I have not written in some time, I have no beta and have never written for Once Upon a Time before. Reviews are appreciated, I wish I owned Once, sadly I do not.
The inky black sky is framed perfectly by the silver trim of the bedroom window; the formidable ancient oak tree stands silently, proudly, knowingly, casting eerie shadows across the room. One branch has the appearance similar to a hand, clenched tight, in a fist – as if it were draining, squeezing the life out of something, slowly. The knots of the branches look like knuckles as the picture sways almost calmly across the wall beside her. The unknown image flapping carelessly in the slight breeze, she wonders for a moment if it is real, or is it her imagination – the old oak tree hasn't captured some poor unsuspecting passer-by, choking him. No. Trees aren't alive – in that respects, anyway…
A small bright light twinkles prominently between the thick knotted branches, the bright light, however, isn't a star. Not in the literal sense anyway; it is a planet – Jupiter in fact. There she is wrapped up in her soft duvet, looking out the window in the wee small hours, at a planet a million miles away – makes you realise that everything is possible, if you just believe…
Reflection, looking back, why is it so incredibly difficult and laced with so many different variations of emotions. Most believe her to be a pillar of strength, that nothing will faze her or have any effect on her, they'd be wrong. Her path in life, in the beginning was to be a far different one, than the reality she finds herself in, that path, should have been shaped by her, by her choices and actions it wasn't. No others set her on her current path, some without meaning to do so, and those who did.
To most she was an enigma, wrapped up in a conundrum; very few knew who she really was, even fewer who were still living anyway, you could count those comfortably on one hand. They were each permitted to see a single part of her soul, parts of what made her so uniquely her, Snow knew the most, or she had; because she had known her the longest, a time when she was young and trusting. But even she had never known it all, for after the fate that had befallen her beloved Daniel, the young Regina stopped a great many things, trusting others was the first to go.
In the years that had past, from that time of being young and in love, Regina had built herself many a wall around her heart, each one of them constructed expertly, carefully; with the one goal in mind, to keep others out of her heart. For a time that had worked, but perhaps inevitably, or not, she had been led down the wrong path, a path she was not meant for, that was when the madness had set in, for no matter who tried there was nobody that could break down those walls to her soul.
It wasn't until much later, that those began to weaken, to crumble when she first met her little Prince, he had set forth a chain of events, that her Prince of Thieves had completed, knocking the last of them away, now only rubble remained.
So now she sits alone in her room, with her duvet wrapped tightly around her, the breeze flowing through the open window swirls all around her and taunts her of what she's lost, all of it.
"Your story is not finished" she says to the empty room, to herself, for the umpteenth time that night "yours was a story that should never of happened the way it did." She pulls her knees up to her chest "You are an anomaly…"
"Mom" she hears him say and inwardly groans, for the next sound she is likely to hear is the slamming of the front door, and there it is. Another smaller thump as his shoes are carelessly thrown into a corner, his coat to follow, then his feet are thumping as only a teenagers could along the hallway, she finds she's not annoyed by his disregard for her perfectly varnished flooring today, today she smiles, because he is home.
"Hello Henry, how was school?" she says putting down the empty cup she has just retrieved from the cupboard, placing it beside the two on the counter.
"It was… meh okay I guess" she turns at this and looks at him, her forehead creasing into a frown, he shakes his head and dumps his backpack onto the counter, she jumps a little at the sound.
"Are you alright mom?" he studies her, closely. Sighing she turns back towards the stove, stirring the milk that is close to boiling, but not quite. She doesn't hear him walk around the island in the middle of the kitchen, she feels his arms wrap around her waist from behind, his head resting on her shoulder. When did he become tall enough to do that she wondered.
"I'm fine Henry" she smiled, almost believing it. It seemed to satisfy him as his arms dropped and he began pulling items from the cupboard.
"What are you looking for?" she asked confused.
"Why cinnamon of course" he grinned at her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Who else is here mom?" he asked, eyes crinkling in confusion as he gestured to the other mug that sat beside hers and his.
"Your Grandma is coming over; it's cold out so I figured that I would make her some hot chocolate too."
"Wow, that's nice of you." She looks at him, one eyebrow raised "Wait, what did you do?" he asked and she sighed, turning back to the milk, turning off the stove as the doorbell chimed.
"Not that… I… I didn't mean anything mom" she could see his sheepish look out of the corner of her eye, and deep down she knew he didn't.
"Will you get the door please Henry; show your Grandma into the living Room, I will be through in just a moment."
She grasped the teaspoon tightly as she began pouring milk into each of the cups, stirring thoroughly each time. She smiled as she lifted the shaker of cinnamon sprinkling it.
"How are you getting on working with your Grandpa Gold, Henry?" she heard Snow say as she made her way towards the living room.
"Ah its okay, I guess it's nice to spend some time with him… After my dad, y'know…" she stopped and leaned against the door for a moment watching them, Henry sat close to his Grandmother, her arms wrapped around them. She coughed before entering and couldn't hide the smile as Henry jumped from the sofa circling the coffee table.
She had known what he was about to do seconds before he did it, huffing out a breath he jumped, kicking his legs out and landed with a thump on the opposite sofa.
"Henry, what have I told you about being rough with the furniture." She said setting all three mugs down on the coffee table. He ignored her, of course.
"What mugs mine mom?"
"Doesn't matter, they're all the same." She replied sitting next to the other woman.
"Didn't you put cinnamon in mine?" he sniffed the mug suspiciously "Does Grandma even like it?"
"Who do you think taught me how much hot drinks could be improved with a few sprinkles of Cinnamon Henry? Your Mother would bring me a cup of warm milk every night, boiled with a stick of cinnamon, to help me sleep. I hadn't been sleeping, hadn't told anyone either, but she knew. She always was a wonderful mother." Her ex nemesis smiled telling her son.
"I didn't think you would have remembered that Snow, well I assumed you didn't" Regina was slightly shocked.
"Of course I do, I have many happy memories…"
"and many terrible ones…" Regina shifted awkwardly.
"It's so weird you're my Mom, but you were Grandma's Mom too. It's more than weird actually…"
"Henry!" Regina snapped.
"It's okay Regina, I don't think its weird Henry; I just think we were lucky that we had her as a Mom."
"Well dear, as heart-warming as this is, I would like to talk to your Grandmother about something. Don't you have any homework you should be doing?"
"Not really, well a little, I'm actually quite enjoying watching you squirm as Snow White of all people tells tales of you being her mother…" he winks as he stands to leave.
"Go young man, that is enough" the booming of his feet against the stairs and the ceiling shaking made both women groan.
"He's right Regina, before… Before everything, you were my Mother."
"No, no I don't think…"
"You don't think what Regina?" snow nudged her with her elbow "how many years has it been since you've made me a hot drink, yet you still remember to put cinnamon into it, that's the touch of a mother." Regina's hands twitched in her lap, she wasn't sure how to respond, it had been more years than she would like to admit since herself and Snow had shared a Mother/Daughter relationship, so she did the first thing she could think of, clasped the mug tightly in her hands and leaned further into the sofa.
They sat in silence for some time, neither of them knew how long, each treasured how natural it felt, how after everything that had happened they had found their way back to this. Each sipped at their hot milky drink, stealing glances at the other when they weren't looking, finally Snow spoke.
"How old were you Regina?" Regina's head snapped around, confusion etched on her features.
"Ehm…How old was I when what dear? You're going to have to be more specific…" Regina said as she took a sip from her mug.
"When you married my Father of course." Well that did it, the normal unflappable Queen had well and truly been surprised, she would deny it if anyone were to ever mention it but the sip she had taken from her mug had flown out of her mouth and landed right across the coffee table.
"Dammit" With a flick of her wrist the liquid vanished from the coffee table.
She placed her mug onto the granite surface with a clink, her hand began brushing the surface as if something was there, there wasn't. She was stalling for time; she hadn't planned on this being the topic of discussion when she had invited her step-daughter over, no she had been sure that the first question out of Snow's mouth would relate to Robin, or Emma's part in the whole mess.
"I'm not sure if we should be talking about this Snow" she said honestly.
"I was talking with Emma this morning, and she asked me, I was shocked that I didn't have an answer for her, then when she asked how old her Grandfather was… Well… I knew why I didn't have an answer, because I didn't want one, because then I could continue to ignore it." The younger woman confessed, Regina was taken aback slightly.
"I was nineteen Snow…" she couldn't meet Snow's gaze, her hands continued to fidget in her lap.
She felt one of Snow's hands rest gently on hers, the other she felt rest under her chin, bringing her face up slightly so their gazes met, what Regina seen in the young woman's eyes made her breath catch in her throat.
"I am so sorry Regina, I knew you were young, but I didn't realise you were that young, my Father was more than twice your age. I'm so sorry."
"Don't" Regina grabbed onto the other woman's hands "You have nothing to be sorry for, my Mother… she… It wasn't to be any other way, you know that." She smiled weakly.
"You are wrong."
"Wrong about what dear?"
"You were my Mother, you were an amazing Mother."
"I tried to kill you dear, I'm sure that negates any mothering I ever did you."
"True, but I always thought you killed my Father because of the secret I told. Now I know you didn't, you waited until I was an adult, until I could cope… For what he did to you" Regina's eyes widened in shock, a gasp tore from her throat.
"I didn't… we.. we are not talking about this, I will not speak about this, not with you or anyone" she began to fidget in her seat, moving to sit on the edge of the sofa, the briefest thought of running away filtered through her head.
"There you go again, protecting me, being my Mother…" Regina started to shake her head then, but as snow's words sank in she realised that's what she was doing, because even at the height of her evilness, the one thing Regina would never have done was tell Snow who her Father really was, what he really was. Snow tilted her head towards Regina, she was keenly aware of the pain that crossed her Step-Mothers face.
Regina surprised even herself then when she wrapped her arm around Snow and pulled her into her side, something she hadn't done since Snow was a young girl. Neither of them said anything, neither of them could find the words that were needed, so they sat there, Regina's arm around snow, holding her close, Snow's head rested on her step Mother's chest as tears flowed freely from her eyes. A silent understanding between them, that one day they would talk about this, when they both were ready, today wasn't that day.
"Thank you Regina."
"What for?"
"For telling me the truth, for protecting me."
"I think what you said after our dalliance at a séance holds true, we are done with being haunted by the past, or nearly done anyway." Snow lifted her head rubbing her eyes with the backs of her fists.
"There's something we need to talk about, something I need to talk about. There's no one I…" Regina swiped her thumbs under Snow's eyes, through the wetness of her fallen tears. "Would you let me tell you a story? It's my story, so it won't be pretty, but I have to tell it to someone…"
"You're trusting me" Snow replied shocked.
"Today certainly is the day for shocking each other."
"Why?"
"Oh Snow" Regina turned to look at the woman, tears shining in her eyes "Because… because you knew me, before… everything. There are things I have told no one, I didn't think I ever would. You know me the most, or the longest; I thought perhaps… perhaps I would of told Robin, eventually. But that wasn't to be." She looked away sadly; the irony of the situation was not lost on her.
When I was a child, growing up, there were strict rules that had to be followed; any deviation from these rules was met by strict punishment from my Mother. Some worse than others, well that's not true, they were all awful. Do you remember when you were a child, not long after I married your Father, you came to me one morning begging that I take you ridding, I couldn't face it after Daniel so I tried to put you off, by saying the rain would make it impossible. That only worked for so long, you were determined, hell bent if you will; a trait your grandson shares with you I might add. So eventually I relented, because as much as I would of liked to have been mean to you, to ignore you or punish you after what happened to Daniel I just didn't have that in me. So I took you out to the stables, taught you how to tack your horse, I remember the indigent look on your face as you said;
'that's what we have help for.'
You were mad I made you do it though; I knew I was teaching you a lesson on how to take care of your horse, but the fact that angered you made me smile. Eventually you managed to secure the girth strap, too tightly, which I fixed when you went to retrieve the bridle. I remember wrapping my arms around you as you climbed onto a box to slip the bit into dancers mouth, you were determined that now you had started you would finish; and you did. You kicked at the straw on the stable floor impatiently as I finished getting Rocinante ready.
Together we led our horses out into the paddock behind the stables, you were still too short to mount your horse without any help, so I helped you. I remember that day so vividly, because for the first time in a long while I remember being genuinely happy, truly laughing. I taught you to jump, we made jumps out of hay bales and fallen branches, we had found at the edge of the forest, you fell so many times, each time you would get up covered in mud, lead Dancer over towards the fence and go again. We both walked back to the castle that day covered from head to toe in mud laughing. Your Father wasn't happy though, he cornered me, he was of the opinion that princesses weren't supposed to be riding like that, to be playing in the mud.
It reminded me of a time when I was a few years younger than you, I had had my riding lesson for the day, my nanny had come to tell me it was tea time, that Mother had left orders for me to have tea as normal, even if she wasn't there. I was having fun, I wanted to be a child, and I was remiss in thinking I deserved to have fun. Finally my nanny relented and left me to play, I think I must have been seven or eight I can't remember which, I yanked the reins a little too roughly and my horse reared, I slid down her back and ended up on my ass in a bog. I was covered from head to toe in mud, which I thought was hysterical. My nanny thought so too, she had laughed and laughed as she helped me strip my muddy clothes off.
I didn't see my nanny after that; it wasn't until weeks later I heard the maids in the kitchen discuss what had happened. Mother had returned earlier than expected and discovered my nanny washing my mud caked ridding clothes, Mother had asked what had happened so naturally my nanny told her the truth, I had been playing. My Mother crushed her heart immediately, the maids witnessing it. I asked my mother why she had done what she had done, her response 'Princesses do not get covered in mud, nor do they disobey their mothers, this is a lesson Regina, this is what happens when you do not do as I say. People die.' That was the first time I felt my Mothers wrath, in which I caused someone to die.
Regina still had her arm wrapped around Snow on the sofa, their other hands linked on the once Mayors lap.
"I remember that day; I also remember you telling my Father to be quiet, that I was a child and deserved to have a normal childhood. I haven't thought about Dancer in some time..."
"Yes I did, he wasn't happy I said that." Regina chuckles.
"What was her name."
"Who?"
"Your nanny, what was her name?"
"Mary-Margaret."
Snow gasped, pulling out of Regina's embrace, sitting forward on the sofa. She turned to her once Evil Step Mother shocked.
"You… You named me after her, cursed me I mean, why?"
"Oh Snow, I don't know. I loved her, your spirit as a child reminded me of her a lot. Maybe that's why…" Snow settled back against the sofa speechless, she turned towards Regina, tears forming in her eyes.
"Hey none of that, I don't deserve your tears."
"No, but Mary-Margaret does, she died because she let you be a child; your Mother should never have done that to her or to you."
"That's why your mother really killed Joanna"
"Yes, another lesson for me."
Sighing Regina wrapped her arms around the young girl again as tears began to escape her eyes, dripping onto her cheeks as she remembered the woman who raised her from a baby until her 'mother' killed her. There they stayed until Henry roused them from their memories, wanting what every teenager craves, food. He did not question why they sat so close on the sofa, arms around each other; he did notice their tear tracks on their faces and watery smiles. He knew if he needed to know they would tell them, the three of them set about cooking supper, together. Regina still had much to tell, but now she had made a start she felt much lighter than she had in years.