I don't own them
Regina's accommodations are on B-Deck and comprised of mahogany furniture, with gold accents and crimson upholstery. The walls are enameled in white with elaborate carvings, flowery tapestries thrown over lavish couches and chairs. There's a large bedroom with a walk-in closet and a fireplace, two large shelves next to a full length mirror, and a full-sized, wrought-iron bedstead, with feather pillows and a plush duvet that matches the shade of red of the cushioning on the rest of the furniture. To the right, there is a small door that leads to the bathroom, then a luxurious living area down a short hall to the left, and a sun room that is located right next to her mother's chambers, with doors that act as passageways between them, giving Cora (and Leopold, whose rooms are next to Cora's) the ability to keep constant watch on her, something Regina absolutely detests, but is used to by now. Leopold is closer in age to Cora than he is to Regina, and they get along splendidly, treating her as some sort of show horse, put on display for the world to see. Sometimes, Regina thinks it would be best if he just married her mother instead of her, but having a bride that isn't twenty years younger than him is probably not an appealing concept for Leopold Blanchard.
She keeps telling herself it'll be alright, that all she has to do is make it til tonight, when she can steal away while they're both sleeping in their feather beds and then she can do what she'd set out to do since she got on this ship. It would all be over soon, she needn't suffer this life that much longer.
"Regina, stop sulking, it's time for tea," Cora's voice barks at her later that day, when she's changed into yet another expensive dress and left the maids to finish unpacking their bags. They begin to walk down the hallway, dainty gloves and fans in hand as they enter the tea room, where they are pleasantly greeted by the social royalty her mother still thinks them part of, even though they've no money left to presume themselves as such.
"Ah! Cora, dear," a soft voice says, and Regina looks at her mother just in time to see her extending a hand to John Alistair Gold, the richest man on the ship.
"John, darling, how lovely to see you again," Cora replies, surveying the beautiful young brunette holding the man's free arm, "and who is this?"
"Ah, yes, apologies, you've yet to meet my new wife. This is Belle. Belle, darling, this is Cora Mills."
They're about to shake hands, Cora already mentally passing judgment on the girl, when a crass voice cuts through the quiet murmurs.
"Oh hurry up with the damn pleasantries, will you? You're holding up the line!"
Regina snorts, amused, while Cora's eyes widen, and they both turn to find Ruby Lucas waiting for them to move away from the entrance so she can come inside as well.
"Ms. Lucas," Cora acknowledges, and the roll of the young woman's eyes has Regina grinning despite herself. Ruby Lucas is new, but very far up in their little social ladder, the long lost child of a rich mogul who died in some animal attack while he was out hunting, leaving his newly found daughter an exorbitant amount of money, but she had lived in an orphanage for most of her life, and has refused to learn the prim and proper demeanor that is expected of her as a member of high society, even being bold enough to keep the scandalous red streaks she'd added to her raven hair while in foster care and sticking to wearing daring dresses with necklines that are sometimes just a little too low, not caring what anyone says about her (not that anyone would actually say anything about her, for she is far richer than all of them, rivaled only by Gold's net worth). It's easy to see how much she enjoys her life and putting her newfound riches to good use. She's invested in schools to educate women, has created new, better orphanages, and helped rescue many children from the cold, harsh reality of the streets. She's daring, and fierce, and Regina likes and admires her.
"Regina, hun, come with me so we can have a proper drink, being held up has frustrated me and I'm afraid tea is no longer going to do it for me," she says, and then takes her arm as they walk away, Regina throwing an apologetic glance at her mother behind her back. She knows she'll pay for this later, but right now, Ruby is offering her a welcome respite from the bland beverages and pretentious conversation, and she is going to take it.
"So how are the wedding plans going?" Ruby asks when they reach the first class smoking room. It's full of men, as no women are allowed inside, but everyone knows who Ruby is and, more importantly, the amount of riches she possesses, so no one dares to stop them from going in, and it feels illicit, scary and thrilling all at the same time, so Regina smiles despite herself, then frowns as she answers.
"Invitations have been sent out, I hope you received yours?"
"I did, but I ain't going."
"Why not?!" Regina asks as Ruby commands the bartender to serve them two glasses of brandy and drops a very generous tip on the counter in front of him.
"Because it's wrong and I do not want to be part of it. You're my age, Regina, you shouldn't be settling for grandpa Blanchard."
"I'm not settling, I—"
"Are you going to tell me you're in loooove with him?" Ruby asks with an exaggerated flutter of her lashes, hands clasped together against her cheek.
Regina knows she should say yes, should lie through her teeth and pretend to the world that this is what she wants, otherwise she'll never hear the end of it from her mother, but she can't bring herself to lie to Ruby, and somehow knows she'll see right through her if she does, so she settles for "it's complicated."
"Look, you're the only person I've met in this ridiculous world that isn't dull or after my money, I just want you to be happy."
"I will be, Ruby, you don't have to worry," and she will be. After tonight, she won't have to worry about money or her mother or Leopold's wondering hands and lascivious gaze ever again.
They move on to lighter subjects, Ruby regaling her with anecdotes of her life, her travels, and Regina finds herself envying her, her freedom, and sighing in wonder at all the things Ruby's seen, all the places she's visited in the short time she's had the means to do so. They then laugh over tales of her naughtier escapades, and when they've downed their drinks, they walk back to the tea room together, but Regina begs off joining her inside to ruffle some feathers and stays behind, taking a much needed moment to herself, walking out onto the balcony and breathing in the sea air. It's fresh and salty and tastes like the freedom she's always wanted but will never have.
It's after a few minutes, when the sky starts to lose its light, that she feels she's being watched. She's certain of it, has grown so wary of Cora and Leopold that she's become adept at telling when she's being spied on, but this feels different. There's no shiver running up and down her spine to alert her that it's her fiancé who's exploring her body with his beady eyes, or the weird, sickly feeling that tells her mother is near, instead this feels more like... a tingling of sorts, something new, and not necessarily wrong. Sure enough, when she turns her head, she finds that she's being looked at by someone she's never set eyes on before. A man, a very handsome man, stands below on the boat deck, looking up at her intently, but she doesn't feel judged or lecherously stared at against her will, more like admired, and it rattles her that a stranger's gaze seems to be kinder on her than that of her own mother and future husband, so when the man realizes he's been caught staring and nods in her direction, she pretends not to notice, turns around and avoids looking at him until out of the corner of her eye she sees him leave, and she sighs in relief.
"Ah, there you are, darling," a pleasant voice announces, and there's the shiver.
"I've found her, Cora!" Leopold says as he calls out for her mother (aaand there's the nausea), then looks back at her, "we've been looking everywhere for you," he says, his tone calm and collected, but the grip he has on her arm is far less so, and she's sure she'll have small bruises in the morning, but then she remembers there won't be a morning, and she releases a relieved breath.
She is dragged back to her rooms, where her mother practically throws her against the chair in front of her dresser.
"You are not to go spending time alone with that woman again," she snaps.
"What was I supposed to do, mother? Deny the richest woman on the ship my company after she'd requested it?" the sound of Cora's hand colliding with her cheek cuts her sass right off, and she bites her lip to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall at the pain of the slap.
"I don't care who she is, you make up an excuse next time, but you will not be seen in her company, understood?! A friendship with new money like her will only land you with a bad reputation, Regina, and we cannot afford mistakes right now."
"Yes, mother," she says, knowing there's no arguing with her.
Cora then insists she changes for dinner, and Regina goes through the motions of adjusting her corset and donning her dress for the night, a stunning red number with a black overlay full of black crystals swirling in patterns over the bust line and hem. At the last minute, however, she feigns a headache and pretends to collapse on her chair, telling her mother she's not feeling well and would rather stay in for the night.
"Oh, please, Regina, you're being way overdramatic for a little headache," she tells her, but lets her stay in her room all the same, barking orders at the maids to help her finish lacing up her own gown before she heads out the door, shawl draped over her gloved hands as she meets Leopold in the entryway and informs him of Regina's illness. Thankfully, he doesn't even pretend to be concerned, merely saying it was probably that drink she had with Ruby, and then taking Cora's hand and bidding his future bride good night as they head out of the room. Regina decides right there that she won't wait until they're asleep, she's doing this now. It's time.
Ever since she'd found out they would be going to America on board the Titanic, Regina had begun to devise her plan, sometimes indulging in adding a few colorful tweaks here and there to make sure she could cause as much damage as she could before she went. But in the end it all came down to one thing: this is no life, and she's tired of it, refuses to take part in it any further. Even if she managed to escape, her mother would find her, she would never be free of her… unless she jumped from the ship and sunk into oblivion.
Some would say it was a melodramatic approach, others would qualify her as insane; in fact, up until a few weeks ago, Regina herself would, too, because she was not sure she'd have the guts to go through with it, the nerve to end her own life. But then Leopold had required her to bathe while he watched, his tongue peeking out of his mouth and licking his lips as he looked at her and touched himself, and then he'd taken her, like he did sometimes at night, had left her feeling hollow and in pain and hateful of herself, and Regina knew she could do it. Because she wasn't living, she wasn't a person, she was a puppet, and she was done. She'd rather die than partake in another moment of being used and humiliated by the people around her.
As the time for the trip drew closer, her resolve had grown stronger, and it is that resolve that pushes her out the door now, carries her through the corridors and around the ship until she's at the boat deck and she's running, feeling the biting, cold wind in her face as she goes for the stern, bypassing the cargo crane after taking a breath and peering over the railing at the very back of the ship, looking down at the sea foam produced by the propellers, wondering how much it would hurt to fall down there.
She's climbed over the railing and is looking out at the expanse of the ocean before her, taking in the last few glimpses of the beauty around her and bidding the world adieu, when a voice interrupts her carefully crafted inner speech of comfort and hope that she'll find a better place after she falls.
"Don't do it," the voice says, and it startles her for a second, before she turns around and sees the same man from earlier staring back at her, walking slowly towards her with his hands stretched out in front of him.
"Stand back, this is none of your business," she tells him, but it's halfhearted, because somewhere deep within her, the fact that someone's cared enough to want to stop her is making her second guess this entire plan.
"Whatever's going on, we can fix it. I know it doesn't sound that way now, but please, I promise you, I'll help in whatever way I can to make things better for you, just don't jump."
"What's it to you if I jump or not? You don't know me."
"Well, for one, I'd have to jump with you, and I do not fancy having to swim in water that cold."
"What are you talking about?"
"If you jump, I jump after you. I can't very well leave you to die down there, milady."
"Stop trying to distract me and get out of here, I need to do this," she tells him, desperation in her voice.
"No, you don't," he says, his tone calm, but there's a hint of concern there, a bead of hope that he'll be able to pull her back over the rail, and she finds herself clinging to it despite her better judgment.
"Please, you don't understand," she says then, tears falling down her face, "I can't go back, I can't."
"Then don't. Find something new, something you like. Life can be beautiful, believe me, you just have to open your heart to see it."
"And you know this how?"
"Come back over the rail and I'll explain," he says. He's reached her now, hand still outstretched and offered for her to take. His eyes are blue, she can tell now by the way the moonlight shines on them, and they are big and bright and full of worry, no pity or ulterior motives, just the need to help her.
"Come on," he says, his voice dropped to a low and velvety tenor as she hesitates, her hand hovering over his, "I promise we'll find a solution."
She has no idea what possesses her to do it (she doesn't know this man, after all), but she finds herself grabbing his hand, smiling a little when he sighs in relief.
"I'm Robin, by the way," he says as he helps her come back on to the ship. She wobbles on her feet from the nerves that are shaking her, but he catches her before she falls, holds her tightly for a moment before he lets go, though he remains close. She chuckles when she realizes there are tears falling from her eyes, but she returns the courtesy, smiling back at him and breathing one word in reply.
"Regina."
Okay so how am I doing? Is this okay? I apologize for the short chapters, they'll get longer as we go further into the story, but I needed to end this one here.
Next chapter: a little of Robin's perspective on this first meeting and some getting-to-know-you fluff =)