The Swan Princess

-12-

Growing up in a castle, Eva would have never imagined a life less than luxurious. Of course, living one didn't bother the princess at all. The cottage which had housed her father and mother for the last ten years was a wonderful change compared to a castle with the highest walls a child could ever imagine. 

Emma had hoped for the return of her children so much that when they arrived at their home, their own bedrooms were furnished and ready for them. Henry's room was adjacent to Eva's, with a bed large enough for a growing man and some of his favorite books which Emma had found in a satchel he had brought from Storybrooke. 

Eva's room was a different story. A window facing a stream that ran near the cottage sat wide open, allowing light to shine on the various toys which had been both magically and physically crafted by her own parents. Her bed was decorated with a flowing canopy from the top. There was no evidence that the room had nobody living in it;  it seemed to Eva that her mother had come into her room every single day for the last ten years to clean it, in the hopes that her lost princess would come home to her.

It was near dusk when Eva finally left her room, changed into a fresh pair of clothes. She had never worn jeans before, and where her mother got them or how they were exactly her size were beyond her. To the princess, they were the best invention known to man. 

The stream that flowed nearby was quiet, save for the sound of the crickets chirping in the forest around it. Eva sat upon a rock which was raised just enough out of the water that she could stay dry. She sat for what seemed like forever, marvelling in her surroundings, and the lack of sadness filling her life. 

Even the crickets had stopped chirping when Eva returned to reality. Everything seemed dead around her, and she felt exhausted. At that moment, a song came to her head. She didn't know where it was from, or how she knew the words. But in an instant, her mouth was moving, singing a tune she didn't recognize.

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep, my little baby.

When you wake, you shall have

all the pretty little horses."

----------------------------------------------------

"...all the pretty little horses."  Emma finished off her lullaby with a sad note.

"Well, I can't say I've heard much singing in my lifetime, but that was awful." Zephyra cackled. Emma glared at her from inside the dungeon, but refused to reply and looked away. 

"I sang it to her the night she was born." she whispered as she stared blankly at the stone wall in front of her. "The first night I got to hold her in my arms. I had three days with her." Tears were falling slowly from her cheeks. She couldn't bring herself to look at the woman who had stolen her child from her, though the pent up rage from ten years told her that she could strangle her at any given moment. 

"I never sang to her. I could've been a good mom. Maybe it's because my mother never sang to me." Zephyra speculated for a second, before she felt the slightest twinge of... Remorse? No. Impossible. She was the Queen of All Darkness. She didn't have time for simple human emotions. But she could not shake the feeling, and then her eyes were watering. Zephyra, the evilest of them all, was crying.

So two mothers sat in darkness, one crying for the loss of her child, the other crying for the loss of her childhood.