In the dream Regina was young again, the sting of Daniel's death just barely fading from her untainted heart, the threat of marriage to King Leopold looming over her head-as ominous and haunting as the emergence of the Black Death.
Tinker Bell was smiling at her just in front of the door, the short, golden strands of her hair blowing past her eyes from the harsh wind around them, the same one that tossed Regina's nightgown about her legs and chilled her to the bone as she stood there, shivering.
Within the crowded tavern, past the foggy glass, she could just make out the silhouette of her supposed true love, his back to her, a cotton shirt hanging loosely about his frame as he clinked his glass against another in some sort of merry expression she suddenly wished she knew everything about.
Why was he smiling, she wondered, the corner of his mouth she could hardly see tilted upward? Why was he without his coat in such bitter weather?
The curiosity nearly got the better of her as she placed a trembling hand upon the door knob, ready to walk into the tavern and tap him on the shoulder, ready to meet her new destiny.
But she hesitated.
What if he wasn't her true love? What if he was already in a relationship? What if he died, as Daniel had? What if he was horrified by the dangerous potential resting inside her that she knew would be revealed to any lover, any husband, and even any friend? What if…
Seconds away from pulling her hand away and running back to the castle filled with dread and grief, Regina held her breath. Tink put a warm, soft hand on her shoulder then and gave the most encouraging, hopeful smile she'd ever seen, and her resolve hardened. She pushed her way through the door and into the mass of drinking, laughing women with men's arms loosely tossed around their shoulders, waitresses weaving hastily between the tables.
Regina rushed to him, the one with the lion tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve, dark, swirling ink drawn across the expanse of smooth-looking skin on the underside of his wrist. He was in the middle of proposing another toast when she tapped his shoulder, the ever-lightest touch upon him he'd likely ever felt.
He turned abruptly, startled, with wide, reflective eyes, his cheeks reddened from the alcohol, and perhaps it was the very substance that made his smile so free and inviting. Her heart, for the first time since her last kiss with dear, beloved Daniel, pounded for a reason other than fear, and she laughed along with its rhythm as they all welcomed her to the table like some long-lost friend, his arm placed absently around her waist for the rest of the night. She suspected he didn't even notice he was doing it, but the warmth of his skin felt upon her own was nothing to complain about.
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