Along a soft blue sky, evening was spreading its wings.
The sun glared at her through a row of trees in the distance, as it hovered against the tips of faraway hills.
Regina, atop her mare, had rested to a stop to admire the view before her. It was a pleasant one, too; for soon –on the contrary-
she'd meet the angry clutch of her mother. She had long since abandoned her curfew, ignoring the stable boy's protests as she
took off into what was left of the afternoon, the wind slapping at her shoulders.
And now, aside from her loyal pet, she was alone in the field, and the wind had died to a mere whisper around her.

Shame on you, it whispered, the evening's eyes are wide open; as wide shut as its navy cloak.

Stella grunted against her, her lips curling over the bridle strap. Regina reached down to run her fingers through the wheat
mane, which never seemed to become tangled.

"We'll go home now," she said. "I am in big trouble because of you."

The mare protested, huffing and swinging her head from side to side. Regina laughed, leaning down to cuddle the horse
around her stiff neck. Her smile faded as she felt the rigidness of her dear horse, who seemed to be anxious to the air
around them. She wouldn't ever behave like this. Unless…
Suddenly, with a single prick of the ears, the horse whinneyed loudly and stepped backwards. Her hoof caught at a stray
rock and she bucked, neighing wildly. Regina cried out as she fell; at least her throat vibrated, but she heard nothing. Her ears
rang; green grass spun crazily around her as she landed heavily on her back. Something in her abdomen pinged in the silence
before sending a tidal wave of pain through her body.
But the horse, now much calmer, stayed at her side and nudged her hip with a messy snout as if to apologise. Emitting a groan, Regina feebly extended a hand to pet her mane.
It's okay, girl, she wanted to say. But with her movement, her body buckled with another burst of pain.

"Ouch," she grunted, slamming her head hard against the rocky ground.

"Regina!"

That was her mother.

Cora.

Regina's heart refuelled her blood with a wild pump. She gasped; now she would really be in big trouble... and the horse would
most likely be punished without a verdict. What where the rules, again? No riding for a week? A month? That would be torture.
Regina slowly began working herself into a sitting position. Each shift in her muscles sent missiles of agony through her lower
back, and at her hairline a crown of sweat formed. Turning her jaw to the side, she saw her mother frantically striding towards them.
Her mother's hair had been pinned back neatly,her billowing garments like shields to her rage.

"Back away from my daughter, you filthy beast," Cora snarled as she waved a hand in front of her. A bolt of thunder cracked in the
distance and Stella neighed in fright; taking off into a fierce gallop before them. Regina dragged her chin up to meet the fiery
glaze of her mother's glare.
She expected that same look she was given every night, the one that made her remember who she was.
Instead, Cora looked down at her daughter with loving brown eyes.

"Oh, my sweet daughter," she sighed, her face pained as she knelt to her level.

Regina gave up on her breath, sinking back into the stomach of the land.
Cora slid her hand beneath Regina's head. Her voice was not at all as delicate as the flutter of her eyelashes.

"I gave that useless boyfriend of yours clear instructions," she snapped curtly. "Either he didn't do what I asked, or you ignored him.
Both of you did anyway, it seems. Which is it, Regina?"

"I wanted to ride," was all that Regina could manage as she allowed her head's weight to fill the cup of her mother's palm.
It was temporarily soothing, before another jolt swirled her tailbone; curling around it like a searing ribbon.
With a disapproving cluck of her tongue, Cora canvassed her daughter's motionless body.

"And this is the price of ignorance," she said quietly. "I will not leave your side until you have woken in your bed.
We shall speak again when that time comes."

In all honesty, every word Cora spoke burned her tongue. She wasn't deliberately setting out to be the evil mother
she knew she must appear as. No, it was simpler than that. She loved Regina with all of the space of where her heart
should have been. If she had had her heart, however, it would be thumping furiously, like a bull preparing to charge.
Regina would eventually have to grow to her fate, even if it meant cracking the whip from all angles like a persistent blizzard.
Such a child she could be, but what a beautiful woman she had grown to be; alas, beauty was not enough to withhold a
kingdom beneath her boot. That part required skills extracted from the basis of discipline. A queen, yes, would have no business
for her own curfew, but the feeble curfew plan was beginning to frazzle from all corners. She needed a new one, at least until
Regina could look at her mother with eyes darker than the obsidian necklace she wore; eyes that told her she was ready for
her fate as the magnificent dark queen.
A throne could only hold so much fire until it turned to ash that was easily shifted.
With the convenience of magic she was able to scoop her daughter up completely into her arms, hefting her so that her jaw
rested carefully against the lapels of her cloak. Slowly, she stroked Regina's messy locks slick with sweat.

"You foolish girl," she whispered, gazing down at her daughter whose eyes were hooded by her thick eyelashes.
"You foolish girl...whom I love more than you'll ever come to know."

The walk back to the farmhouse was not at all as long as the silence that followed like a shadow behind him.
Regina was not asleep, for the pain she carried was too awakening. Instead, through hooded eyelids, she scanned the
empty field around them with sadness. From this angle, the grass looked almost untouched; as if the endless minutes of
riding were mere wisps of a memory.
She wanted now to chuckle at the irony of the situation. Hadn't she, only moments before, held her sweet horse around her
neck as a gesture of comfort? Now, in the repercussions of her selfishness, she was now holding Cora around her neck; which
was equally as rigid.
Her mother's breath was heavy; with exercise, or the unkempt rage she intended on releasing once they were indoors again?
Now her cheeks seared once more with embarrassment. She was a year away from becoming an adult; that said, far too old to
be held like a baby. But that was what it felt like. Another day, another disappointment. She would never marry the king, as her
mother had encouraged endlessly for weeks now. How would she expect to find happiness, let alone love, with a man she had never spoken two words to before the alter?
Regina's breath reached a hitch. Cora halted in her steps.

"What is it, darling?" she murmured softly.

Instead of meeting her mother's gaze, she concentrated on the fine embroidery of her lapel; tracing each stitch slowly with her eyes.

"I'm sorry-"

"Please don't." Cora continued to walk. Her voice was curt, and that meant "please don't talk until I, to you."
If anger were tangible, the fields would be painted red and wooden fence dripping black. Cora walked as she would through fire;
stiff strides, lingering occasionally to refuel her rage at the circumstances brewing in the dead wind.
Just as they'd reached the gates that would lead them from the paddocks, Regina took one last weary glance at the field, and fell.
She fell so that the grass spun black, and even the dying sun.

The world seeped back into Regina's pores. A dust of sunlight? The subtle sprinkling of a bird's choir.
Without opening her eyes she knew she was nowhere near the field. The fresh-cut lawn was nowhere to be found in her
senses, was no match for the peppery scent of her body powder. And her sheets; her sheets which carried the smell of farm air
and fabric softened always seemed to be washed and assembled before she'd had even the chance to use them.
And she admitted now, even with her screaming back, it was heavenly to be back in her own bedroom.
Curious to the condition of her wound, she reached beneath the covers to find that she was completely nude, and drew the blanket
right up to her chin with fright.
Her mother had undressed her? Of course, to check for the injury of her lower back. The injury itself felt better than she
remembered it did, only her hot skin was sensitive to the touch.
Regina winced, once again urging herself to a sitting position as the door to her room croaked open slowly.
Cora was holding Regina's riding blue jacket folded over one arm, her riding crop in the other.

"No riding for a month," was how she greeted her daughter.

She had expected this. She made no response as she angled her back to lean against the wooden headboard. It creaked slightly.

"No riding for a month," Cora continued, as she stepped further into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. "And from then on, you will be escorted for each lesson. Until you can prove to me you are fit for your…hobby."

"I was always fit for it!" Regina protested, ignoring the whistle of pain through her body. "We were doing just fine, until the thunder-"

Cora chuckled. "Oh yes, the thunder. So if a simple weather alteration is what it takes to finally get your attention, then so be it."

Regina's heart sank. Slowly, she dared herself to meet the eye of her darkening mother.

"YOU set that thunderbolt off?"

Cora's grin widened. "You didn't think it might be unnatural for one to occur on such a fine evening? Oh my dear and naïve
daughter… you have absolutely no idea of what I'm capable of."

Regina slid down against the pillows, preparing herself for what was to come.
Cora stepped around the bed, and tossed carelessly her daughter's riding jacket onto the duvet at Regina's lap.
Wrapped inside were articles of Regina's undergarments; soft, pink lace which seemed to glow scarlet along with her cheeks.

She imagined herself, dead to the world, as her mother had undressed her. Every piece of fabric had been peeled away.
Her nude body peeled like a precious fruit before her mother's eyes. Regina slipped further beneath the covers until the duvet
nipped at her lower lip.

"I only wish you'd told me you possessed such fine embroidery," Cora purred, her eyes too on the lingerie before them. You would have looked much finer with your eyes open; and…open to me."

Regina's gaze switched from her underwear, to Cora, then back to her underwear.

"Oh…" she could only feebly manage. Her fingers curled tightly around the top of the sheets.

"Now, let's not dillydally, dear. Off with those sheets, girl. Let's see how your back is doing."

"I need to get changed first."

Cora cocked her jaw slightly.
"No, my daughter, that is unnecessary. I have seen it all. Let's not waste time."

Regina froze, her eyes locked upon Cora's gentle smirk. Was this a punishment? As if to agree, her heart began racing with anticipation.

Slowly, Cora closed her eyes. She could feel it, too; two beats at a time, like a battle song.

"When are you ever going to be at complete ease with me?" her mother said, this time sounding genuinely hurt. Her brow folded
with a small frown.

It was a valid question, Regina found. After all, Cora had taken care of her up until now; but if it weren't for her medalling
with thunder, she wouldn't have to be looked over like some disobedient invalid whose only choice was to submit to her mother.

With a sigh, Regina shakily began peeling away the first sheet before Cora's eyes.

Cora watched her daughter, with embarrassment, unwrap herself like a sweet. She was shy, that much was clear. But of what?
Her beauty? Any king who would deny her Regina would be a fool, and a blind one at that. In all truthfulness, she did not want a
single king touching her; which is why she had abandoned her sole plan. Snow's presence in this affair would not be needed,
it would only cause issues. Regina would always be hers, and in more ways than one.

"Quit stalling," she found herself saying. This was taking far too long.

Now the top half of her daughter's body was exposed. Hitching her breath slowly, she stepped closer to the bedside and laid
a gentle hand upon Regina's shoulder. Regina did not flinch, only averted her gaze until she had unwrapped herself completely
from the bed sheets.
Cora had to hold back a purr in her throat. As she had first carried Regina into her room after the….accident, she had had to control her hands immensely as she undressed her daughter, occasionally pausing to cup her impeccable breasts and to run her hands along the wonderful curve of her waist.
Regina's skin was flawless in all its beauty, a single small mole beneath her left breast being the only alteration in her smooth toffee skin.

Carefully and without words, Cora helped turn Regina onto her stomach, her fingers curling softly around her smooth waist.
She inhaled the sweet peppery scent of her skin as she did so, finding that she had to further contain a satisfied murmur at the back of her throat. Her cheeks tingled to life.

"Ouch," Regina murmured into her pillow.

"Shhh," Cora soothed her daughter with a firm brush of her fingers, gliding them down to her lower back where she was sure the
damage was done.

"Is this where it hurts?"

"Mmh… yes…"

Cora lowered herself onto the bed, keeping her other hand anchored at Regina's hip.

"Oh my poor daughter," she sighed, kissing the back of Regina's neck through her dark hair. As soon as she did, she felt a jolt
of excitement race through her chest. She kissed again, murmuring through the dark locks that carried a faint scent of apples.
Against her lips, Regina stiffened.

"Mother?" she croaked, trying to turn her jaw against the pillow.

"Hold still," Cora said quietly, now closing her hand around Regina's soft waist. "I'm going to make you feel better."