There were few things as irritating as destiny. It seemed to always rear its fickle little head in the face of simpering lovers and starry eyed warriors. And it seemed to enjoy nothing more than smiling at Regina before crushing everything about her.
Destiny took her lover away. Destiny took her son away. Destiny had her walking back home cold and alone in order to form a plan to rescue a woman she despised.
Emma Swan was her destiny apparently. The mewling child had grown into a striking woman with her mother’s eyes, her father’s hair and fortunately none of the traits of either of her grandfathers.
They’d waged war over a long season in Storybrooke were the days grew cold and the leaves fell from the trees for the first time in twenty eight years. And Emma won. Henry made his choice.
And then Swan had to go and be…good. She had to protect Regina over and over again and throw herself in harms way for their son. Regina couldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have.
That was a mark of the weak. Showing kindness and grace to your enemy? It led to crushed hearts in the stable hay.
But Swan acted as though the consequences were not real…or as though…as though she didn’t care about what could happen as long as she did what her conscience demanded.
She had deserved to go tumbling down that portal into the oblivion. Idealism, no matter how masked by churlishness, should meet its end as quickly as possible.
And her mother had gone down too. How fitting! They could spend eternity in darkness talking about how they always did “the right thing” even when it cost others something dear.
Why did Henry have to make this one demand of her? Why did he have to be so innocent and kind and untouched by the ravages of worldliness?
And why did she have to oblige him?
She could have ripped Charming apart and flung Red through the window and whisked Henry away despite his protests. She could have dug into his mind and changed everything that made him good and finally have a son who never looked at her with fear and disdain.
But she would have lost the boy that demanded Emma protect her and the one she’d held in her arms ten years ago and the one who crawled into her laps during thunderstorms when he was three.
She would not lose that boy for all the world.
And if she had to delve into the nothingness of oblivion just to earn his love? She’d do it.