She'd never wanted another wedding. A marriage, maybe—a civil ceremony down at the Town Hall, with their sons and nobody else. Not even the Charmings, not even Emma, not even the Merry Men, because once you begin to invite, where do you stop? And she did not, absolutely, did not want another huge, lavish, public affair of a wedding.
She'd done that once, and she has no desire to walk back down that path.
She'd just wanted… them.
But Robin… Robin had wanted, well, everyone. He'd wanted to share their love with the whole damn town, to invite the Merry Men, and the dwarves, and the goddamn jolly postman for good measure. He'd wanted a celebration worthy of the grand love they had for each other, he'd told her.
In the end, they'd both had to compromise.
They'd chosen outdoor—a must for him, and a novelty for her, with a view of the hills and the trees, and the open sky. The wedding party had been small—just Roland with the rings, Henry standing up for her and John standing up for him. There had been a party—lively, with music and dancing and fairy lights, and, as it turns out, just the right amount of people. Not every single person in town, but every single person they love, and a few that they might only say they like but felt the need to invite nonetheless.
It had been nothing like her first wedding, and really nothing like his, either.
She'd worn a dress that was full but not ridiculously so, and white but not virginal. He'd worn a suit for the first time ever in the years they've known each other, and Regina had been glad they hadn't gone for a religious ceremony or she might be headed straight to hell for all the things she'd realized she wants to do to him in a suit.
And she will do those things, later, once they've sent everybody home.
But for now, she has the trees, and the open sky, and the people who love them. And him. An arm around her waist as he floats her around the makeshift dance floor to a song she can barely hear, she's so consumed with the perfection of the moment they've made for themselves. The life they've made.
She smiles, and tells him, "Thank you for today. Thank you for all the days."
Robin's lips curve, those dimples popping the way she so loves, and he tells her, "Thank you for sharing them with me, my love."
And then she's falling, the world tilting and spinning as he drops her into a dip and presses his lips to hers. She holds tight to him, and kisses back, and is so, so grateful.
She'd never wanted another wedding, but luckily for Regina Mills, the fates aren't always interested in giving you what you want—something she's been acutely aware of for her whole life. Usually, when her hopes had been dashed or her soul crushed by wanting something and having to settle for less. For loss.
She's used to the fates doing her wrong, but not this time.
This time, they haven't given her what she'd wanted. They've given her so much more.