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“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
7 Years Post Wedding
August was in the middle of putting finishing touches on the Duchess’ upcoming speech when there was a knock on his open office door.
“Give me a minute.”
“Is that any way to talk to your boss?”
He banged his knee against the desk in his hurry to stand, “Shi- My apologies Your Royal Highness, I wasn’t aware we had a meeting today.”
The Duchess of Storybrooke waved it away, “We don’t. But, well, I was wondering, you ride right?”
“I’m sorry ma’am?”
“Motorcycles. You ride motorcycles right? It’s just, I see you show up on one some days.”
He struggled to follow the conversation, feeling like more of an observer than participant. “Uh yea, I mean yes I do. Ma’am.”
“Well, it's settled then.” Emma sat down the book on German history she had been examining, turning to him and rubbing her hands together with a childish sort of glee.
“What is ma’am?”
“I want to learn how to ride, you know how to, I trust you more than anyone so you’re gonna teach me. How’s Tuesday and Thursday mornings? I figured out that they usually don’t schedule me for stuff than, which means you shouldn’t be doing anything at that time either.”
“Well-” He stuttered, blinking.
“I gotta go hash some things out with the chef, I don’t know what he’s been putting in the food lately but it has my stomach all messed up. I’ll see you Tuesday though.”
“What the-” And with a grin she was gone.
——
“...up 4%. And that is all parliament has for Her Majesty today.” Prime Minister Hopper removed his glasses.
Regina nodded, “Good. It sounds as though everything is in order than.” She reached for the bell to alert one of the attendants.
“Well, officially it is. On a more private and personal matter however, the Cabinet and I, as well as members of parliament were distressed when we were made aware of the Duchess of Storybrooke’s new… hobby.” Minister Hopper rubbed at his glasses as he said it.
“Oh?”
“Yes ma’am. I don’t want you to think that-that we don’t trust the Duchess, or yourself ma’am, to make decisions when it comes to these personal matters. However…”
“However?” Regina urged, a trace of annoyance in her voice.
“We in the government don’t think it is a good idea for the Duchess to be riding motorcycles.”
“And why not? I think we all know that she has the best safety equipment imaginenable.”
“That’s not quite it ma’am. It’s more so, with, as the mother of, of the future king, we find it distressing that she be placed in any unreasonable harm.”
A dark chuckle filled the room. “Prime Minister you are aware that when we were first married, to celebrate, the Duchess jumped out of a plane, correct?”
“Yes ma’am I am. At the time however you were second in line-”
“And correct me if I’m wrong, but jumping out of a plane if it goes wrong, has a higher mortality rate.”
“It does.”
“So why can’t my wife, simply because she is the mother of the future king go for a ride every once in a while.”
Minister Hopper sighed, hating that he had been overruled in the last Cabinet meeting. Hating that he had to have this conversation with a Queen he admired, and cared about. “Well we, we were worried about if something did go wrong, the crown prince’s emotional and mental well being. As well as, if god forbid something were to happen to both the crown prince and the Duchess, well, with your health issue,”
“The crown would be left without a direct heir.” Regina looked down, twirling her emerald wedding ring. Her embarrassment was clear as day and he had to look away. “Yes, I, now I see. I will talk to the Duchess.” Without waiting for a response the button was pressed immediately.
“Uh, thank, thank you ma’am.” Standing with the help of his cane, the Prime Minister bowed, “Your Majesty.”
——
“Oh hello there.”
“Hey. Long day?”
“Quite.”
“I’m only here to grab…” Emma looked around her bed chamber, before her face lit up. She clapped her hands and grabbed the item that she had been looking for, “My helmet! I’m gonna go practice with August, but I should be back in time for dinner.”
“Yes about that.” Regina put down the pen, setting aside the letter she had been writing.
“Dinner? Regina you of all people should know I’ll eat anything.” Emma teased.
“I’m very much of aware of your taste dear, but I was referring to the lessons.”
The levity on Emma’s face fell away as she sat the helmet down on her own desk. “Fantastic.” She muttered.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Regina argued.
Emma ran a hand through her hair, pacing around in a circle, “You haven’t taken an interest in them so far so if you are now, that probably means this conversation isn’t going to go well for me.”
“Fine. They have to end.”
“That’s it. They have to end. No explanation.”
“Prime Minister Hopper and the rest of cabinet think it’s dangerous to put the mother of the future king in unnecessary risk.”
“He has two moms.”
Regina bit her lip, then straightened her shoulders to truly look at her wife. Having to say it once was embarrassing enough, she would not repeat herself. “But only one of whom can give him a sibling, or provide a spare heir.”
Emma paused. All thoughts of motorcycles left her mind. Making her way across the room Emma extended her hand to her wife, raising an eyebrow until she took it. Leading Regina to the couch in their shared sitting area, the blonde sat them down, never letting go of the manicured hand in her own.
Taking a deep breath, Emma let it out slowly and turned to look into the Queen’s eyes. “I’ll stop with the lessons.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Regina lifted her free hand to cup a red tinged cheek, whether from anger or some other feeling she didn’t know.
“I don’t care Regina. I’ll stop.” She leaned forward to gently kiss red lips, pulling back only slightly, their foreheads remaining joined, “I’ll stop.”
“You shouldn’t have to keep giving up pieces of yourself because I can’t do the one thing I was born to do.” It was an apology, self loathing, and a realization that nothing would change, all wrapped into one.
“And you need to stop reducing yourself to a faulty incubator.”
“Why not? That’s how everybody else sees me. Do you know how embarrassing it was for the Prime Minister of my government to think that he has the right to bring up my ‘health issue’.”
“I don’t see you as that. He may be the Prime Minister but remember who you are.”
“A simple woman.”
“The fucking Queen.” Emma asserted, squeezing the hand held in her own.
“Yes I‘m the Queen Emma, and that’s the only reason we’re having this conversation.”
“Fine,” Emma slid of the couch, kneeling down before her wife, before her Queen. “So I know you’re the Queen, and you know you’re the Queen, so why don’t you go out there and show them that.”
——
“The Duchess of Storybrooke, upon the earning of her motorcyle liscence, is to become Patron of the Motorcycle Safety Fund.
Her Royal Highness, with the support of Her Majesty, is delighted to be a part of an organization that strives to encourage safety and proper motorcycle training.
Future engagements will be announced as appropriate.”
“How dare she,” the Foreign Minister spat, drawing mummers of agreement from some of the other Cabinet members. “Who does she think she is?”
Hands clasped in front of his face, the Prime Minister smiled.