The sharp beeping of her alarm clock ripped Regina from a deep sleep filled with a combination of nightmares, memories and dreams. She slammed her hand on the button to silence it a little harder than necessary but it did the trick. She rolled onto her back and sighed heavily.
After yesterday's visitor had left she sat on her sofa staring at the spot her father had disappeared without moving a muscle for at least thirty minutes. The next hour and a half was spent convincing herself it had all been some weird side effect of too little sleep or perhaps alcohol. At one point she had almost even managed to convince herself she was just drunk even though she knew she hadn't had more than one sip before the tumbler had ended up scattered across her kitchen tiles.
Once she had managed to drag herself up the stairs and into her bed, she laid awake for hours. She played and replayed the encounter over and over until she had drifted off to a restless sleep.
Today was a new day and her mind really wanted to start the tape over and think about last night once more but she couldn't. One, two, three breaths later she sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the bed and vowed to keep herself so busy her thoughts couldn't go astray.
She somewhat kept herself distracted by drowning herself in work all morning. There were a lot of things to sign off on for the Midwinter Lights festival of that evening. Henry, bless the gods for his chatty nature, did a very good job keeping her mind in the present during lunch and after that she fell from one meeting into the other until it was well past dinner time. Another night alone in the mansion, since Henry was still with Emma.
It was only when she entered her kitchen later that night to make her dinner that she couldn't keep her thoughts in check any longer. When her eyes landed on the black spot the fireball she threw yesterday had left, it was as if she could see her father appearing at the counter once again. She had to take a few shaky steps forward so she could clamp both hands firmly onto the edge of breakfast bar because it was hard for her legs to carry her weight as her mind ran away with her again.
Lucky for her, cooking had always eased her mind. It was the very reason she had gotten so good at it. Initially she had only learned how to cook because she was suddenly supposed to provide her own meals when she got to Storybrooke. She soon found out it was rather fun and therapeutic in a way, so when she had learned the basics and no longer needed to learn, she continued simply because she wanted to. A difficult recipe was always a nice challenge and Regina just loved challenges every once in a while.
She cooked, ate and cleaned. She even put on music, something she rarely ever did. She hummed along and tried to focus on the soft notes that floated through the room but it wasn't enough to keep her mind occupied.
She had clearly run out of ways to keep the thoughts at bay. Perhaps, Regina reasoned with herself, she should just give in for a bit. It could be like deflating a balloon. At some point the rubber would return to its original size and the tension would be gone. If she could just let the air out, she could shake it off and move on. And so she did. She sat down in the living room, a glass of water on the coffee table in front of her and the music playing softly in the background. For the first time that day, she wasn't the driver but simply a passenger on her train of thought as it departed.
Her plan to go to bed early today, to turn off the lights and to hopefully not be bothered with the festivities that would take place this night were all forgotten as she lost track of time sitting in her living room trying to come up with a million and one ways to interpret her father's words and the reason for his appearance.
Her brain finally got tired enough to attempt sleeping, so with a detour through the kitchen to put away her empty glass, she made her way to the stairs. From the sink she couldn't see the microwave built into the kitchen island nor its bright green digits so she missed the exact moment those digits went from 11:59 to 12:00. Midnight.
She rolled her shoulders tiredly as she shuffled to the stairs, but the moment her foot hit the hardwood of the bottom step she stopped dead in her tracks. She wasn't alone. There was someone standing in the foyer next to the side table.
The person wasn't making any move towards her, posing absolutely no threat. She was simply standing there, hands clasped in front of her. She was patiently waiting for Regina to catch up and make the first move.
Regina quickly put two and two together when she saw the slight transparency of the short woman's skin and clothes. It was all real. The warning, her father's ghost, the visitors. She blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her but the woman just moved her weight from one foot to the other as she looked at Regina expectantly. There was no grand spectacle surrounding her arrival, no loud noises, no sounds and it somehow suited the woman's character to arrive silently.
"Jo- Johanna?" Regina stammered, recognition flooding over her features.
"Regina, " the woman nodded in greeting. "I'm sorry to intrude on your home like this."
"To be fair," Regina said emotionlessly, "your arrival was somewhat expected."
The last time Regina had laid eyes on this woman it was from on top of the town's clock tower while Johanna was sprawled out underneath, thrown through the glass of the clock by her mother. She never wanted that to happen. They had gotten the dagger and Regina was ready to let Snow have her precious nanny back but Cora had other plans. Regina had no choice but to roll with them when the damage was already done.
It was strange seeing nothing but kindness on the woman's face. How was there no resentment? No hatred? Was this her chance to apologize? If so, then what was she supposed to say? I'm sorry my mother threw you off the clock tower? I am sorry I let her? Perhaps while she was at it she was expected to apologize for her behavior while Johanna was still alive too. The years in the Enchanted Forest she had spent ignoring the woman as much as possible. She was too close to Snow. Regina couldn't stand the fond way she spoke of the little girl that ruined her life. Luckily their paths didn't cross that much in the large castle.
"Shall we get on with it then?" Johanna asked in her heavy accent.
"Get on with what exactly?" Regina wanted to know as she took her foot off the stair to turn fully towards her visitor.
"We have a journey to make!"
"And what journey would that be?"
This game of twenty questions was rapidly becoming arduous. Why couldn't ghosts just cut to the point?
"Your past, of course!" Johanna exclaimed as if it was the obvious answer.
"Of course," Regina repeated after her not at all sounding as confident as the nanny.
It felt like the blood that usually ran through her veins was slowly being replaced by ice water as the words sank in. There was no time to dwell on the feeling because Johanna was reaching for her hand and at the touch the room began to fade around them.
It was a strange sensation holding hands with a ghost. Not necessarily unpleasant or cold like movies and books had always lead her to believe. She hadn't believed it possible until the transparent fingers that felt surprisingly solid, closed over her own.
Her surroundings faded and morphed into a different scene very slowly, much like being lowered into a bathtub full of warm water. Except now, she was feeling anything but warm as she feared what they might land in.
Almost anything was possible if one had magic, but not traveling through time. Every practitioner of magic knew that. It was a limitation that part of her had always been grateful for. She may be restricted to the present with no means of ever visiting a future but at least her past would stay in the past. Until now.
Johanna released her hand as they were standing in the middle of a meadow. It was daytime and Regina had to shield her eyes from the sun until they adjusted. When her vision cleared, she was able to look around. It was a good thing Johanna wasn't holding her hand anymore, because she would've squeezed it to pieces had she still been holding it while her hand curled into a fist. The other hand flew up to cover her mouth.
They were standing in a meadow. There were trees scattered around the edges and a small settlement in the distance. There weren't any obstacles set up in the meadow like there usually were for her lessons, but there was no mistaken where Johanna had taken her. She knew she shouldn't turn around because she knew what was behind her. Her head was screaming at her not to do it, but her feet had a mind of their own. She just had to see it.
Slightly higher up, at the far edge of the meadow stood a small, wooden structure. There was some hay scattered around it. The stables. Where the, it hurt to even think the words, stable boys worked. She closed her eyes and turned away again. Looking that way may not have been the smartest move.
She wanted to yell, scream, cry at Johanna to take her away. She wanted to know why on earth she was being brought back here. She wanted nothing more but to leave and she wanted Johanna to make it happen but when she let her eyes fall on the woman she saw the nanny was looking at something else.
She was about to demand her attention when another voice could be heard. Her own voice. A slightly higher pitch and in a happier tone than she herself had managed for quite a while. Not long after two horses galloped into view from behind a hill. She watched as her younger self raced her father to the middle of the clearing, able to keep up but not pass him. Henry was yelling encouragements to her as he sped up. She was laughing but her focus didn't waver.
They skidded to a stop right on front of Johanna and Regina, dismounting their horses and catching their breaths. The warm air came out is small clouds. Regina couldn't feel it, because they weren't really there in person but it was clear that it was a very cold day.
"Well done, sweetheart," Henry complemented his daughter and opened his arms for her. They watched as a young Regina happily fell into them.
"I think you are ready for tonight, my girl."
"I told you so," Regina replied with a playful smirk that turned into a small pout as she continued. "I don't see why I don't get to ride bareback tonight."
"I told you," Henry explained as he patted his horse, "it will be pitch black on our way to the bonfires by the lake. There is no way of telling what our horses will do. The smallest of unexpected movements could throw you right off it's back. I cannot take such risks with my beautiful daughter. Bareback riding shall be restricted to this meadow and more importantly to daylight."
"For now," Regina mumbled as she started removing the bridle from her horse's head.
"Yes, for now."
The teenager couldn't have been more than fourteen years old, Regina concluded as she watched the interaction. It was around that time that she had finally succeeded in persuading her father to let her try and ride bareback and a few months later she would leave the saddle with the stable boys every chance she could. Those opportunities weren't very often, unfortunately, since her mother strictly forbade her from doing it. If Cora truly had her way her daughter was only allowed to ride sidesaddle, but it was one of the only rules in the Mills' household that was interpreted loosely sometimes.
After some digging in her memory she remembered this afternoon. Her mother was away for business and wouldn't return for another two nights. She was left with her father and couldn't be happier about it.
The Midwinter Lights festivities would be held that night and they had been preparing all day. Food packets had been made. Outfits were picked out. Blankets, torches and other necessities for their trip were all packed and ready by the door of their home. Her father had insisted they go out for a ride to make sure she was ready for her first night time trip. The previous years she had always had to share a horse with her father, but tonight she would be riding her own. Rocinante, her faithful steed. It had been such a proud moment for her.
She still vividly remembered how excited she was for the Midwinter Lights festivities each year and how extra excited she had been that particular year because her mother wasn't around and she would be on her own horse.
That entire day had been stored away in the back of her mind as one of her fondest memories.
Regina was so captivated by the scene, her younger self and the interaction with her father that a sudden gentle hand on her elbow startled her.
"Let us fast forward a few hours," Johanna said and instantly the sun disappeared and made way for stars. The grass under their feet became trees around them as they found themselves by a large lake.
There was some rustling in the greenery behind them and then Regina's younger version and her father stepped out from the bushes. Both of them were carrying firewood they had just gathered. Regina still remembered her father always showing her which logs were good for campfires and which weren't. Even though by the age of ten she was capable of distinguishing them herself she always pretended to listen because she loved to just listen to him.
They made their way to a spot where the horses were already tied to a tree branch and their blanket was spread next to their bags. Her father began building a small campfire for the two of them and soon they were huddled together under a blanket staring at the flames.
There was something so cozy about it. Just the two of them, their faces lit in the orange glow of the fire. They weren't the only ones who had come to the lake for the festivities but it wasn't hard to create their own spot. They would all join each other in a few hours to celebrate as a united front against the looming darkness but for now everyone was content in enjoying a little family time.
"Daddy?" The girl asked. "Will you tell me the story of Midwinter Lights?"
She asked him to tell that story every year. And every year he would add more truth and less fairytale to it as his daughter got old enough to handle it.
Henry smiled, wrapped an arm around his daughter and launched into the story. She placed her head on his shoulder as she listened to him tell her the story that had become so familiar to her.
He told her about how scared the people of the Enchanted Forest used to be of the dark and more specifically of everything looming in it that couldn't bear the light of day. They would all huddle up in their houses, the shutters safely closed to keep the darkness from creeping in.
Especially during winters their days were very short, their nights impossibly long. At one point a courageous farmer decided he had had enough. On the longest night of the year he rounded up his village and armed with light they stepped out into the hidden world of the night hell-bent on conquering the blackness.
They brought torches, built campfires and had feasts. Henry explained that no person in their right mind would take the time to prepare a meal outdoors if they felt threatened in any way. That they would normally seek shelter first. The people defeated the odds by preparing whole banquettes, showing any and all watching that they had no fear. They would laugh in the night's face and dance to the music they played with no care in the world. Demons, ghouls and other monsters be damned. The night was theirs.
"And that is why we cook bread over the fire," the young Regina knew. "To show we are not afraid."
Henry hummed in agreement.
It wasn't as much about showing how brave they were anymore. It was an age old tradition to hold festivities and throughout the years it had become more and more and more about being together and less about overcoming fears. A night of warmth and light and celebrating with family and friends in the cold dark winters of the Enchanted Forest. A night to forget every day struggles and live in the moment. To be together regardless of what happened during the day because the sun wasn't there to shine light upon their problems anyway.
Regina's eyes had been welling up with tears as she listened to the story she had heard so often as a child. She almost felt like an intruder as she witnessed the special moment between father and daughter, both of whom were now wrapping dough around sticks to turn into bread. They were wrapped up in their own little bubble of warmth and light and seemed absolutely content in each other's company.
Regina remembered the feeling only as a distant memory. The feeling of being the only two people in the world. How long had it been since she had felt as safe as the girl under that blanket did? The annual Midwinter Lights festivities had truly been like a secret shared between father and daughter. It was theirs and theirs alone. Until it wasn't. She hadn't cherished those moments enough, she realized as a tear threatened to escape. She angrily wiped at it, refusing to let it fall on its own.
"You look so happy," Johanna softly noted.
Once again Regina had forgotten the woman was there. She had been hanging on every word her father was whispering. Intently listening to every joke he told.
"I was," she admitted.
"We have to move on now," Johanna prodded as she once again touched Regina's arm so they could travel through time together. There wasn't even enough time to figure out if she was happy to leave or wished to stay together.
The quiet laughter of her younger version and her father faded into silence as their surroundings transformed once more.