It had officially been a week since Marian had first stepped foot in Storybrooke. Had it really only been a week since she'd walked down the street with Robin and his son, feeling at peace with herself and the world around her? How drastically her life had changed since then, how different her future now looked.
Regina had hidden herself away from the outside world, refusing to leave her house unless it was absolutely necessary- and even then, that constituted a problem with Henry, and not much else. She'd even pushed him away for a few days, unable to handle any sort of blinding hope, any sort of wonderful, heroic optimism. But in the end, she'd missed him. He'd come back, speaking at her through the door, telling her that he wasn't giving up on her, even if she gave up on herself. And it was at that moment that she knew she needed him. Without Henry, what was keeping her from sliding back into the depths of darkness? She'd opened the door, embraced him, and vowed to live in the light. Snow could still handle the mayoral duties -she didn't really have the energy to deal with a bunch of whining dwarves and meddlesome heroes- but for Henry? She would live in the light.
Today, they were going to have lunch together at Granny's. It was the first real time she'd been out since defeating the snow monster that had threatened the Merry Men. Regina was trying to cope with the depression that was gripping her, and knew she wasn't fully herself- thus, she didn't even bother putting up the protective facade of her no-nonsense business formal. Instead, soft, comfortable fabrics wrapped her, draped in a non-constricting way. She still followed her normal black color scheme, accented this time by a heather grey undershirt, and instead of applying liberal makeup and her usual hairstyle, she opted for a soft, subtle look and a simple ponytail.
Casual. Very, very casual. Mother would be rolling over in her grave if she saw her, but Regina wasn't living for Cora. It was time she started to live for herself.
In a rather unqueenly manner, Regina was running a bit late. Damn the clock- sometimes, she still wished the hands on the clock tower were perpetually stuck. At least then, she wouldn't be standing her son up. On the way out the door, she grabbed a pair of earrings and slid them onto her lobes. She was depressed, but she wasn't a savage. Finally deeming herself adequate, the former Queen hurried towards the diner.
It crossed her mind that she could simply use magic to take herself there. However, with the restriction of the darker impulses within her, Regina found that using magic made it harder to reign in those negative emotions. Even something simple could mean a crack in the prison that kept the Evil Queen at bay, and she wasn't willing to risk that. Not for anything. She had the trust of her son, of Snow and the others. It was enough... For once, she felt like she was enough.
The little bell over the door rang as she slid inside. Henry was just taking a drink of what she could already surmise to be hot chocolate, and before he'd even set the mug back down, she'd plopped down a stack of comics in front of him. In surprise, his dark gaze turned to look over the stack, then up at her, a shocked -and somewhat hungry- expression coloring his features. Regina barely held back her mirth. "I wasn't sure which ones you were reading these days." That admission in itself made her feel guilty. She'd gone a whole year without her baby boy, and that pain was sharp, rearing itself up inside of her momentarily. Thankfully, Henry seemed not to notice, and the moment passed shortly, leaving her feeling a little shaky, but okay otherwise.
"These are awesome! Much better than algebra. Thanks! But..." Henry trailed off, and she could see him attempting to find the words to ask the question that hung in his eyes. Instead, he settled on "You didn't have to do this."
She wanted to dispel that unsure look, and projected firmly, surely... motherly. "I wanted to." Teasingly, her shoulder leaned closer to him, on her face, a mock stern expression. "But don't get used to it." The smile that followed was nothing short of bliss. This was what she needed. This was going to heal everything. Even if the plan she'd been gnawing on for a few days now didn't work... even if there was no way to even start it, Henry would be her saving grace.
Though, she knew if there was a chance of it working, she needed to talk to him. She needed to make sure this wasn't something unethical... she hadn't always been the best judge of that sort of thing before. Reaching for one of the comics, she gazed at the printed page, the graphic, bold designs, and opened it up. Her thumb flipped through the pages as she prepared herself to bring up the topic.
"Isn't it funny how these are just... ink and paper, but everything in your storybook is real? Makes you wonder who wrote it, doesn't it." Her eyes were rooted onto the comic, but out of her peripheral, she could see Henry looking over at her curiously, as if the thought had never occurred to him before.
"The storybook?"
"Mmhmm."
His answer was instantaneous. "No one knows."
Uncertainty bubbled within. Surely, he knew something. Was he afraid to tell her what he knew? She'd thought that, by now, she'd proved she wasn't going to hurt anyone. Was it possible that she was only fooling herself? Did Henry really not trust her? She was less sure now. "Oh, come on. You're such an expert on all this. You've read it cover to cover. There's... nothing in the book that gives... even a clue?"
And there it was. That slight hardening of his features; the tightening of his eyes, the disappointment ready to swoop in at what he perceived to be some sin on her part. Maybe this was a bad idea. "What are you up to?"
Regina sighed and looked down, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. She'd miscalculated. This was a horrible idea, and now, her son was doubting her again. She knew she couldn't lie to him about this. She had to be honest. The process of learning what impulses to control wasn't an immediate one; the Queen had spent so long giving into any whim that gripped her. All Regina could hope was that he saw how genuine she was, and that she really hadn't meant harm.
"These... stories about me in the book. I was written as a villain." Her eyes glanced up to Henry's, and he was gazing at her attentively, but his face was a blank mask. Well... better that then suspicion. Her shoulders lifted and lowered in a small shrug. "But things never work out for the villain, so I... wanna find whoever wrote this book and make them-" Regina blinked, realizing that anger was starting to swirl, and that, if she wanted Henry's help, she needed to beat that back. She forced the darkness away and corrected herself. "...Ask them... to write me a happy ending."
Almost sheepishly, Regina sought his eyes, not knowing exactly what she would see there; disbelief? Ridicule? Pity? But damn, her son must have inherited Emma's poker face, because she couldn't decipher anything. Almost nervously, she added "Is that crazy?"
And her son's expression came alive. Only, it was none of the things she feared she would see. He seemed... animated. Excited. Maybe even, dare she hope... proud. The knot in her belly began to loosen, and she breathed out he tension as he exclaimed "Are you kidding? That's the best idea you've ever had! We have to change the book, because it's wrong about you."
And oh, oh her heart... she felt it thumping in warmth, and it felt so good to be told she wasn't evil, wasn't a monster. He believed in her... for real. She was sure that nothing could wipe the smile from her face as long as she could forever remember her son telling her that she wasn't a villain.
Henry was continuing, seeming now to jump right into her plan. "We just have to find the clues."
That... she hadn't been expecting. "W-we? You mean you'll help me?" She hadn't been prepared to beg, but she'd figured she'd at least have to make her case a bit before securing his help. And here he was, offering it?
Henry's smile mirrored her own. "It'll be our own secret mission."
This was what she'd missed. As a mother, she'd always been so strict on Henry, and she regretted it so very much. When she'd found out that he and Emma had a secret mission, it had hurt her far more than she'd thought it ever could. He had never trusted her with that sort of thing. How far they'd come over the years...
"Like the... Operation Viper you had with Emma."
"Cobra. But yeah. This one we'll call... Operation..."
Maybe it was because she was feeling so happy, and she felt the tiny, petty need to secretly one-up Emma. Maybe it was because, while she wished the blonde woman no harm, she was still a little upset at her for bringing Marian back. For whatever reason, the name of an animal, an animal who just so happened to kill snakes, popped into her mind, and before she could stop it, it popped out. "Mongoose."
Henry seemed to read it all, even the parts she wanted to hide, and understood immediately. His answering smile was tolerantly amused. When had her little boy grown up? When had he become so perceptive? "Perfect. Operation Mongoose it is."
This felt good. This felt right. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her after all. If she could ensure that she lived a long life, surrounded by friends, surrounded by the love of her son, she would be happy. Regina didn't need much. Soon, the pain of failed love would fade. Soon, she wouldn't even remember the sound of his-
"Regina..."
Her blood ran cold. Her smile froze on her face, and she saw Henry's face sober a second before she turned around and came face to face with her current weakness.
He was draped in forest tones, dark greys and greens and browns. The smell of pine wafted around her, and her body physically reacted to it.
"Can we talk?"
She wanted to say no. She wanted to run away and hide, and curse the fates. The first day she'd actually left her house, and she just so happened to run into Robin? No... this wasn't chance, her mind corrected immediately. He'd obviously sought her out. How the hell had he known she'd be here? She regarded him with all the caution of a bag of snakes, and turned once more to look at Henry; to non-verbally ask if he was okay with this, to gauge his reaction, to halfway hoping he'd say no, that he needed her...
Her little prince simply gave her a reassuring, if dubious smile, cautiously watching Robin as if he was afraid of what he would do, what he would say.
Damn. Here we go.
Regina cleared her throat and stood, approaching him with only a bit of trepidation. When she spoke, her voice was carefully devoid of any emotion. She could tell he was worried and experiencing some sort of crisis. She hoped Roland was okay, but she wasn't going to allow him to see her worry for him... not yet, anyway. "What are you doing here?"
"It's Marian. Something's happened to her. Something magical. Please, you must come with me."
Of course. Of course, he was worried. Something was wrong with his wife. She looked down, breaking eye contact with him as she processed all of this. In the back of her mind, it never actually crossed her mind to leave Marian to whatever magical malady that cursed her. Even with her self-imposed ban on her own magic, she knew she would break it for him. He needed her. The least she could do was try.
But that didn't mean she had to like it. That happy, carefree look that Henry had drawn out in her was nowhere to be found now. She'd disconnected again, a cold, careful mask firmly in place. "Very well. Where is she?"
"What do you mean, he's dying?" The crack of her tone was enough to send the royal physician into a fit of trembling; no one ever desired to incur the wrath of the queen. There was no telling what she would do in her anger.
"I-I'm doing all that I know how," he said, wringing his hands nervously, hoping by some grace of the gods that he would get out of this alive. "Please, Your Majesty..."
Her title prompted black eyes rimmed in kohl to turn down to the stout little man, and the manic look that reflected there had him sweating profusely. "Get out of my sight," she hissed, her grief too consuming for her to even come up with a snarky remark.
Her father was dying. The words of the physician echoed in her skull until they were beating fierce, staccato patterns into her brain. It was like a pounding drumbeat, making the vein pop out on her forehead as she stomped to her chambers and threw the door open, her resounding scream ricocheting off the stone walls.
"My, my. What's the matter, dearie?" came a nasally, overly-sweet voice from her vanity. Her teacher, the imp, was planted firmly on her chair, one leg crossed over the other, sickly golden skin gleaming in the torch light. "It looks like you're just a little. Worked. Up." He emphasized every word, his voice turning high-pitched and patronizing, as if she was a young, stupid child.
"What the hell do you care? Get out. I'd like to be alone."
A clawed hand pressed to his chest in a mock wound, his yellowed, crooked teeth on display as his mouth formed a little 'o'. "You wound me, Regina! What has you so worked up? It couldn't be the fact that your dear ole papa is knock-knock-knocking on death's door... could it?" The tone of his voice made it clear he already knew. Hell, for all she knew, he'd caused it. Regina was not in the mood for games however, and she whirled on him, stomping directly up to him until their noses were close, her furious eyes boring into his like black fire.
"What the hell have you done? Fix him, or I swear by all that's holy, I'll-"
"You'll do what, Regina?" Rumplestiltskin stood, his eyes eager, as if attempting to provoke the worst sort of reaction out of her. Her fingertips danced, feeling fire tingling as it threatened to break loose. He'd been training her for a little over a year now, and he'd taught her that rage and hatred and anger was her strength. At the present moment, all of that was centered at the man in front of her. He saw this, relished this, seemed rather pleased by it even, and even through the haze of madness, she noticed this and found it rather perplexing. His putrid breath washed over her as he smiled wide, and his fingers moved to grab her by the throat.
"You just can't lose your daddy," he continued, giggling in that infuriating way that was so characteristic of him. "Oh, I know! Let's make a deal! You do something for me... I do something for you."
Regina's lip curled, and she smacked away his hand before she had to spend another second that close with him. "Like hell I'll make a deal with you. Your deals always-"
"Come with a price, yes, that's right," he hummed, mirth still showing in his expression. The fact that she'd miscalculated and made a retreat from him obviously had him pleased about something. Would she ever learn to navigate this infuriating man!? "The question you must ask yourself, dearie... is can you force your father to pay the price if you do nothing?"
Regina fell silent, thinking of her father lying there in his bed, struggling for breath, fighting just to take in enough air to survive. The pain clearly showed on her face, and Rumple moved forward, sliding a finger down across her cheekbone. The touch of his cold flesh had her shuddering in disgust. "Think about it. The offer still stands. Just... don't think too long, mm? Daddy dearest won't last forever." With those parting words, he was gone, leaving her in a cloud of crimson smoke.
The purple smoke cleared, and there they stood, she, Robin, and Henry, just outside of the door to her office. Well... Snow's office, now. She was mayor, and she liked not having to worry about the well-fare of everyone. Even still, when she opened the door and walked into this space, she immediately felt a sense of ownership. This was a place that she'd designed to empower her, and to intimidate others. The stark contrast of the black and white, with just that occasional pop of red, really helped to solidify her reign. But the dynamic had changed.
Snow, holding her new baby, stood anxiously just inside of the office. "Regina, thanks for coming."
"Don't thank me until I've done something," she answered back automatically, throwing her a look as an afterthought- and then stopping, halting, despite the emergency of the situation. Her eyes were focused directly behind Snow. An accusatory finger lifted, and she pointed, clear offense written on her face. "Whose idea was that?"
Behind Snow, a garish, cheap hotel-style painting of colorful birds rested on the wall. It was a clear disconnect from the power of the rest of the room, and part of it burned her. Sure, she'd given up the position, but damn... couldn't they have waited until she'd at least been functioning at normal capacity before they started to change things? First her soul mate, then her office... it seemed like they just kept wanting to take, take, take...
"Oh... I thought I would put my own personal touch on the office."
For a moment, Regina just stared. But, she didn't have time for this now. Robin was waiting... Marian was possibly dying. She ended the exchange with a "Well, you've succeeded. Hideously." And that was that.
It seemed like everyone had invaded her office. Marian was asleep on the sofa -the very sofa where she'd kissed Robin only a little over a week ago, and she really, really couldn't be thinking of that now. Her skin was a greyish-bluish tone, and frost clung to her hair, to her skin... to her eyelashes even. Any sort of chagrin melted in the face of this new challenge. What the hell was this?
The closer she got, the more she could feel some sort of unfamiliar magic vibrate, and she felt slightly dizzy. "Whew... this is powerful." Tentatively, she stepped closer, allowing herself to 'taste' the magical signature, and feeling the resistance as she attempted to push back. "Once it reaches her heart, she'll die." Robin was asking her if she could stop it, and her eyes flickered to the bright blue of his, feeling part of herself grieve for him. How unfair, to get his wife back, only to lose her so suddenly. Regina knew she couldn't stop this. It would take weeks, perhaps longer, to research this type of magic, and Marian clearly didn't have that long.
Emma walked in, some new guest trailing behind, and if she didn't look the very picture of the ice queen, then Regina had been the queen of puppies and kittens. "Maybe we should ask our new friend here. You conjured up Abominable Frosty the Snowman. How do we know you didn't do this too?"
Emma seemed quick to jump in. "Because I trust her."
Regina scoffed. Was that supposed to mean something to her? Emma's judgement was the last that she'd trust right now. It was perhaps a good thing that the 'new friend,' Elsa, spoke before Regina could form a scathing comeback. "I don't know who could have done this... I'm the only one with this power. The only thing that can break it is an act of true love."
Pain the likes of which she now thought she was immune pierced through her, and she felt sick. "True love's kiss..." Her eyes turned away from the scene, and she hated how weak she felt. She hated how he still had so much control over her. After this, no more, she promised herself. In order for her own sanity, she couldn't be at his beck and call. There had to be boundaries, and Regina would enforce them in order to preserve her own well being.
She didn't look. How could she? The very thought of him kissing another killed her, and oh, if she didn't already know how fickle true love's kiss could be, she'd already be gone. Henry caught her eye, and he wasn't watching either. His eyes were holding hers, and he was offering her strength, compassion... understanding. Her lips flattened grimly, trying to hold back the grimace and the tears that threatened. Her darling boy... what would she ever do without him?
Robin's voice interrupted the conduit of support between mother and son, and Regina's head whipped around. It didn't work. Did that mean-? No... she herself knew all too well that it didn't always work, even when the love was true. This meant nothing... nothing, accept, that this was still her problem when she desperately didn't want it to be. David mentioned something about Frederick and she remembered Katherine... Abigail... the woman David had been promised to back in the Enchanted Forest. The cold acting as a sort of block for the power of the kiss was plausible. What did that mean then? Should Regina conjure up a hair dryer so that they could at least thaw her lips and get this show on the road?
But no... that wouldn't work. And as Robin turned to her with agonized eyes, she felt a thousand years old. Breathing in slowly, she slumped, defeated, and offered what she could. "I... I don't know how to cure it. But I have an idea that could slow it down, at least until we can find a cure." Her eyes flickered up once. "Do you trust me?"
His instantaneous answer was surprising, and she spent a beat too long staring at him like she thought he was lying. Shaking her head lightly, she tried not to dwell on it -it didn't mean anything. Not now- and turned to Henry. "Go to my vault," she said, sending the only person she trusted enough to be there. "Get one of the heart chests. Hurry, we don't have much time left."
Henry nodded and was out the door immediately. Regina lifted her hands once more over the prone form of the woman her soulmate loved, and grit her teeth as she tried to tap into the light magic she'd used to defeat Zelena. There was no outward sign of the magical transfer happening, but Regina was slowing the spread of the frost just a little. On the outside, she seemed to be growing worse, but she was concentrating on keeping the cold away from what was inside; her heart, her lungs, her brain... a slight chill prickled the hairs along Regina's arms, causing goosebumps to form, but she ignored it. She sent the others out into the lobby, knowing that Robin needed a moment to collect himself, and it would be better if he didn't have an audience. She also wasn't thrilled about having an audience to what she was going to do- she didn't want them remembering the times she'd ripped hearts before, didn't want to see the disgust on their faces. They complied wordlessly, all offering support to the thief on their way out, and every single one of them not envying the situation he'd been placed into by fate.
Henry was fast, and Marian's condition had only grown moderately worse by the time he returned, even if she did look like a horribly dressed popsicle. He readied the box, and she looked up at Robin to confirm that he was still okay with this; there was no guarantee that this would work. But, they needed time, and without this, Regina didn't know how else to get it. There was a chance this would work, at least. Otherwise, she would die.
At his nod, she took a breath, then slammed her fist down into Marian's chest; past the ice, past the flesh and bone. It felt... tight around her hand, hard and constricting because of the ice, and she was uncomfortable and found her skin stinging from the cold. Having a bit of difficulty, she moved her hand around as best as she could to locate the heart. Seeking fingers brushed against the beating -and thankfully, warm- organ, and she knitted her brow in concentration. Gripping it firmly, Regina readied herself to yank it out, and prayed that the ice didn't close around her hand fast enough that it ripped Marian's heart to ribbons. With a fast, almost violent move, she found herself holding a red, glowing heart, its steady beating glowing and dimming, glowing and dimming. She'd done it.
"The ice hasn't touched her heart yet," she said, offering a hopeful expression. That was something, at least. Placing it gently in the box Henry had waiting, she closed the lid. "There. She'll stay alive until I can figure out a way to break this curse."
Henry left with the box, taking it back to her vault for safekeeping, and Robin and Regina were left alone -sort of- once more. Robin was gazing down at his wife, obviously distressed. "Alive... but like this?"
"I'm afraid so," she said softly, remembering how she'd kept Daniel for years in a sort of stasis; a horrible state of mostly-death that she'd lived with for the majority of her life. "At least, until I find a cure. And I will find a cure. I'm... sorry, Robin."
He was down. She knew he felt defeated, and like there was nothing he could do. And of course, he was just thinking about his family, and his son, and poor, poor Roland. That little boy had experienced enough heartbreak in his short little life. She longed to comfort, to place a hand on his shoulder, but resisted. That wouldn't help either of them. "True love's kiss... doesn't always work." The tone of her voice, and the knowing, sorrowful expression she allowed let him see that there was definitely more to her statement than she was letting on. But, instead of him asking her to elaborate, he revealed his own secret to her.
"That kiss didn't work because of what David said. It's... it's because I'm in love with someone else."
There was a punch to her gut. For just a second, she tried to deny it to herself. Who was he talking about? Because it wasn't her. It couldn't be her. This couldn't be happening because it was so, so incredibly foolish to admit this. And yet, the way his eyes penetrated hers, held them, conveyed his meaning exactly, she couldn't stop the incredulous, almost giddy smile from stretching her lips. "Y-you are?" Her heart was pounding, and she was afraid to breath, to blink even, in case this was shattered.
"I am," he said, and his affirmation was a truth that she felt in the very depths of her soul. For a moment, the pain of the past week was forgotten, and everything seemed alright in the world. And then, she saw the light leave his eyes, the pain enter, and Regina felt something inside of her die all over again. "But I-"
"I know," she hastened to cut him off, unable to hear him say it again. "I know you have to go back to her. She's still your wife."
And that was the end of it. It didn't matter if he was in love with her, if he thought the moon shone from her eyes. None of it mattered, because no matter what he felt, no matter what she felt, he would be forever off limits to her. The realization of that had her feeling even worse than she had when he'd broken things off with her. She left after that, and went straight to her vault. If there was one thing she could do, it was bury herself in work. The sooner this frozen magical mess was sorted out, the sooner she could get on with Operation Mongoose, and try to find some small slice of happiness in this life before it was over.
Sprawled in front of her was tome after tome, spell book after spell book. She'd been at it for the past two hours. It was two hours she should have been spending next to her ailing father's bedside, but she wasn't willing to admit defeat just yet. He would be fine. He had to be fine...
And she'd just found the spell that would ensure it. The fact that she knew Rumple was probably -most definitely- watching, ready and waiting for the moment when she broke down and called to him for help, made this all the sweeter.
She didn't need him.
Reaching for a small dagger, she sliced the palm of her hand and squeezed, dropping a bit of blood on the current page of the book. The glyph written there glowed and soaked it up, before emitting a cloud of black, sulfurous smoke. Regina coughed and stood, trying to put some distance between her and the caustic stench of brimstone. Her eyes were watering, and she blinked, trying to clear them, desperate not to miss any part of this ritual.
By the time she could see again through the tears and smoke, a man stood before her. He was startlingly pale, and his cheekbones stuck out, gaunt beneath his thin, ancient skin. He was dressed completely in black, and Regina felt a shiver of real fear shake through her as she felt the power of this creature. When he spoke, it was with a decrepit hiss that sounded of a thousand screams, a thousand chains raking across stone. She shivered again, unable to hold it back. "Who has summoned me?"
Taking a breath, Regina stepped forward. "I have."
His head tilted forward, eyes milky and unseeing. "And what do you wish of me, little one?"
"My father... he is ill. He will die without help."
"And you think I should help you out of the kindness of my heart." The tone seemed almost tolerantly amused, and she felt like a child, trying to argue a point to her parents.
"No... I am quite aware that all magic comes with a price. I shall pay it... just save him. Please..."
In the blink of an eye, the man was suddenly directly in front of her, long, crooked nose breathing in deeply, as if smelling her. She did her best to stay still, but fear was rapidly rising in her. Was this a mistake? Should she have simply left well enough alone? "You are young... a child. I will spare the life of your father... for now. You will decide when he dies."
Regina blinked, confused. "I don't understand..."
"I will take one year from you for every year you desire your father to live. When your life has run its course, your soul will be mine. This is the price for the life of your father."
She was taken aback. Her soul... He wanted her soul? The years taken from her life, she could handle. The sooner she was put out of her misery, the better. But... her soul? How could she ever hope to be reunited with Daniel if she bartered it away?
"You must choose," he prompted her, and she felt panic settling in.
How could she allow her father to die? How could she not do everything within her power to save the only person who loved her? A man that would do anything he could to save her, if their situations were reversed?
"Choose."
Her time had run out. It was now or never. "I agree to your terms," she said, feeling her heart hammering in her chest. "Save him... please." Perhaps, she could find a way out of this someday. Perhaps she could cheat death. Perhaps... she would need to look into it. But her father needed help now.
"You should have gone to Rumplestiltskin," the ancient voice chided softly, before leaning forward and sinking his sharp, long, thin fingers into her abdomen. Pain erupted throughout her entire body, and she felt her soul being ripped out of her body. It was agony, and it did not subside, even when his fingers left her. If anything, it seemed to get worse. White-hot torture blazed every nerve ending in her body until the sweet, sweet bliss of oblivion took her.
