A/N: This is a backstory for Regina. I don't think we were even halfway through the first season before I started writing this. Because this is an ongoing series, my story will likely conflict with canon as more of it is revealed to us.
"You will certainly marry for love, dear daughter."
Prologue
There once was a small trading village nestled within treacherous mountains. It did not get a lot of traffic, but it survived off merchants returning from the ports who decided against taking their caravans around the mountain range. This little village was home to a miller born in a prosperous metropolis who had sought to live a quiet life with his beloved Kira, his wife from the neighbouring kingdom of dark-haired citizens. Both Henry and Kira left behind the stability of their old lives, but they were happy, and in time, they were blessed with children – a girl and then a boy, both of whom inherited their mother's jet-black hair. Rounding off their happiness was an old apple tree that grew right outside their home.
The pretty girl was named Emma, and the cute boy was named Charles. While they helped their mother dye cloth from a young age, Emma was sent to gather the fruit of the hardiest plants that could survive the harsh terrain in order to supplement their food supply once she was old enough. Emma found that she was quite adept at navigating the mountains – a careless step and she could fall to her death – failure to spot bandits would have resulted in a corpse marred beyond recognition.
Some years were bountiful, and others were lean. But they got by. They had each other, and they were happy.
A great distance away, nestled within treacherous mountains, was a grand imposing fortress of a castle, larger than the entire little village. The castle was home to the benevolent king and his beloved Jordan, the queen consort who was a princess from the neighbouring kingdom of dark-haired citizens. Together, they ruled their people compassionately. Where there was drought, they ordered irrigation. When the land flooded, they rebuilt. But the couple struggled to have a child. The advisors grew nervous about the succession of the line, and distant relatives of the king lurked about like vultures, awaiting their chance to swoop in.
If one questioned Queen Jordan's ladies-in-waiting or servants then, they would certainly have said something was amiss with the sweet lady. Sometimes, she would smile pleasantly, vaguely. But other times she seemed to be unaware of anyone or anything in a room, as if her mind wasn't entirely present with her body. Sometimes, she seemed to be whispering unfamiliar words to herself. She summoned children from villages near and far; all refused to speak of what business the queen had with them.
But at long last, they had a healthy baby girl. The queen became her gentle self once more, the new Princess Snow White grew into a precocious child, and the kingdom rejoiced.