Major spoilers from the episode entitled "Lily". If you haven't watched, you may not want to read.
It's the sniffling that alerts her that something is amiss, and she gazes across the back yard, attempting to locate the source of the sound.
There. Behind the rose bushes, hunched on the ground. Pink dress, ruffled socks now caked with dirt, face buried within arms that hug her knees, hair the color of a sunset framing her small body. She makes her way in the girl's direction, sitting down in the grass beside her as she collects this child she never expected to her chest. Tears seep through her blouse, and she kisses the top of her head, inhaling the scent of lavender that has somehow comforted this child since the day they brought her home.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Regina questions, wincing at the sobs emanating from a frame too small to absorb them. "Why are you out here all by yourself?"
She senses the girl wipe her nose on her sleeve before eyes identical to father's gaze back at her, blue orbs red from weeping, pale cheeks splotched and damp.
"I'm scared," she whispers over her quivering chin, the last word dissolving into a sniff and a hiccup.
"Of what?" Regina questions, pulling her closer into her side. "What frightened you so badly?"
Blue eyes fall to the grass, and she bites her bottom lip, yet another gesture so mindful of the man who gave her life.
"Me," the girl admits, her reply barely audible. "I'm afraid of me."
Sharp pain nearly knocks her over, and she turns her child to face her directly, tilting her chin upwards until their eyes finally lock.
"And why, Merida Locksley, would you be afraid of yourself?"
Merida's brow scrunches together forming a pout all too reminiscent of the Mills women for Regina's liking.
"You know why, Mommy," she sighs just as she wipes her nose yet again. "Because of…because of her."
"You mean Zelena?"
It always strikes her when Merida refuses to speak her biological mother's name, and she watches as the girls face contorts in disgust.
"Yeah," Merida whispers. "What if I'm just like her?"
"You're not," Regina assures her, wiping her cheek with the pad of her thumb. "You're just like you and only you, sweetheart. I've told you this before."
"But what if I'm no good?" Merida asks. "What if I'd rather be like you? Can't you make my hair black so we match?"
Regina gathers the long waves into her hand, running her fingers through silken fire.
"You're very good," Regina states, her eyes set and direct. "Good just the way you are. And why would I change you? You have the most beautiful hair I've ever seen. I wish mine were more like it."
The girl sniffles and nearly laughs, staring back at her mother in disbelief.
"No you don't," Merida retorts. "Yours is perfect. Just like Roland's. Mine's just all messed up. Like hers."
"Yours is the color of wildflowers," Regina states, twisting a wild lock around her finger. "And of autumn leaves. And of Auntie Mal's cat you love so much."
Pink lips twitch upwards at this, and the girl takes in a fortifying breath.
"I just," she begins, sitting up as tall as her little body will let her. "I just don't want to hurt people like she did."
"What have I told you, sweetheart?" Regina asks, cupping her face gently. "At least one hundred times?"
Merida stares back at her, her eyes dropping to the white trim of her dress just before she answers.
"Evil isn't born," she mutters under her breath. "It's made."
"Precisely," Regina assures her. "I know from experience. Trust me." She pauses, touching her forehead to Merida's until the child actually smiles. "Besides, your father and I love you to the moon and back. That's never going to change."
Merida pulls back at this, her expression suddenly wary.
"But it might," the child states. "Because of her."
"Merida, I've already told you…"
"No," the girl cuts in. "Not her…her."
A small hand comes to rest on her stomach, and Regina stares back at the child in wonder, realization taking root one inch at a time. She hasn't even shared her suspicion with Robin, terrified it might prove unfounded after all of the false hopes they've experienced over the years. She shivers from top to bottom, shaking her head without thinking.
"Who?" she whispers, watching as Merida rolls her eyes.
"The baby. My little sister. What if you love her more?"
She swallows hard, her own hand joining her daughter's just above where new life grows.
"I mean, she's really yours," Merida continues. "And she'll be like you. But I'm just, I'm just…"
"My daughter," Regina interrupts, her tone unyielding. "By choice. Never forget that, Merida Grace. I chose to be your mother. I didn't have to be—I wanted to be."
"But when you have another daughter…"
"No buts," Regina cuts in, stroking the girl's long locks. "I didn't give birth to Henry or Roland, but they are both my sons, and I won't love them any less when…"
She pauses, her breath hitching in her throat.
"When this baby is born." Merida stares back at her wordlessly as she worries her bottom lip yet again. "How did you know, by the way?" Regina asks her. "I haven't said anything about her to anyone."
Little shoulders lift as eyes round in her direction.
"I just feel her," the girl explains, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Don't you?"
She does, she realizes, a stirring, a lightness, a spark of energy that had not existed until just weeks ago. Her own eyes well up, and she hugs the girl to her, whispering a silent prayer that her own two daughters can form a bond very different than one that existed out of spite.
"How does she feel to you?" Regina questions, curious and half-terrified at what the child's response will be. Merida crinkles her nose just before she smiles, reaching out to touch her mother's face.
"Beautiful," she whispers, effectively pulling the tears from Regina's eyes. She pulls Merida up into her lap, kissing mussed curls, allowing her tears to fall into the girl's hair.
"Just like her sister, then," Regina breathes, reveling the warmth that spreads through her, marveling at this second chance given to a different set of Mills women, hoping to God she can get it right.