A/N: The name sucks but I'm the worst at titles so you'll have to live with it. I asked for Mother's Day themed prompts and this is the first one I got, just a cute little thing. I took a little liberty with the timeline pretending that her magic was taken weeks ago to make it work, but it's not that important so pretend it's right. Also, there's a hint of Swan Queen but not enough to get excited about. Anyways, Happy Mother's Day! Enjoy!
She lets out a long sigh as he turns down yet another gift idea for his mothers. Henry had asked her, of all people, to help him pick out gifts for both her sister and the Savior — who is more likely than not desperate to bed the Queen — for the celebration known in this land as 'Mother's Day'. She doesn't mention the observation about his blonde mother's infatuation with his other mother to him, of course, she knows the consequences of such an act. It's not like she has magic to defend herself against her sister's wrath. The only one she can afford to piss off is the blonde, though even with her she knows there are boundaries she cannot yet push. Redemption is such a whiny, pathetic bitch. But it's far better than death, she supposes.
She'd agreed to help him, of course. He and her sister (surprisingly enough) have been the only ones truly there for her in the past weeks. They actually believe in her. It's the oddest feeling, one she hadn't felt since before that dreadfully good witch Glinda betrayed her, but it has made her… feel for them. Perhaps the word to use is 'grateful' though she isn't entirely sure. She knows for certain that 'love' is out of the question. How could she ever love a woman she had hated, envied for so long? But then… she couldn't help but care… disgusting a notion as it may be.
She's growing rather tired of this adventure — 'Operation White Panther' as her nephew has taken to calling it. She's pointed out item after item in the hopes that one would be pleasing enough for him to buy at least one of his mother's, but as it turns, nothing is good enough for the little brat. He's a sweet kid, and over the last few weeks she has grown to like him to an extent, but he's a brat nonetheless.
Suddenly she spots something she hadn't thought of before and it takes quite the effort to stop herself from cackling at it. Finally she moves over towards what she personally deems the most appropriate gift for one Emma Swan and plucks it right off the shelf.
"Ah ha! This, this would be perfect!" she raises it with two fingers in victory and he turns excitedly to see the prized possession.
The moment he lays eyes upon it, however, his excitement deflates immediately and he shakes his head in disapproval before voicing his opinion. And well… it is quite entertaining to see the young boy tiptoe over his words, clearly attempting to avoid angering or upsetting her. She doesn't dare give thought to the fluttering sensation she feels in her chest at his care for her, though. No, that would be simply ludicrous.
"Um… Auntie Zelena…" his voice is timid, and he bites his lower lip briefly before laying the blow (not that it actually hurts her — what, feelings? Ha!), "that's just a balloon…"
"Oh no, my dear Henry, it's not just any balloon." She leans in towards him and whispers conspiratorially "It's a giant balloon."
He continues to stare at her incredulously and she grins, and she hopes the expression on her face is gleefully wicked.
"Blow it up," she explains unflinchingly with a touch of excitement, "give it to Emma Swan and tell her that it represents her sense of self-worth!"
He stares at her a moment longer, attempting with all his might to glare at her, but it isn't long before his mask falters and suddenly he's bent down, holding his abdomen as he tumbles into a fit of laughter. She joins him quickly enough and they're both laughing so hard that tears escape their eyes but they pay it no mind, reveling instead in the joy of the moment.
Eventually their laughter subsides and though he manages to compose himself quite quickly, it takes her a little longer to do so. It's as she's straightening out her blouse that she notices the change in his expression.
His face lights up and there's enough enthusiasm in those hazel eyes of his to energize an entire room. "Come on!" He grabs her hand and tugs gently, "I think I know exactly what to get them now, thanks to you!"
"Me? You mean…" she quirks her head to the side pensively, "I've actually helped you?"
"Of course! That's why I asked you to help me," he beams up at her, "you're smart and cool like mom! You know… your sister… that mom."
She shakes her head and chuckles in response and before she can make any attempt to ward off the intense feeling she, well, feels within her chest, he's pulling her towards the door again repeating himself with those same two words "come on!"
And in this moment, as her nephew drags her toward their new destination, she can't help but feel that maybe there truly is hope for her after all. That perhaps she truly is grateful for this second chance. And that maybe, some day, she might find that she loves her nephew and the woman she had envied for so very many years. It seems in this moment that changing the past is not, after all, the only way for her to get what she's wanted for all these years.