A Queen Without Power (Once Upon a Time; Regina/Emma)
TITLE: A Queen Without Power
CHAPTER 17: Left Dangling
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: Season one (in its entirety)
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: There they were once again; left dangling between common sense and emotion. And whatever this was building between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
*****
She’d heard many times that in the moments before death, a person’s life flashes before their eyes. And she’d never put much stock in it until that moment. The drop of her stomach alerted her of her imminent fall and the flashes began: elementary school, her various foster families, the day she learned she was pregnant, and the day she gave birth to her son.
Flashes of the day he found her and brought her to Maine as well as her first encounter with Regina (“You’re Henry’s birth mother?”) floated across her mind’s eye and she closed her eyes, preparing to plummet to her death.
And then her palm tingled; she looked down to see the elevator car continuing to fall, while she seemed to be stationary. Her arm was raised over her head and she watched her feet dangle, as if from somewhere outside of herself momentarily, before she threw a glance upward.
Long bolts of electricity, blue and purple, crackled in the several feet between her hand and Regina’s. Regina’s teeth were grit together tightly as she strained, reaching down toward her. “Keep reaching for me!” she yelled down to her.
Emma stretched her fingertips as far as they would go, the blue bolt brightening in its intensity. She felt no electrical shocks, no pain. Just a light tickle across her palm as she and Regina tried to sustain a connection.
She felt herself moving; felt herself being pulled slowly upward. She kept reaching, kept straining to push out her fingertips a little further. Regina kept one hand and both legs wrapped around the cable, bending back as she reached her free hand down further.
“Emma, keep reaching! I can’t keep this up much longer!”
“I’m trying!” she grunted, still rising slowly.
The bolts of purple and blue between their palms grew shorter and shorter. Emma closed her eyes and reached with all her might, eyes popping open when she felt her fingertips touch Regina’s. Instinctively, they clasped hands, fingers laced tightly together.
And, once they were palm-to-palm, a bright white crack of lightning exploded between their hands and Emma was airborne, calling Regina’s name as she flew upward.
Then, everything stopped. Emma opened her eyes and found them mere centimeters from a pair of worried browns. Slowly coming back to herself, she took in her surroundings.
She had an arm around Regina’s waist, clinging for dear life, while the other hand clutched the cable between their bodies. Regina had one arm over her head, gripping the cable tightly, and the other arm wound around Emma’s waist, bracing her securely.
They stared wide-eyed at each other, panting from the exertion. “I’ve got you,” Regina breathed, and Emma could have burst into tears of relief.
But she was still frozen, half in fear of falling again, eyes still wide as she exhaled, “Thanks.”
“I’m pulling you up!” James yelled down to them, his big-as-saucer eyes evidence enough that he’d seen the entire rescue.
Emma and Regina continued to stare at one another from just centimeters away, each set of eyes traveling numerous times over the other’s face.
Her thoughts were oddly, eerily vacant. She just held Regina’s gaze, trying to get her bearings. She had been so close... so close to the end. It was an unusual feeling. And one she couldn’t just bounce back from. She needed to feel grounded. So she closed her eyes and tried to get herself to calm down. But her heart kept racing.
She heard Regina’s soft exhale and then felt her warmth -- her forehead leaned on hers and she felt all the adrenaline melt away. She let out her breath as her heart slowed to normal. Suspended in mid-air, no earth beneath her feet, Emma had found her footing.
She opened her eyes, pulling back from the pseudo embrace as she met the queen’s eyes again. The silence between them was pregnant with so many unanswered questions. The most prevalent was why Regina acted so quickly to save her.
Searching her eyes, Regina answered the question without being asked. “I knew you weren’t ready to go yet.”
Emma swallowed hard, nodding and closing her eyes.
The queen’s voice reached her again from inches away, her confession whisper soft. “And I wasn’t ready to let you.”
She opened her eyes once more, drawing in a breath. There they were once again; left dangling between common sense and emotion. And whatever this was building between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Not even a full twenty-four hours had passed since they kissed, and already the feelings were irrepressible.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one struggling with it, either. As she and Regina stared at each other, Regina’s eyes kept making the same path down to her lips and then back again. And when she started to lean in, Emma didn’t have the willpower to stop her.
“Ouch!”
The sharp bolt protruding from the side of the elevator shaft, however, did. She jerked back, trying not to let go of Regina though her instant reflex was to cover the gash on her thigh.
“Are you okay?”
She snapped her eyes shut tightly, wincing against the pain. “I’m fine,” she got out, able to feel the blood seeping into the fabric of her jeans.
“You’re not, you’re bleeding.”
Huffing, Emma tossed her hair and met her eyes. “Well, not much we can do about it from here.”
Before long, James had hoisted them high enough that they were able to climb out of the elevator shaft on their own. Once they had, they both collapsed on the floor with relief, catching their breath.
“Emma, you’re hurt.” The prince knelt beside her, tentatively reaching toward her. “We need a tourniquet.”
“No, we don’t.” Regina pushed herself up, her hand glowing purple. “I’ve got it.”
Gently, she covered the deep gash on her leg, grimacing apologetically when Emma cried out and swore from the pain. Within seconds, though, the pain had diminished. She looked down to find just a slash in the denim. Her skin looked as though nothing had happened.
“There,” Regina murmured when she was finished, the purple glow fading from her. She looked over her shoulder at her, smiling just slightly. “Better?”
Emma nodded, pushing herself up on her elbows before she sat up. “Much. Thanks.”
Her father glanced between the two of them, eyes still round with shock. “What happened?”
Regina raised her brows, exhaling a sigh as she pressed her palms into her thighs, pushing herself to her feet. “Quite obvious, isn’t it?” She glanced up at the prince, reaching down for Emma. “The little weasel sabotaged the elevator.”
“Rumplestiltskin?”
Emma grabbed the proffered hand, giving it a quick squeeze once she was on her feet before letting go. She looked at her father, watching him watch the interaction.
“Of course,” Regina replied, folding her arms and beginning to pace back and forth. “He had to have known that we would go back for that sword. So he wanted us down there... but didn’t want to leave us a way out.”
James furrowed his brows. “Well, surely he knows that you have magical ability.”
“Yes. But he knows that mine is nowhere near his in terms of strength and ease.” She tossed her hair out of her eyes, looking at Emma. “But what he doesn’t know...”
The prince’s brows raised with the implication and he finished, “Is that the savior herself can use magic.”
“Exactly. And he must never know.”
James nodded his agreement. “He will not hear it from me.”
She quirked an eyebrow, taking a few slow, catlike steps toward the prince. “Can the same be said of your wife?” Pursing her lips, Regina tilted her head and added, “We both know that secret-keeping isn’t one of her strong suits.”
Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Regina...”
Her father held up a hand to her, nodding subtly to let her know it was okay. Then, he let his hand fall to his side as he turned to Regina, taking a couple steps of his own toward her. “Despite your complex history with Snow, I have complete confidence in her ability to withhold this information from Rumplestiltskin. Whether you believe that or not is your decision and yours alone, Regina. I’m not about to waste time making promises, nor will I let Snow waste any time proving her worth.”
Emma took a breath, watching the two royals stare each other down; not quite aggressively, but not cordially either. It was almost like a power struggle, she realized. The overthrown queen matching wits with the man who would be king.
James leaned in just slightly, dropping his voice to a low register as he added, “Sooner or later, Regina, you will need to let go of your past. You’ve clung to it for far too long. You need to learn to trust again -- to believe in Snow.” Leaning back, he sighed, picking his sword up off the ground. “And perhaps then you can allow yourself to find happiness. Maybe not the kind that magic can offer temporarily, but real, true happiness. Not to mention love.”
With one last meaningful flick of his brows, James hefted his sword in his hand and turned on his heel, heading for the library’s main doors.
Emma stayed behind momentarily, watching Regina’s reaction. Her nostrils were flared just slightly as she exhaled, watching the prince’s retreat. Then, after a few blinks she was back to normal. The same repression Emma had seen a dozen times before. She idly considered asking Regina if she was okay. Then, upon receiving a quick glance from the former queen, Emma thought better of it, and simply followed her out.
**
Regina resumed the form of a raven for their trip home. And by now, it was late enough that the citizens of Storybrooke had all likely gone to bed. Or at least taken to indoor activity.
Once inside the foyer of the estate, Regina was herself once more. They found Snow White in the kitchen sipping at a cup of, of all things, apple cider.
Emma raised her brows at the sight as the three of them made their way into the kitchen. “Woulda figured you’d have an aversion to apples. Or at least a phobia.”
Snow White shook her head. “I used to.” Looking up, she seemed to focus on Regina as she commented, “But someone once told me the only way to overcome fear is to face it.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder at Regina, who seemed to be absorbing the comment with something akin to surprise in her expression. Shrugging it off, she turned back to her mother. “Henry asleep?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
Regina nodded slowly, still seemingly absorbing Snow’s comment as she murmured absently, “I’ll be in my study.”
They watched her go, and Emma turned back to her parents with a sheepish expression, lips pressed tightly together. “She, uh... she probably meant to say ‘thank you’ for watching Henry tonight.”
Snow chuckled mirthlessly. “No, she didn’t. I’m sure she doesn’t want me anywhere near him.”
“This truce will not be without tension, Snow,” James told her, his arm around her shoulders. “It will be a large adjustment for both you and Regina. But just know that it will be worth it. That it’s in everyone’s best interests.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I know.” Smiling up at him, she cooed, “Thanks, Charming.”
They bid their daughter goodnight and left together, promising to return the next evening so they could pay a visit to ‘Mr. Gold.’ Then, Emma made her way to the study.
Regina was sitting on the sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her and her back against the arm. She held a small tumbler of scotch in one hand, though she wasn’t drinking. Instead, she was swirling the glass and watching the liquid.
Emma lingered in the doorway, wondering if she should leave her alone. “You okay?” she couldn’t help but ask.
All she got was a nod in return; Regina wouldn’t even meet her eyes.
“You... wanna talk?”
This time she received a negative shake of the head as Regina raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.
She sighed as inaudibly as she could. “Alright! Well, uh... I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Scaling an elevator shaft really saps my energy.” She chuckled a bit, but still received no response. She nodded once. “So... goodnight.”
She headed upstairs, brows furrowed as she wondered what exactly was running through Regina’s head. On the top step she hesitated, looking first at Henry’s door, followed by that of the master bedroom. It was a momentary game show -- door number one, or door number two?
Finally throwing a glance over her shoulder, Emma decided that Regina would throw her out if she didn’t want her there... and then chose door number two.
**
It was sometime past midnight when Emma awoke with a start, feeling as though she’d just had a nightmare while completely unable to recall a single detail. She glanced over at the other side of the bed, finding the covers still undisturbed. Regina hadn’t even been upstairs.
Frowning in half-confusion, half-concern, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, replacing the strap on her nightgown that had begun to slip down her shoulder. Then, she padded down the stairs.
The door to the study was still left partially-ajar from when she’d said goodnight to Regina, and a sliver of light bathed the dark foyer. Pressing her fingertips lightly to the door, Emma peeked inside. “Regina?”
She laid asleep on the couch, her chin tucked against her shoulder with one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa, the other thrown across her stomach. Her glass of scotch sat on the rug just inches below her fingertips.
Emma watched her for a moment, envying the length of her dark, thick lashes and the way her lips pouted in sleep. Leave it to Regina to still look flawless even doing something as potentially-unflattering as sleeping.
Slowly, she crept toward her, kneeling down at the side of the couch. She picked up the glass of scotch, spying the unmistakable shade of lipstick on the rim as she wondered how much Regina had drank. But just as she moved to take the glass away, she accidentally bumped Regina’s fingers and the former queen bolted upright, gasping loudly as if resurfacing from underwater.
Emma jumped, nearly spilling the scotch all over the rug as she swore in surprise. Their hands found each other and grabbed on as each woman tried to regain her bearings from being startled.
“Emma?”
“Sorry to scare you,” she replied, dropping Regina’s hand. She brought the glass of scotch over to the small bar near the doors. “I, uh... I just came to find you.”
Regina breathed heavily, raking her hands through her hair as she sat up more fully. “Why?”
“Well, you never came upstairs.”
“I know. I was busy.”
Emma made a face. “Doing what, getting drunk?”
Regina sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not, nor did I intend to be, drunk. I just... had some thinking to do.”
She took a seat on the other end of the couch without waiting for an invitation. “About what?”
“Everything.”
Emma just sat patiently, brows raised as she awaited the elaboration.
“My mother started using magic when I was a teenager. I hated it. It seemed so silly -- quick fixes for things that were supposed to be mended with time and care. She used it as a weapon; a form of punishment for me. She wanted me to be regal... noble. She gave me a horse so I could learn to ride. But when I didn’t ride properly, she’d tie me up with the reins and let me dangle in the air until I promised to do better.”
Emma frowned, reaching her fingers out just slightly. Without looking, Regina clasped them and held tight.
“My father could only do so much to stop her from hurting me. And sometimes, she would tie him up just to get a better crack at me. She was such a cold woman... and I don’t know that she ever loved my father. To her, love was weakness.” Regina shook her head, staring at her lap. “Over and over again, she would tell me that. She told me never to be stupid enough to fall in love. To feel love for anything, really, because in the end it would only cause pain and suffering. True power endures.”
“She wanted you to be powerful.”
Regina nodded slowly. “She did. She wanted to give me every opportunity for greatness. And then one day, she got it in her head that she wanted me to be queen.” Her brows flicked upward.
Emma pursed her lips in understanding. “And then came Snow White.”
“And the runaway horse, yes.” She sighed, shaking her head and looking to her lap again. “I never cared about power before I lost Daniel. I didn’t aspire to be something incredible, I just...” She lifted her head, a small crease indenting the skin between her brows. “I just wanted to love somebody. And I wanted someone to love me. I could have had that with Daniel.”
“Love is not weakness,” Emma told her. “If I’ve learned anything over the past however-many-months getting to know Henry, it’s that love is strength. It’s powerful. More powerful than whatever magic can offer.”
“I wish I could allow myself to believe that, but--”
“So believe it.”
“It’s not that simple. It’s...” She made a face. “Confusing.”
“What’s confusing about it?”
Regina met her eyes, replying quietly, “You.”
“Me? I’m confusing you? How?”
“You’re too, too...” Her hands made small circles in the air as she searched for the right word, finally landing on, “ nice to me. No matter how much we butt heads, no matter how terrible I am, you will not turn a cold shoulder to me. You easily could have left me to burn in that fire several months ago. Not to mention, you could’ve just left me tied to that chair in the library. But you didn’t do either.”
Emma smiled slightly, tilting her head as she bent her knees, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Because that’s what good people do.”
“Right.”
A thought struck her, then, and she furrowed her brows. “Was that why you saved me back there? In the elevator shaft?”
Regina shook her head, and Emma’s stomach somersaulted with the idea that it could be something... else. She remembered Regina’s words to her as they dangled together: “I knew you weren’t ready to go yet. And I wasn’t ready to let you.”
“What happened in that elevator was pure instinct. When you began to fall, Emma...”
When she trailed off, Emma lifted her head, meeting her eyes. There was a look of confusion on her face, with some wonder mixed in.
“I thought my heart was going to stop.”
Emma’s skipped a beat of its own at the confession.
“So I reached for you, and it just... happened.”
Emma nodded, that portion of her memory already fuzzy. It had all happened so fast, after all. It seemed like she had just closed her eyes and then suddenly they were connecting, helping each other.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Regina murmured.
That drew her attention. “Do what?”
“Pretend that nothing is happening here.” She rose up on her knees on the couch, sitting back on her heels. “Something is.”
Emma swallowed hard. “I know. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
Regina pressed her lips together, eyes cut to the side in contemplation. “I think I might.”
“Yeah?” She crooked a brow. “What?”
She watched it play out as if in slow motion. Regina smiled, softly, still sitting on her heels on the other end of the couch. Then, she began to lean, slowly. Emma felt herself leaning forward, felt all of her focus go to Regina’s lips. She felt her breath and she shuddered. Then, there was a kiss.
And then another, a bit less tentative than the first. Then, Regina pulled back and they searched each other’s eyes. That strange bit of adrenaline was coursing through her again, and she swept her hand under Regina’s hair and pulled her in, leaning back on the couch.
She wasn’t certain how long they remained there, kissing and touching, but before long Regina pulled back. Her lips were swollen from their harried kisses, and Emma found herself wanting more. The queen smiled a slow-curling smile, and her teeth bit down softly on her lower lip as she hovered above her.
When she leaned in for more, Regina slowly backed away, rising from the couch. She took the glass of scotch with her and Emma watched as she ascended the staircase, sipping from the glass.
So there she was, left dangling, unsure of the next move. She was awash with sensation; some amalgam of desire and sexual confusion. It became clear what to do.
She just had no idea what the hell the fallout would be this time.
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}
CHAPTER 17: Left Dangling
FANDOM: Once Upon a Time
PAIRING: Swan Queen (Regina/Emma)
SPOILERS: Season one (in its entirety)
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: There they were once again; left dangling between common sense and emotion. And whatever this was building between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
*****
She’d heard many times that in the moments before death, a person’s life flashes before their eyes. And she’d never put much stock in it until that moment. The drop of her stomach alerted her of her imminent fall and the flashes began: elementary school, her various foster families, the day she learned she was pregnant, and the day she gave birth to her son.
Flashes of the day he found her and brought her to Maine as well as her first encounter with Regina (“You’re Henry’s birth mother?”) floated across her mind’s eye and she closed her eyes, preparing to plummet to her death.
And then her palm tingled; she looked down to see the elevator car continuing to fall, while she seemed to be stationary. Her arm was raised over her head and she watched her feet dangle, as if from somewhere outside of herself momentarily, before she threw a glance upward.
Long bolts of electricity, blue and purple, crackled in the several feet between her hand and Regina’s. Regina’s teeth were grit together tightly as she strained, reaching down toward her. “Keep reaching for me!” she yelled down to her.
Emma stretched her fingertips as far as they would go, the blue bolt brightening in its intensity. She felt no electrical shocks, no pain. Just a light tickle across her palm as she and Regina tried to sustain a connection.
She felt herself moving; felt herself being pulled slowly upward. She kept reaching, kept straining to push out her fingertips a little further. Regina kept one hand and both legs wrapped around the cable, bending back as she reached her free hand down further.
“Emma, keep reaching! I can’t keep this up much longer!”
“I’m trying!” she grunted, still rising slowly.
The bolts of purple and blue between their palms grew shorter and shorter. Emma closed her eyes and reached with all her might, eyes popping open when she felt her fingertips touch Regina’s. Instinctively, they clasped hands, fingers laced tightly together.
And, once they were palm-to-palm, a bright white crack of lightning exploded between their hands and Emma was airborne, calling Regina’s name as she flew upward.
Then, everything stopped. Emma opened her eyes and found them mere centimeters from a pair of worried browns. Slowly coming back to herself, she took in her surroundings.
She had an arm around Regina’s waist, clinging for dear life, while the other hand clutched the cable between their bodies. Regina had one arm over her head, gripping the cable tightly, and the other arm wound around Emma’s waist, bracing her securely.
They stared wide-eyed at each other, panting from the exertion. “I’ve got you,” Regina breathed, and Emma could have burst into tears of relief.
But she was still frozen, half in fear of falling again, eyes still wide as she exhaled, “Thanks.”
“I’m pulling you up!” James yelled down to them, his big-as-saucer eyes evidence enough that he’d seen the entire rescue.
Emma and Regina continued to stare at one another from just centimeters away, each set of eyes traveling numerous times over the other’s face.
Her thoughts were oddly, eerily vacant. She just held Regina’s gaze, trying to get her bearings. She had been so close... so close to the end. It was an unusual feeling. And one she couldn’t just bounce back from. She needed to feel grounded. So she closed her eyes and tried to get herself to calm down. But her heart kept racing.
She heard Regina’s soft exhale and then felt her warmth -- her forehead leaned on hers and she felt all the adrenaline melt away. She let out her breath as her heart slowed to normal. Suspended in mid-air, no earth beneath her feet, Emma had found her footing.
She opened her eyes, pulling back from the pseudo embrace as she met the queen’s eyes again. The silence between them was pregnant with so many unanswered questions. The most prevalent was why Regina acted so quickly to save her.
Searching her eyes, Regina answered the question without being asked. “I knew you weren’t ready to go yet.”
Emma swallowed hard, nodding and closing her eyes.
The queen’s voice reached her again from inches away, her confession whisper soft. “And I wasn’t ready to let you.”
She opened her eyes once more, drawing in a breath. There they were once again; left dangling between common sense and emotion. And whatever this was building between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Not even a full twenty-four hours had passed since they kissed, and already the feelings were irrepressible.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one struggling with it, either. As she and Regina stared at each other, Regina’s eyes kept making the same path down to her lips and then back again. And when she started to lean in, Emma didn’t have the willpower to stop her.
“Ouch!”
The sharp bolt protruding from the side of the elevator shaft, however, did. She jerked back, trying not to let go of Regina though her instant reflex was to cover the gash on her thigh.
“Are you okay?”
She snapped her eyes shut tightly, wincing against the pain. “I’m fine,” she got out, able to feel the blood seeping into the fabric of her jeans.
“You’re not, you’re bleeding.”
Huffing, Emma tossed her hair and met her eyes. “Well, not much we can do about it from here.”
Before long, James had hoisted them high enough that they were able to climb out of the elevator shaft on their own. Once they had, they both collapsed on the floor with relief, catching their breath.
“Emma, you’re hurt.” The prince knelt beside her, tentatively reaching toward her. “We need a tourniquet.”
“No, we don’t.” Regina pushed herself up, her hand glowing purple. “I’ve got it.”
Gently, she covered the deep gash on her leg, grimacing apologetically when Emma cried out and swore from the pain. Within seconds, though, the pain had diminished. She looked down to find just a slash in the denim. Her skin looked as though nothing had happened.
“There,” Regina murmured when she was finished, the purple glow fading from her. She looked over her shoulder at her, smiling just slightly. “Better?”
Emma nodded, pushing herself up on her elbows before she sat up. “Much. Thanks.”
Her father glanced between the two of them, eyes still round with shock. “What happened?”
Regina raised her brows, exhaling a sigh as she pressed her palms into her thighs, pushing herself to her feet. “Quite obvious, isn’t it?” She glanced up at the prince, reaching down for Emma. “The little weasel sabotaged the elevator.”
“Rumplestiltskin?”
Emma grabbed the proffered hand, giving it a quick squeeze once she was on her feet before letting go. She looked at her father, watching him watch the interaction.
“Of course,” Regina replied, folding her arms and beginning to pace back and forth. “He had to have known that we would go back for that sword. So he wanted us down there... but didn’t want to leave us a way out.”
James furrowed his brows. “Well, surely he knows that you have magical ability.”
“Yes. But he knows that mine is nowhere near his in terms of strength and ease.” She tossed her hair out of her eyes, looking at Emma. “But what he doesn’t know...”
The prince’s brows raised with the implication and he finished, “Is that the savior herself can use magic.”
“Exactly. And he must never know.”
James nodded his agreement. “He will not hear it from me.”
She quirked an eyebrow, taking a few slow, catlike steps toward the prince. “Can the same be said of your wife?” Pursing her lips, Regina tilted her head and added, “We both know that secret-keeping isn’t one of her strong suits.”
Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Regina...”
Her father held up a hand to her, nodding subtly to let her know it was okay. Then, he let his hand fall to his side as he turned to Regina, taking a couple steps of his own toward her. “Despite your complex history with Snow, I have complete confidence in her ability to withhold this information from Rumplestiltskin. Whether you believe that or not is your decision and yours alone, Regina. I’m not about to waste time making promises, nor will I let Snow waste any time proving her worth.”
Emma took a breath, watching the two royals stare each other down; not quite aggressively, but not cordially either. It was almost like a power struggle, she realized. The overthrown queen matching wits with the man who would be king.
James leaned in just slightly, dropping his voice to a low register as he added, “Sooner or later, Regina, you will need to let go of your past. You’ve clung to it for far too long. You need to learn to trust again -- to believe in Snow.” Leaning back, he sighed, picking his sword up off the ground. “And perhaps then you can allow yourself to find happiness. Maybe not the kind that magic can offer temporarily, but real, true happiness. Not to mention love.”
With one last meaningful flick of his brows, James hefted his sword in his hand and turned on his heel, heading for the library’s main doors.
Emma stayed behind momentarily, watching Regina’s reaction. Her nostrils were flared just slightly as she exhaled, watching the prince’s retreat. Then, after a few blinks she was back to normal. The same repression Emma had seen a dozen times before. She idly considered asking Regina if she was okay. Then, upon receiving a quick glance from the former queen, Emma thought better of it, and simply followed her out.
**
Regina resumed the form of a raven for their trip home. And by now, it was late enough that the citizens of Storybrooke had all likely gone to bed. Or at least taken to indoor activity.
Once inside the foyer of the estate, Regina was herself once more. They found Snow White in the kitchen sipping at a cup of, of all things, apple cider.
Emma raised her brows at the sight as the three of them made their way into the kitchen. “Woulda figured you’d have an aversion to apples. Or at least a phobia.”
Snow White shook her head. “I used to.” Looking up, she seemed to focus on Regina as she commented, “But someone once told me the only way to overcome fear is to face it.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder at Regina, who seemed to be absorbing the comment with something akin to surprise in her expression. Shrugging it off, she turned back to her mother. “Henry asleep?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
Regina nodded slowly, still seemingly absorbing Snow’s comment as she murmured absently, “I’ll be in my study.”
They watched her go, and Emma turned back to her parents with a sheepish expression, lips pressed tightly together. “She, uh... she probably meant to say ‘thank you’ for watching Henry tonight.”
Snow chuckled mirthlessly. “No, she didn’t. I’m sure she doesn’t want me anywhere near him.”
“This truce will not be without tension, Snow,” James told her, his arm around her shoulders. “It will be a large adjustment for both you and Regina. But just know that it will be worth it. That it’s in everyone’s best interests.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I know.” Smiling up at him, she cooed, “Thanks, Charming.”
They bid their daughter goodnight and left together, promising to return the next evening so they could pay a visit to ‘Mr. Gold.’ Then, Emma made her way to the study.
Regina was sitting on the sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her and her back against the arm. She held a small tumbler of scotch in one hand, though she wasn’t drinking. Instead, she was swirling the glass and watching the liquid.
Emma lingered in the doorway, wondering if she should leave her alone. “You okay?” she couldn’t help but ask.
All she got was a nod in return; Regina wouldn’t even meet her eyes.
“You... wanna talk?”
This time she received a negative shake of the head as Regina raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.
She sighed as inaudibly as she could. “Alright! Well, uh... I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Scaling an elevator shaft really saps my energy.” She chuckled a bit, but still received no response. She nodded once. “So... goodnight.”
She headed upstairs, brows furrowed as she wondered what exactly was running through Regina’s head. On the top step she hesitated, looking first at Henry’s door, followed by that of the master bedroom. It was a momentary game show -- door number one, or door number two?
Finally throwing a glance over her shoulder, Emma decided that Regina would throw her out if she didn’t want her there... and then chose door number two.
**
It was sometime past midnight when Emma awoke with a start, feeling as though she’d just had a nightmare while completely unable to recall a single detail. She glanced over at the other side of the bed, finding the covers still undisturbed. Regina hadn’t even been upstairs.
Frowning in half-confusion, half-concern, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, replacing the strap on her nightgown that had begun to slip down her shoulder. Then, she padded down the stairs.
The door to the study was still left partially-ajar from when she’d said goodnight to Regina, and a sliver of light bathed the dark foyer. Pressing her fingertips lightly to the door, Emma peeked inside. “Regina?”
She laid asleep on the couch, her chin tucked against her shoulder with one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa, the other thrown across her stomach. Her glass of scotch sat on the rug just inches below her fingertips.
Emma watched her for a moment, envying the length of her dark, thick lashes and the way her lips pouted in sleep. Leave it to Regina to still look flawless even doing something as potentially-unflattering as sleeping.
Slowly, she crept toward her, kneeling down at the side of the couch. She picked up the glass of scotch, spying the unmistakable shade of lipstick on the rim as she wondered how much Regina had drank. But just as she moved to take the glass away, she accidentally bumped Regina’s fingers and the former queen bolted upright, gasping loudly as if resurfacing from underwater.
Emma jumped, nearly spilling the scotch all over the rug as she swore in surprise. Their hands found each other and grabbed on as each woman tried to regain her bearings from being startled.
“Emma?”
“Sorry to scare you,” she replied, dropping Regina’s hand. She brought the glass of scotch over to the small bar near the doors. “I, uh... I just came to find you.”
Regina breathed heavily, raking her hands through her hair as she sat up more fully. “Why?”
“Well, you never came upstairs.”
“I know. I was busy.”
Emma made a face. “Doing what, getting drunk?”
Regina sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not, nor did I intend to be, drunk. I just... had some thinking to do.”
She took a seat on the other end of the couch without waiting for an invitation. “About what?”
“Everything.”
Emma just sat patiently, brows raised as she awaited the elaboration.
“My mother started using magic when I was a teenager. I hated it. It seemed so silly -- quick fixes for things that were supposed to be mended with time and care. She used it as a weapon; a form of punishment for me. She wanted me to be regal... noble. She gave me a horse so I could learn to ride. But when I didn’t ride properly, she’d tie me up with the reins and let me dangle in the air until I promised to do better.”
Emma frowned, reaching her fingers out just slightly. Without looking, Regina clasped them and held tight.
“My father could only do so much to stop her from hurting me. And sometimes, she would tie him up just to get a better crack at me. She was such a cold woman... and I don’t know that she ever loved my father. To her, love was weakness.” Regina shook her head, staring at her lap. “Over and over again, she would tell me that. She told me never to be stupid enough to fall in love. To feel love for anything, really, because in the end it would only cause pain and suffering. True power endures.”
“She wanted you to be powerful.”
Regina nodded slowly. “She did. She wanted to give me every opportunity for greatness. And then one day, she got it in her head that she wanted me to be queen.” Her brows flicked upward.
Emma pursed her lips in understanding. “And then came Snow White.”
“And the runaway horse, yes.” She sighed, shaking her head and looking to her lap again. “I never cared about power before I lost Daniel. I didn’t aspire to be something incredible, I just...” She lifted her head, a small crease indenting the skin between her brows. “I just wanted to love somebody. And I wanted someone to love me. I could have had that with Daniel.”
“Love is not weakness,” Emma told her. “If I’ve learned anything over the past however-many-months getting to know Henry, it’s that love is strength. It’s powerful. More powerful than whatever magic can offer.”
“I wish I could allow myself to believe that, but--”
“So believe it.”
“It’s not that simple. It’s...” She made a face. “Confusing.”
“What’s confusing about it?”
Regina met her eyes, replying quietly, “You.”
“Me? I’m confusing you? How?”
“You’re too, too...” Her hands made small circles in the air as she searched for the right word, finally landing on, “ nice to me. No matter how much we butt heads, no matter how terrible I am, you will not turn a cold shoulder to me. You easily could have left me to burn in that fire several months ago. Not to mention, you could’ve just left me tied to that chair in the library. But you didn’t do either.”
Emma smiled slightly, tilting her head as she bent her knees, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Because that’s what good people do.”
“Right.”
A thought struck her, then, and she furrowed her brows. “Was that why you saved me back there? In the elevator shaft?”
Regina shook her head, and Emma’s stomach somersaulted with the idea that it could be something... else. She remembered Regina’s words to her as they dangled together: “I knew you weren’t ready to go yet. And I wasn’t ready to let you.”
“What happened in that elevator was pure instinct. When you began to fall, Emma...”
When she trailed off, Emma lifted her head, meeting her eyes. There was a look of confusion on her face, with some wonder mixed in.
“I thought my heart was going to stop.”
Emma’s skipped a beat of its own at the confession.
“So I reached for you, and it just... happened.”
Emma nodded, that portion of her memory already fuzzy. It had all happened so fast, after all. It seemed like she had just closed her eyes and then suddenly they were connecting, helping each other.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Regina murmured.
That drew her attention. “Do what?”
“Pretend that nothing is happening here.” She rose up on her knees on the couch, sitting back on her heels. “Something is.”
Emma swallowed hard. “I know. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
Regina pressed her lips together, eyes cut to the side in contemplation. “I think I might.”
“Yeah?” She crooked a brow. “What?”
She watched it play out as if in slow motion. Regina smiled, softly, still sitting on her heels on the other end of the couch. Then, she began to lean, slowly. Emma felt herself leaning forward, felt all of her focus go to Regina’s lips. She felt her breath and she shuddered. Then, there was a kiss.
And then another, a bit less tentative than the first. Then, Regina pulled back and they searched each other’s eyes. That strange bit of adrenaline was coursing through her again, and she swept her hand under Regina’s hair and pulled her in, leaning back on the couch.
She wasn’t certain how long they remained there, kissing and touching, but before long Regina pulled back. Her lips were swollen from their harried kisses, and Emma found herself wanting more. The queen smiled a slow-curling smile, and her teeth bit down softly on her lower lip as she hovered above her.
When she leaned in for more, Regina slowly backed away, rising from the couch. She took the glass of scotch with her and Emma watched as she ascended the staircase, sipping from the glass.
So there she was, left dangling, unsure of the next move. She was awash with sensation; some amalgam of desire and sexual confusion. It became clear what to do.
She just had no idea what the hell the fallout would be this time.
TBC
{x-posted to onceupon_fanfic and regina_emma}