Title: The Gift
Feedback address: Geekgrrl.email@example.com
Date in Calendar: 16 December 2014
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Swan Queen
Rating: NC - 17
Word Count: 1870
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DW14
Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
Author's Disclaimer: Once Upon A Time and its characters are the property of ABC. No infringement intended.
Note: Written for the FSAC 2014 Dead of Winter. Thank you as always for letting me play, my lovelies.
You wonder what she sees in you sometimes.
Your eyes raise and you look at your face reflecting back at you in your dresser mirror. Your hair is tousled and face is make-up free, a well-loved terry cloth robe wrapped around you. No one sees you like this, not even Henry.
Well, almost no one.
Only one has truly gotten past the walls, past the snarky tongue and penetrating glare. Only two people have been let inside, who have both stood up to you and forced you to take a good hard look at who you are inside; who have believed in you, even when you didn't deserve it.
"Hey, beautiful," Emma's reflection grins back at you, as you meet her eyes in the mirror. She has wandered into the bedroom, her feet silent upon the plush carpeting. Your heart clenches in your chest and for a moment, as the tenderness and caring in her eyes warms you to your very soul. She sinks down on your mattress, sliding up to rest against your pillows.
There it is again, washing over you in a wave. The strength and beauty of it, the purity and newness, makes your breath catch and causes hot tears to well at the back of your eyes. How could you have denied this for so long? How can this be a weakness, and how can you still allow your mother's harsh and twisted words affect you still so deeply, after all this time?
You feel it deep inside, beating along with your black heart, tickling along your skin like magic only this is pure and good. Finally. You almost don't know what to do with it, now that it has arrived on your doorstep.
And in your bed.
Your heart is tender and fragile, like a bud in the early morning sunshine, uncurling and daring to flower, if you allow yourself to take that step. And there is the rub, isn't it? Your heart is at stake in this little game and suddenly it doesn't feel like a game anymore.
You've collected them, in little boxes, hidden from view. Pulled from so many bodies, aggressively and maliciously, extracted precisely and yours to do with as you wish. To manipulate and play with as was your desire. All the while terrified of what would happen to your heart when it was finally taken from you. You've always doubted that there was anything left after all this time. What your mother hadn't destroyed, you took care of yourself, your evil deeds having almost surgically removed any trace of humanity from your soul.
And then she entered your life. Emma Swan, saviour, sheriff and general pain in the ass. And yet, she still found her way into your heart. Despite your fears and protective nature, you could not stop her charging into your ordered existence, scaling your walls and somehow finding her way inside. Now she is ensconced so deeply that you can never remove her. Not that you want to, ever. And yet you know that happily ever after is not really meant to be for you. After all villains don't get happy endings, do they?
Your name is soft upon her lips and your heart leaps for joy, traitor that it is. Emma Swan will be your undoing, and oddly enough, the thought doesn't disturb you as much as it used to. In fact you almost look forward to the reckoning on the horizon.
Your eyes lock with hers and you have to remind yourself to breathe as she smiles up at you from your dark sheets. She's wearing those thigh high boots you love and a favourite pair of blue jeans, the denim soft as butter, as soft as the skin you long to nuzzle behind her ear. Her white cotton shirt has fallen open revealing her black lacy bra, as she props herself up on your bed, watching you carefully.
It's too late for you now, there is no turning back, even if you wanted to. Your heart beats at long last to the time of your lover's wishes. You are lost, never to be the same without her, and so you wait for your time together to end, for the latest curse to be broken, and your heart destroyed in one fell swoop. Your son and his other mother taken from you.
And rightly so.
For your heart is black and twisted, you don't deserve any of the happiness being offered to you. You are a murderer and a liar, and more recently a mistress. A secret lover stealing a husband from his cursed frozen wife, that made more sense for you, a reasonable distraction even if it was a poor substitute for what you now know is the real thing.
Your happy ending, offered up like a precious gift. If you could dare to reach out and take that one last step, to bridge the distance from darkness to light, from jealousy to faith and trust. It was possible; you know it, deep in your bones. If only…
"Regina, stop thinking so damn hard, and come here," Emma offers you a lopsided grin, and pats the sheets next to her. Your heart rate skyrockets and you smile back, both of you more than aware of where this was all headed, yet again.
It's not the first time the Saviour has been in your bed and it sure as hell won't be the last, if you have any say in the matter. The silk feels cool against your skin and the smile she shoots you as you sink into the mattress beside her makes you flush with heat.
"Emma, I-I…" You swallow hard and look away, sure that this is a bad idea and yet unable to stop yourself. It needs to come out and that terrifies you more than anything. Where is has all your self-control gone? Washed away in a whisper and a tender touch apparently.
"Hey, it's just me." Emma murmurs, nibbling at your shoulder, "Jeez, you're wound up today." She moves her lips along the column of your neck and finds your earlobe. You turn and capture those full sweet lips, the temptation too strong, before slowly pulling a hairsbreadth apart.
"Emma, wait. I need--" your voice falters, as you meet her eyes, strong and clear and true, and it almost tears your tender heart apart.
"Shut up your Majesty, I need you too," Emma's fingers slide up into your hair and pull you down to her waiting lips.
You wonder if she will ever truly know how much you need her in your life, how deeply you love her and trust her with your inner most self. The time has come for you to actually take that step, and you know it. You swallow hard, the emotions overwhelming you and she cocks her head, clearly seeing the shift in your mood and concerned.
She sees you, the real you and for that you will be forever grateful. Physical beauty is skin deep and fades in time, this you know, but in her eyes your inner beauty is reflected there It is almost shocking that you have lived this long and have only found someone now who truly sees you.
You turn in your chair, Emma's eyes dropping to the curves and shadows revealed by your robe falling open. She licks her lips and you smile, knowing she wants you as much as you want her.
"Come here," Emma says, her voice low and seductive, promising things that your pray she can live up to. You glance up at her words, meeting those amazing eyes yet again, losing yourself there easily. She cocks an eyebrow and you purse your lips at the hint of a smirk she's trying to hide. "Please."
You move and make your way to the king sized bed, her eyes never leaving you. You stop inches from her tempting body, the desire to touch almost overwhelming. Emma smiles wider, her fingers sliding inside the collar of your robe before gently sliding it from your shoulders, revealing more of your body to her heated gaze.
Tonight you see it shining bright in Emma's bright green eyes. She struggles not to say it, battling her own inner demons, terrified that the words will make you disappear into the night, snatched away, like everyone else she placed any sort of hope in. Tonight there will be no more waiting, you see it burning there and it ignites something deep inside you.
You don't have a place for this in your life, a compartment or box to put this in, to micromanage and dissect and makeover. This thing between you is overwhelming and messing your well-ordered life.
You stand, revealing your naked body to her gaze and trail your trembling hand along her scantily clad form, enjoying her shiver of anticipation. The time has come, once again, to claim your saviour, to take what she has freely given you, to make her yours. Your fingers slide over her toned belly, down to the waist band of her jeans and further still into her underwear, through her damp curls and claim her as your own once more. She tastes of red wine and your name falls effortlessly from her soft lips. You smile, knowing that the battle has been won, at least for today.
"Open your eyes for me, Emma." You almost don't recognize your own voice, demanding yet vulnerable in its intensity. You lick your dry lips and duck your head, waiting for that one moment, that moment when Emma is truly yours.
Emma groans, but does as asked, forcing her eyes open and locking her gaze with your own. She is magnificent! She is so close, but she listens to your request and you see it again. Reflected there, naked and honest in its work. You angle your thrusts, filling her deeper even as her body arches from the bed straining for more contact. As she nears release you see her love there behind her eyes desperate to be set free.
A single moment of clarity hits you, the time is here, time for you to be brave, to take the first step. You know what you must do. You wonder what your eyes have given away, when suddenly she is coming and you whisper into her ear, wrenched from your black heart and very soul, a precious gift not easily given, to take with her as she tumbles over the edge.
"I love you." You whisper, pulled from your heart and very soul. Emma cries out, and you are not sure if it is from your words or the pleasure rippling along her nerves and muscles.
When she has finally calmed, sated, slowing her erratic movements beneath you, she opens her eyes again like windows to her soul and you can see it before she even says it, shattering the cage that had been holding my heart prisoner.
"I love you too, Regina."