I have feels, okay? I must act on the feels.

I do not own Once Upon a Time.

Cold. That's what this palace was. Cold.

Not in the literal sense; fires roared in each hearth like there was no tomorrow, the curtains were all tightly shut and never once even showed a semblance of a flutter in a wayward breeze. All of the icy winter drafts issuing from balconies and windows had been practically eliminated by a few little spells and the shutting of doors. But Snow White found the austere summer palace where she had spent many of her childhood days positively frigid.

Snow hadn't the slightest idea of what to do without David. She couldn't do much of anything, honestly, not without him. The many people now filling the multitudes of rooms in the great castle needed to see their king and queen as a united front, especially with the proximity of the Evil Qu...of Regina. And now David was running around with royal steeds and vanishing into woods. Right after Snow had told him about the baby. She sighed, pausing in her meander through one of the corridors and resting her back against a wall. Perfect.

Despite the confused thoughts milling around in Snow's mind, she couldn't help the small smile that blossomed unbidden to her lips, a smile like a crocus that bloomed despite the winter storms stamping it down. The baby. Her hands dropped to her protruding stomach, caressing the prominent bump absently. She was getting another chance after all, a chance to make up for all of the things she had lost with Emma. Which was mostly Regina's fault, Snow thought, but also partially David's and her own. They never had to send Emma through the wardrobe. Despite the legitimate reasons Snow knew she could spout off to justify their actions, it still did not change the fact that she and her prince had sent their only child off into the unknown so that she could return and save them all one day.

But no, now was no time for wallowing over something I can't change, Snow decided, metaphorically gritting her teeth. She looked down towards her bulging belly - and also the uncomfortably tight fabric being pulled taut over it. She needed to find something looser to wear, she knew. But where was she to find anything for maternity? This was Regina's castle, not her own - that castle was probably demolished and overgrown still; who knew what lived there now? - so what business would any bigger garments have here? Snow frowned, fidgeting with the lacy white dress in an attempt to weaken its hold on her stomach.

"Please don't tell me that you're going through your too-tight teenage rebellion phase now, of all times," a voice drawled, and Snow's head jerked up to see Regina, drifting around the corner. Almost instinctively, Snow straightened and stiffened at the sight of the other woman, who still rather looked quite queenly, although perhaps not evil anymore.

"You're not funny, Regina," Snow sighed, eying her ex-stepmother with almost lackadaisical suspicion. She knew Regina was trying to change - had changed, really, she was certainly never to be the fully fledged Evil Queen again. The Evil Queen would never have felt so strongly about anyone save Daniel that she would remove her own heart, for heaven's sakes - but she still could never shake the tale as old as time suspicion that the sorceress was up to something.

"I was merely commenting on something you yourself seem to have noticed," Regina retorted, approaching the White queen. Her dark skirt - or was it a cape, or some sort of bustle for pants? Snow had never really grasped the concept of her former nemesis's abstract attire - swept across the floor with a faint echo in the arching corners of the corridor, and when Snow looked at her stomach once more and glanced back up at Regina, the woman's perfectly arched eyebrows were raised quizzically. "That can't be comfortable."

"Not at all," Snow said. "Why do you care?" Because really, what would Regina have to gain from addressing Snow's wardrobe malfunction? Nothing at all.

Regina shrugged her shoulders, an vaguely uncomfortable look darting over her shadowed features before the casual expression returned. "You don't think I'm stupid, do you?" She gestured to Snow's stomach, and Snow could feel a faint flush rise to her cheeks. True, she had only truly confirmed her pregnancy that morning, but she had not been planning to tell Regina. Something about bad luck, having partially lost one child to the Queen's workings before. "I can clearly see that there's going to be yet another Charming running around here with a sword and adoring fans soon."

Before Snow could respond in any form - what was that about adoring fans? - Regina continued, "By the way, it's already the talk of the castle that there's going to be a new prince or princess. If you were trying to keep it a secret, you probably shouldn't have talked to Leroy...or Grumpy, or whatever the dwarf's name is."

Snow couldn't help the little chuckle that burst through her tight lips. "Probably not," Snow agreed. She sighed again, dropping her hands to her sides. "I don't know what I thought it was - post curse bloating, or something?" Regina snorted derisively. Snow's lips quirked up once more. "But I have no idea whatsoever on what I could possibly wear. Nobody else that's ever lived here to leave clothes behind was pregnant, there aren't any seamstresses here yet...What am I supposed to wear, David's nightshirts?"

Regina's eyebrows rose slightly, in...was that amusement Snow detected? This must be some sort of achievement; Snow White amusing her arch enemy - ex arch enemy - the Evil Queen. "No, I suppose not. Although that would be quite a sight to see." Regina paused for a moment, thoughtfulness seeping onto her face. After a moment of silence she spoke up once more.

"If you need it...I think I might have something tucked away that could fit."

Now it was Snow's turn to raise her eyebrows. "You do?"

Regina shot her a disdainful look. "Don't read too much into it, dear. It might hurt your painfully little brain." Before Snow's mouth could even open a little as the jab left Regina's lips, the former queen was already strolling away. "Follow me."

So Snow did, for what had she to lose? Worst came to worst, Regina would try to lock her somewhere, and considering that Snow had lived in the palace before Regina had come to stay, the princess could safely assume that she herself had a handle on all of the escape routes and secret passages in the chrome colored corridors. She followed the dark cloaked woman, matching the sorceress's lazy stride with relative ease. The pair turned down an almost dizzying array of forked hallways and side-alleys and doorways, past the occasional drifting person - who always greeted Snow with a smile and some verbal acknowledgement, and greeted Regina with a furtive look of either confusion, fear, hatred, or a mixture of the three - into parts of the castle that Snow had all but forgotten existed. To be frank, Snow was surprised that Regina had even been in this part of the castle. If she recalled correctly, judging by the increasing height and decreasing temperature, this was nearer to the former servants' quarters than to the royal bedchambers.

Finally, Regina paused at a doorway. Snow looked curiously from the doorway, to Regina, and then back to the doorway.

"Are we here?" she queried after a few moments of her ex-stepmother staring with an ambivalent expression at the old wooden door. Regina turned her head to face Snow, and Snow found herself faintly taken aback at the haunted glaze in Regina's eyes.

"Yes, this is it."

When Regina didn't immediately move, Snow stepped towards the door, raising a hand towards the doorknob, which was almost painfully tarnished. Regina's hand was there in the blink of an eye, batting Snow's hand away like a cat towards a feather.

"No, no, don't touch it," she said, "Don't just...touch." She sent Snow a look. "Haven't we learned our lesson about reaching out and touching objects that we know nothing about?"

Snow's face furrowed in confusion. "It's a doorknob, what harm could it do?"

"It's just a box sitting on a rock in the middle of a suspicious clearing, what harm could it do?" Regina retorted, her voice practically mimicking as she reminded the young woman of the scene in Neverland. Snow sighed. "Point taken..." After a moment, she narrowed her eyes at the queen. "Why, what did you do to the door? Curse it or something?"

Regina shrugged lightly. "Not curse, really. Just...a protection ward I put up after we arrived. Only I can get in. I don't want any peasants going through my things. You would be sent flying."

"And you wouldn't want that?" Snow questioned, her eyebrows rising once again. "That's new."

Regina's eyes rested pointedly on Snow's bump. "I don't need a lynch mob coming after me because their precious Snow White lost her baby because she was 'cursed' by the Evil Queen's magic door."

Snow's hands went instinctively to cradle said bump, and she looked towards the door again, her throat tight. Even the idea of such a terrible thing seemed unspeakable. Regina shook herself slightly, straightening a miniscule amount. "So, if you're done interfering..."

Regina lifted a hand towards the door, carefully pressing the palm of her left hand onto the old wood. A faint golden shimmer ran through the length of the door, and it swung open easily, revealing a chamber that Regina then strode directly into. Snow followed suit.

There wasn't much in the room, at least not to Snow's initial glance. There was a bed - actually, as Snow looked, a bed that might have been her own once, before Regina came to stay and Snow got a larger one as a present from her father - against one wall, a vanity with a small mirror, a larger mirror propped onto the wall, and a onyx colored wardrobe. There was also a large balcony, the only thing that betrayed the chamber to be more than just a random servant's.

"Is this your room, Regina?" Snow asked, eyeing the mirror with faint suspicion. Was that the mirror Regina had always taunted her from? It certainly looked large enough to be.

"It was once," Regina answered shortly, from where she had crossed purposefully to the wardrobe and flung the door open, rummaging through it. "Not anymore, however."

Snow began to move towards Regina, her eyes not missing the veil of dust coating everything and her ears not missing the sound of the creaking floorboards. She had been through most of the rest of the castle; the servants that had remained after the curse had been enacted had kept the castle quite clean. Why hadn't they touched this room?

"Why were you all the way up here by the servants?" she queried, running her fingers along the wrought iron bedposts. Her hand came away coated in gray, clingy dust.

Regina huffed. "Probably because that's all I was...dear."

The pet name was more strained than cynical, and Snow found it even more uncomfortable than usual to hear. Her mind - which was not quite as tiny as Regina consistently implicated it was - leapt forward to a few conclusions, none of which she rather wanted to think about. All she knew was something that was a constant in her life: things were never as they seemed. Maybe Regina hadn't been the happy queen Snow recalled her to be in childhood. But what would she have been a servant for? She wouldn't clean, she wouldn't cook - Oh.

Snow bit down hard on her lip, so hard that she could taste the salty bead of blood pooling on the surface.

"Regina, I -" she started, but Regina raised a hand for her to silence.

"Don't bother. I can practically hear your brain working. I know what you're going to say, and I don't need your pity. Save it for someone who wants it."

Snow exhaled deeply.

"Regina, I don't pity you. That wasn't what I was going to say."

Regina turned, her arms hugging something to her chest and her expression expectant. Snow had expected nothing less.

"Pity is for those who can't help themselves. You can, Regina, I've seen it. You fight for yourself and others because you want to succeed, you want to win, you want to shine. That's not a bad thing."

Regina quirked a brow. "So what were you going to say?"

Snow smiled slightly, her lips quivering. "I was going to say that I felt sorry for you. Sorrow and pity are two different things."

When Regina didn't interject any snark (much to Snow's eternal surprise), Snow's grin grew a tad. "Pity is for the weak when they have lost everything and can do nothing about it. Sorrow is for the strong who have lost everything and yet still fight to get it back."

And then Snow White saw something she had never expected to see, not for a long, long time.

Regina Mills, the Evil Queen, smiled. It was a small smile, nothing for anyone to become extremely excited over, had it been anyone else. But it had been so, so long since Snow had seen a real, genuine smile coming from her ex-stepmother, her former enemy, her current ally and landing on her. To Snow, this was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a long time. To Snow, it meant redemption, forgiveness - something she had yearned to see from the queen for a long time.

For a moment they just stood there, with Regina's faint smile still frozen on her full lips and Snow's hesitant face returning the look. And then the metaphorical spell broke and Regina's lips snapped back into neutral territory. She extended her arms, letting the item that she had removed from the wardrobe unfurl. It was not a new garment, by any means, although that did not for a second mean that it lacked in finery. It was golden and stitched in a way that reminded Snow of the sorceress's mother's clothing - shining thread stitched in shimmering diamond patterns, splendorous but by no means extravagant. It was modest and Snow couldn't resist her impulse to reach out and touch it. She could practically feel Regina rolling her eyes as Snow disobeyed the 'don't touch strange objects' rule.

"It's beautiful," the White princess murmured, her tone practically reverent. Snow looked up into Regina's face then, her expression slightly confused. "But will it fit?"

Regina dipped her head in affirmation. "Yes, it should fit quite nicely. It was made for the same purpose that you are looking for."

Snow could feel her expression growing a little more confused. "But this is yours."

Regina rolled her eyes again. "Yes, Snow. It seems your need to state the obvious lives on."

Snow shook her head slightly, as if to imply that she wasn't finished. She released the dress. "This is a maternity gown...you were pregnant, Regina...?"

Regina shrugged her shoulders and pushed the garment into her former stepdaughter's arms.

"I'm past the stage of moping over things that have absolutely no means of being remedied. Take the dress, or walk around looking like a fat bride. Your decision."

With that Regina left the room, vanishing into the maze of hallways without a trace of purple smoke to indicate her usual means of transportation. Snow stood there alone in the chamber, loosely clutching the golden gown to her chest. She smiled faintly after a while.

The castle, to her, got just a little warmer.

Tell me what you think in a review :)