s eyes widened, and she looked around for any traces of Ruby or other curse victims. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.
“Oh please, it would’ve taken you an hour to find the right one,” Regina huffed, grabbing the key ring from her and inserting the correct one into the lock.
The three of them stepped into the dark library, Regina hitting the light switch on the wall.
Emma was still eying her in disbelief. “Should you really be taking such huge risks, being out in the open like that?”
Regina rolled her eyes. “Oh stop being so paranoid.”
“I’m not being paranoid! I’m concerned about Henry!”
James glanced between the two of them. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” they responded in unison, not taking their eyes off each other.
Regina brushed past her, heading for the wall of mirrors, shaped like a tree. Just as she had before the curse broke, she pressed her palm to one specific place on the mirror and it began to rise, revealing the old elevator.
James jumped back just slightly. “Wow.”
Regina ignored his surprise, retaining that regal, stoic air. “We’ll need you to operate the elevator while we go down to retrieve your sword.”
“Why are you going down?” Emma asked, knowing their original agreement was that the both of them would go down, but feeling uncertain in light of recent events.
“As I’ve said,” Regina sighed, arms folded across herself as the doors opened. “Magic here is unpredictable. Particularly now that it has returned in its entirety.”
She stepped onto the elevator and Emma followed, throwing her father a cautious look, which he returned, before the grate slid closed, confining them. “What does that mean?”
Regina tossed her hair, glancing at Emma as she opened her mouth to reply. Just as she did, the elevator pitched and began to plummet downward at a quick clip. They grabbed for each other instinctively; then, once they had regained their bearings, Regina dropped her arms.
“It means, quite simply, that Maleficent may be alive down there again.”
Emma swallowed hard, not particularly fond of the idea of having to slay a dragon, again. The first time had been dumb luck. What the hell would she do now? “So now what?”
Regina pursed her lips and quirked a brow, tilting her head. “Onward and downward.”
“Right, yeah.” Emma turned to face the doors, the air as they fell whipping her hair around. She repeated Regina’s mantra, “Onward and downward,” trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}