Written for Laura's birthday, this story was first published on Tumblr on October 28th, 2015.
The blood running through her veins is cold. Frigid. Every heartbeat stings more than the previous one as more of the viscous substance flows through her body, every pump like a knife slicing through her chest, yet she does not shiver. She's long ago gotten used to the cold. Long before the curse that befell her vital organ, her arteries were clogged by the ice in her bloodstream, making her state permanent. Incurable.
She turns in bed and pretends not to hear the cries of the child, a child with dimples and an unruly mop of brown hair. A child that isn't hers and will never be, no matter how hard she tries to be what he needs.
There's a grunt to her right, and the bed dips and lifts as the thief gets up, padded footsteps bringing him to his son's makeshift bed in the other room.
Whispers are exchanged, she can hear them in the distance, can make out a word out of three, but she knows without need for confirmation what the child is asking for – who he is asking for.
Regina.
Always Regina.
She buries herself deeper in the mattress, under the blankets, and tries to shield herself from the cries and calls for help she can't answer.
This place is unfamiliar to the child, having grown up in the forest, and he is afraid of the dark, of the monsters that lurk at night.
He doesn't yet know of the one that shares his father's bed and though her heart is dark, a part of her hopes he never has to find out.
(She is getting attached, warning bells blare in her head. Monsters do not get attached to their victims.)
During the year they'd forgotten, then remembered, Regina had taken Roland under her wing. She'd poof herself across the castle in a heartbeat should the boy require assistance. She'd shared laughs and dances with the little man who had given the Evil Queen a new reason to fight, though she insisted he call her Regina, for when she was with him, she preferred to pretend her alter-ego was a thing of the past.
For all the time she happily spent with the child, she ignored the irritable father twice as much, but even that didn't stop her from running to their chambers the moment he informed her the child was asking for her. Though she tried, Regina was never able to resist the pull of motherhood, even for a boy who was not hers to care for. She was helpless in front of him, weak, and would do anything to replace his frown with winking dimples.
Whether the sun shone brightly in the sky or the moonlight filtered through the small window near the ceiling, magic would flicker at her fingertips, a demonstration for the boy's pleasure and the father's delight, as she chased imaginary monsters away from the room, swearing to protect the castle's most special treasure. She'd read to him or tell a story of her own well into the night, more often than not falling asleep with his small body curled up against hers, the following slumber one of the most peaceful the two unlikely friends had known, drawn together by a common enemy and a need for comfort.
And now, Roland is asking for this woman he remembers, with warmth to share and love to give, unaware the one currently lying in the master bedroom is as cold-blooded as they come.
The voices in the other room finally come to a stop.
Robin enters the room a few minutes later, with his usual apologetic whisper of, "I'm sorry, love," as he slips under the covers, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight.
He is always sorry, she never answers, and this time is no different.
Her silence prompts him to justify his son's actions. "He's not used to having you around," Robin says, his hand finding her arm and giving it a tender stroke, a gentle caress she's entirely undeserving of. He drops a kiss to her neck when he feels her tense under his touch and promises, "He'll be calling out for you in no time," even though they both know the emptiness of his words. It is unlikely his son will forget Regina any time soon, especially not when his father himself couldn't put her out of his mind.
But she doesn't want to make a scene tonight – doesn't need to. She has Robin right where she wants him, wrapped around her little finger, and nodding, she scoots closer to him, accepting his apology and finding warmth in his embrace, letting herself be held as they drift asleep.
He doesn't take long. Within minutes, he is snoring lightly at her side, but she takes a moment to herself – a quiet moment, observing him through half-lidded eyes, to savour her victory. In these arms and in this instant, she has everything she's ever dreamed of, everything she ever wanted.
With the hustle and bustle of the city in the background, lulling her to sleep, Zelena smiles, pillows her head on Robin's arm, and finally closes her eyes.