So this is my newest SwanQueen idea, and YES it will be SwanQueen.
This story has more of a serious tone, and I warn you now, that Regina's King does abuse her to start out with. It's extremely sad and hard to write but it's needed for the story.
Stick with me on this-i know it's going to turn out great and it's already so incredible to write.
Unfortunately for me, I don't own Once Upon A Time (if i did SwanQueen would have been canon from Episode 1.)
Review for me? I'd really like to know you you think!
Note that constructive criticism is different from tearing the story down.
and if you don't like SwanQueen-don't read the story.
This is not a smut story by any means but i'm rating it M just in case.
Chapter 1:
Regina sat at her mirror in the bedroom she shared with the King, slowly dragging a brush through her long black hair. She shivered, lightly. Though her dress was long and so were the sleeves, the room was still a little cold. There was a bit of heat emitting from the fire place, but it didn't help much.
The bedroom wasn't exactly large—though her husband was a king, he wasn't of a major Kingdom. No king such as someone like King Leopold, (who had just lost his dear wife only months before Regina's engagement—how Regina's mother Cora had hoped and prayed for King Leopold to ask for Regina's hand, aware it was a long shot).
It was a shame to Cora, really, that Regina's husband couldn't have had more power—been a bit more influential in the magical world. All Cora had ever wanted for Regina was power, strength, and wealth. The three things Cora had been denied of, being the miller's daughter.
Though Regina was only seventeen, when King Arik Valentin asked for her hand in marriage her mother accepted for her immediately, to Regina's dismay. Despite pointless efforts of Cora's constant badgering, Regina had no interest in power or wealth, and absolutely no interest in the king, who was a good twenty years older than she.
So Regina let out a deep sigh as she untangled her long and enchanting locks, wishing for the billionth time that week that she hadn't been abandoned by the one man she had thought she loved. She wished her mother hadn't scared Daniel away with her ruthless behavior and talk of a higher social class.
Like she's better than everybody. Regina thought a bit sullenly. As if I'm above loving a stable boy. Why couldn't she have left well enough alone? At least I would have led a more enjoyable life; poor or not wouldn't have mattered to me. It doesn't matter.
There was a knock at the hard wood door, interrupting the Queen's thoughts. Slowly, she gathered her thick hair into a bun on her head and pinned it there, setting down her brush.
"You may enter," she allowed. One of the servants did so, bowing as she spotted Regina.
Regina let out a soft sigh. "I've told you, Ashlyn, you need not to bow to me if we're alone."
Ashlyn the servant stood from her bow. "Yes, your majesty. King Valentin sent me to fetch you for dinner,"
Inwardly, Regina cursed herself for letting the time get away from her again. She spent too much time thinking about Daniel. It had been a year already—she knew he wasn't going to come back. She stood with her heart pounding. Her King would not be pleased that she was late for yet another meal.
As she sat down at the long table with her parents and husband of six months, she was upset to find that he did look very frustrated with her. She tried to feign a small apologetic smile. Her smile was neither accepted nor was it acknowledged. Instead, Arik grumbled, "You're late, Regina. Again, you are late. There should be no reason as to why you are always late."
Regina tried not to wince at the sound of his anger; he was a large man, Arik, and much larger than she. It was more often than not that when they were alone in their bedroom Regina paid for her "un-Queen-like actions" of the day. Virtually everything she did seemed like the wrong thing to do. These days, she couldn't breathe without being scolded by her mother or worse by Arik. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that if she wasn't careful he may beat her to death. Had her mother not captured power by obtaining magic from Rumplestiltskin –if not for her family's gold and Regina's gorgeous features—he would not have married her at all. There was no love between them—but that didn't stop him from using her every night for his pleasure. It actually terrified her to be alone with him.
What she really wanted to say, "A Queen is never late—everyone else is simply early," she very well knew she could not risk. Had it been Queendom, yes, she could say whatever she pleased. But in this castle, where she lived, in this Kingdom, the King was in charge. It was Regina's job to do as he told her and be his love toy; no more, no less.
She despised her mother for forcing this cruel fate upon her.
"It is not lady like nor is it proper to be always tardy," he spoke again. Superficially, Regina seemed poised and unfazed by his harsh tone. On the inside she wanted to curl up and hide—cry, really. She wanted to cry—but she recognized that no good could ever come from tears and anyways it would hurt her more than help her.
"You have my deepest apologies, my King." Regina finally spoke. "Time seems to have escaped me, and—"
"Yes," Arik chewed his meal, looking carnivorous as ever. "That was your excuse the last time. As well as the time before."
It is the truth! Regina thought heatedly to herself. This is nonsense. A Queen should not have to fear her own husband. She should not tremble at the thought of sleeping in her own bed.
What she said aloud was, "I'll not let my mind wander once more,"
"You'll be sure of it," his tone implied what she had worried he meant. She would likely earn the same punishment, if not worse, than she had received the last time she had done something he didn't find appropriate.
As if anything he does to me is ever appropriate.
Cora and Henry just sat silently, allowing husband and wife to speak. Cora saw the fear in her daughter's eyes and shoved it aside. This was for the greater good. She needed to learn to rule with an iron fist, like Arik did. All he was doing was teaching her to be a fine Queen, and though his words could sometimes sound rough, he seemed fair.
Regina ate her dinner slowly, yet quickly recognized that delaying may worsen the situation.
As much as Regina hated to admit it to even herself, she was afraid. Afraid mostly of his power, what she knew he was capable of doing, and of what she knew was expected of her, even at such a young age as seventeen.
It wasn't as if she had never expressed such emotions to Cora so much as it was that Cora never once listened. She got the same response every time, "Whether you are Queen or not, Regina, speaking ill of your King in that way qualifies as treason. You should learn to keep your opinions to yourself if you know what's best for you."
Her words were loosely translated to what Regina knew was meant to mean, "You will rule with Arik, he will teach you to be stronger and wiser and more courageous and it is what's best for you if you want to be everything I need you to be."
But I don't want power, or glory. I only wish for true love.
After dinner, the king excused himself and his Queen to their bed chambers. Regina's stomach knotted tightly. She was seventeen. She was young, too young and he was about to do things that she shouldn't have been forced to do—not when she wasn't even qualified as an adult.
Arik shut the door tightly and she faced the bed; her heart pounding ever so rapidly she feared it may actually fall out of her chest. No matter what she tried, she could not control it—could not relax herself before he noticed her.
"You fear me, woman?" his voice was low and dark.
Regina took a deep breath and swallowed, outwardly keeping her composure. "Of course not, my King,"
"You lie," he retorted, taking her small arms in his strong grip. A squeak caught in her throat. She willed herself not to fight him. After six months of dealing with this, she hated herself for not being used to him by now, but every time he touched her she got frightened all over again. It wasn't like Regina to be frightened—not so easily, anyways.
Arik's grip tightened and Regina tried to remain impassive, tilting her head back and allowing him to kiss her neck. His kiss was rough and wet and she detested it with a deep passion but dared say not a word—move not an inch. His fingers moved slowly to the back of her dress and he unlaced it. After which Regina became numb, knowing the routine by now and giving into it. She had learned from the beginning that the more she fought it the more it would hurt her. What made the pain even more unbearable was that his touch never turned her on to him, only ever frightened her, and though it was something she was learning to cope with, that didn't make her any less broken when he was done taking his pleasure in her.
After he had finished with her for the night (she had been as quiet as she could, afraid of what he'd do if so much as a whimper escaped her) he flipped her roughly to face him and grabbed her waist tightly, squeezing it as he spoke to her. His large fingers were definitely leaving bruises but he was wise about the placement of such marks—these ones would always be hidden by her clothing, only to ever be seen by him.
"I grow tired of your games, Regina. I don't care how old you are, I will not dismiss you anymore. You are my wife, you are the Queen, and you will act like it. Am I understood?" his fingers dug deeper into her skin and her breath caught. Any harder and he could have very easily snapped a rib or more in her body.
"Yes, Arik, I'll do as is expected of me," a single tear slid down her cheek against her will and luckily for her, he dismissed the "sign of weakness" as he was too distracted with trying to get his point across to her.
"Promise it to me, now. Swear to it, Regina," he growled. "You will be the best Queen you can be—the best wife you can be—and I will no longer take anything less than that."
A bead of sweat dripped down her naked back even though she was shivering and she was fairly certain that she was bleeding again where blood should only appear once a certain time of month. She ached horribly and wished for nothing but an end to this torture.
She missed Daniel's light touch to her body, and his gentle yet energetic kisses which they used to sneak between meals and tea times. She missed how he made love to her the way a man should—tender and kind—as opposed to the barbaric way that Arik always took her. She knew that she was trapped.
Broken and trapped.
"I promise, Arik," she gasped out. "I swear to it, I will be your ideal Queen—your ideal—wife—"
He relinquished his hold on her and stood from the bed, redressing carefully. He looked down at the sheets behind him and rolled his eyes. "You're bleeding," he said with such utter annoyance—as if it was her fault that he was so brutal with such a small and breakable woman.
Regina knew she need not bother to look down. She merely closed her eyes in able to compose herself, willing the tears stinging the backs of her eyelids not to spill over else she knew she'd likely be hit.
"I'll be going to the tavern," he announced and left without saying another word to her. She assumed he would be in a drunken state when he returned and prayed he would be too tired to hurt her any further.
What, my love, no kiss fare the well?Regina thought bitterly, forcing herself into a sitting position despite such discomfort and eventually, with some difficulty, she managed to stand. Finding a nightdress draped over the chair in front of her mirror—the one where she had rested so peacefully to comb through her hair and reminisce about Daniel so few hours ago—she slipped it on over her body and rung the bell to signal for Ashlyn to come.
The servant girl was at the door almost immediately. "Your majesty?" Ashlyn remembered this time not to bow, however still tilted her head down, slightly.
People were always calling her that—"your majesty" and "Queen Valentin", and she supposed they did so because according to the Kingdom that's what she was. However Regina had never felt like royalty a day in her life.
"Draw me a warm bath, Ashlyn, would you please, dear?" Regina managed to speak without bursting into a fit of choked sobs. "And I'm afraid these sheets must be replaced…once again…"
"Yes, my Queen," was what she heard as a response.
. . .
Regina removed the night dress with careful hands and stood in front of a body-length mirror by the wash tub and examined her wounds from the night's previous actions. Indeed, dark, grotesque-looking finger marks formed as large bruises on both sides of her waist but that was the only physical damage that was noticeable to the human eye. It was all that was noticeable to her eye, in any case. She inhaled sharply and regretted the action immensely—she was obviously quite internally bruised. It felt to her as if someone had taken a very heavy block and pounded it against her being as hard as they were capable of doing. She couldn't complain though, for she was very aware that he could have done much worse and probably would have, had his intentions to intoxicate himself not taken over his want to cause her pain.
With a long exhale of air, forced, mind you, and a slight wince at the stab of pain said action caused her, Regina let her hair down and watched as it cascaded down her back. Cautiously, she stepped into the tub of warm water and lowered herself in, biting her fist to suppress a groan and wondering if it would ever get easier to live in such conditions. She figured it was going to have to be. She was stuck like this now—there was no way out.
. . .
Arik returned home very early into the morning and Regina was fast asleep on her side of the bed, curled up into a fetal position. She looked frightened to death and this fact pleased her King. It was far better to be feared than loved, especially when he was raised to rule with an iron fist. His Queen would learn to obey—she would learn that he was not to be made a fool or embarrassment out of when she was late for a meal or spoke her opinion.
He was drunk and sleepy and he collapsed onto the bed and turned to face her, half tempted to wake her and take her one last time. But he didn't have the energy to do such things. Instead, he reached out in front of him and smacked her rear, forcefully.
Regina woke with a start, her eyes widened in shock. Arik had quite obviously returned and was ready to please himself with her once more. She froze, thinking to herself that perhaps if he thought her to still be asleep, he would just leave her be.
It was all he needed to do to get his point across—he watched as her body tensed and he knew she got the message.
She closed her eyes quickly and held herself closer, her muscles tightened and throbbing. She fell asleep thankful—he didn't touch her again.
so...thoughts? please? Chapter 2 will be up soon. ~~hayleynymphadora