A/N: I know, I know, I said Friday. Life got unexpectedly busy and this chapter was a bit harder to write than the last two. Not to mention I spent hours last night trying to get FFnet to open so I could post it... but it wouldn't... it's finally up now so that's good.
Prepare yourselves for some Regina POV. There's quite a bit of Roland, a little Robin (I'm sorry, just bare with me okay, it'll be worth it), and Emma makes an appearance in there too.
I'll update ASAP, so just let me know your thoughts until then?
By the time they'd stepped outside the diner, Regina was fuming. How such a lovely day (as lovely as her days could be ever since she'd awoken to the new curse, that is) had turned into… well, whatever that was, was beyond her. She knew the blonde was in a state of grieving, but her mood had shifted far too sporadically within the last hour, and quite frankly, despite her efforts, Regina Mills was not a patient woman. She could only withstand so much of the Savior's idiocy.
She's lucky I've changed, she thinks to herself. But she has Henry, and she's right, he doesn't remember her. She's no more than a stranger to her own son. Even the littlest things they'd once shared were gone, erased from his memory. Well, not gone, changed. Changed so that her son and his idiot birth mother could live happily ever after. Now instead of her face, it was the blonde's he saw when he remembered learning to read, having his tears wiped and injuries kissed after a fall, or drinking hot chocolate in the middle of the night after a nightmare. All their memories together, he no longer remembered them as they existed.
She's known for some time that good deeds, like magic, come with a price. Especially for her. What else did she expect? She's the Evil Queen, she always would be, the blonde had said so herself once. The fact that she had been stupid enough to expect even the least bit of gratitude was ridiculous, childish, and… and… incredibly naive. She had been so sure that she was doing the right thing, the visions had shown her, they had been a promise that Henry would be happy, as would Emma, and eventually… she herself. But of course, as always, happiness was not meant for her. That irritating blonde that she had come to —
"My Majesty?" Roland's sweet little voice breaks her from her thoughts, and she's somewhat thankful for the reprieve. The mind could be a torturous place, especially that of an Evil Queen, former or not.
"Yes, dear?" She fakes a smile, maintaining the mask she had spent decades refining, before habitually correcting his mistake, "And it's Your Majesty."
He narrows his eyes and crinkles his little nose in response before answering, "That's what I said, My Majesty."
"Your, dear." She corrects again, though not unkindly.
"Papa says that your to you means my to me." He nods then, as if to confirm with himself that he is indeed correct.
She chuckles then because despite the torment within her mind, Roland is quite the adorable child. "Of course dear," she concedes, preferring to gloss over the issue for the time being, "but perhaps it would be easier if you called me Regina."
"Okay!" he beams up at her and it seems to comfort her a little, although something about that comfort is a little unsettling, but she decides that this is most certainly not the time to dwell on imaginary concerns.
"Regina?" he speaks timidly, he's testing out the new title and he seems a little uncertain, as though perhaps she hadn't meant it.
So she smiles reassuringly in response, hoping it's enough for the boy before urging him on, "What is it, dear?"
"I'm done." He raises the cup towards her.
"I see." Her smile widens as she plucks it from his fingers and walks them over to the nearest trash bin before discarding of the now-empty cup, "And how did you like your very first hot chocolate?"
He hums appreciatively and licks his lips before grinning up at her
"I'll take that as a sign you enjoyed it." She shakes her head ever so slightly as he nods eagerly. He's adorable with his little grin stained with hot chocolate and sprinkles, "You've made quite a mess of yourself, it seems." She gestures towards the nearest bench, "have a seat and we'll get you all cleaned up."
"And then we play?"
"Yes, dear, and then we play." She confirms with a nod.
He pulls himself up to sit on the bench, his feet far from reaching the ground, and immediately starts kicking his legs in excitement. She shakes her head slightly once more, biting back a grin. She remembers Henry at this age, bursting with love and excitement, and for once remembering him doesn't hurt. The boy before her now is not a replacement, far from it, but he is a sweet, motherless little boy embarking on a new adventure and she's glad to be the one to take him there.
She waves her hand, making a point of showing off a little and Roland claps excitedly as the wet napkin appears in the palm of her hand. She then proceeds to clean up his face and hands. Of course, it takes a little work because that beverage has a tendency to stick, but by the time she's done, he's grinning up at her with pure adoration in his eyes and it warms her heart a little. Yes, Roland is a welcome distraction from all the pain she's cursed herself to live with, not to mention the blonde woman who always knows exactly how to get under her skin.
"Is that it?" he asks eagerly.
The plan had been to drive to their destination, but as it happens, her legs had a plan all on their own, because as she looks away from Roland, she spots the park she'd built for her son (and the other children, of course) all that time ago a short distance away.
"Yes, dear, that is the park." She smiles, trying to ignore the pang in her chest that comes with the sight of it. The one that screams Henry.
"It looks like a castle!" He exclaims.
"That it does, my dear Roland."
He giggles in anticipation before tugging at her arm a little and asking, "May I?"
She chuckles in response, though it sounds more like a strangled sob, but it doesn't perturb the child in the least, thankfully. "Of course you may, just be careful."
He jumps off the bench then and races towards the play area. The brunette watches the happy child from a distance, and all she hears is Emma's voice in her head telling her that this is 'wrong'. She pushes it aside as best as she can, but not before the words 'I'm glad he doesn't remember you' snake their way back into her mind.
Roland is not a replacement, she assures herself. This has nothing to do with Henry. This is about Roland and Robin and a favor she chose to pay.
With that final thought, she makes her way towards the park, where the young child already seems to be having the time of his life. He waves when he sees her approach and she returns the gesture while an insincere smile takes form upon her lips.
They spent a few hours at the park until it became obvious that Roland was exhausted, and truth be told, Regina herself was quite tired. What she would not admit, however, was the fact that it wasn't watching Roland that did it, but rather her own mind and its inability to cease thinking about her son and his other mother. Roland whined about his aching feet a few times on the way back to her car, and she tried carrying him for a short while, but her heels were simply not equipped for the extra weight. So the walk to her car was far from enjoyable, but it was over soon enough. He fell asleep on the way to the mansion, but the moment she put the car in park, he woke up. She couldn't help but remember Henry at his age, as she had many times throughout their day together, and she lets out yet another sigh.
An hour has passed since they'd arrived at the mansion, she had changed her outfit shortly after arriving, having no desire to look anything short of perfect at all times and her previous outfit had been worn long enough for one day. Now Roland is seated in the dining room, equipped with a plastic Buzz Lightyear cup (she had bought it for him on their way home, her glasses were not exactly appropriate for such a young child and she had rid herself of Henry's old ones years ago) filled with apple juice, a coloring book and some crayons. The door to the dining room is left slightly ajar so that she can hear him if needed while she prepares dinner. She had invited the outlaw to dinner for the night. She hadn't exactly intended to do so, but seeing as she would be spending the day with his child, and the mansion was quite a lonely place these days, her lips had made the invitation before she could stop them.
She slides the lasagna into the oven, washes her hands, and begins picking apples to make dessert. Roland certainly seems to have an appetite for the fruit, and if the outlaw has an issue with them, then that fairy dust is even further from accurate than she thought. Her love for apples comes second only to her love for Henry —third, her torturous mind reminds her. She had loved few people in her life time, and every one of them pained her, but they were worth it. Henry, that one other person she refused to name and her beloved apple tree were all she had left. And the first two weren't really hers, not currently, and perhaps they never would be, but still she loved them.
Perhaps baking this apple pie was a test, if he refused it, that would be reason enough to walk away from supposed destiny. Soul mates, she scoffed, what a ridiculous idea that was. A common outlaw and the Evil Queen, in what realm did that make any sense? There was no way Tinkerbell's fairy dust was legitimate, right? She had been shown a completely different vision a year ago, one she could only hope would become reality. Even if it seemed hopeless to think it. No matter what life threw her, she never did learn, happiness was never meant for her.
But she wants it. She wants it so badly. She needs it. Especially now, with a son who thinks of her as no more than a stranger.
She begins chopping the apples a little too harshly, trying desperately to drown out her thoughts with the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board. It isn't working. If anything, it only serves to frustrate her further, her thoughts becoming more and more treacherous. Damn the blonde Savior for taking her happiness without so much as a look back. Damn her and her belief in the Evil Queen's redemption. Damn her and her new, much more tolerable wardrobe. Damn her and that adorable grin and infuriatingly beautiful long blonde hair. Damn the Savior and everything she represents! Damn Emma Swan!
Her internal rant is cut short only by the loud clashing sound which stops her cold. She focuses her attention before her and finds that the apples have been tossed all over the counter, the board split in half, and one of her glass cabinets shattered, the porcelain swan mocking her as she takes in the damage. Well, that was something that hadn't happened in a while. She'd lost control of her magic.
She glares at the white swan for a moment before the foolishness of it all catches up with her and she bursts into laughter. The real thing that hasn't happened in a while, is laughter. She can't remember the last time she'd laughed like this, pure and uncaring. The sound is deep and rich even to her own ears. The water gathers in her eyes as she holds her abdomen and bends over. She laughs and laughs and it feels so good and so bad all at once.
And then the door bursts open and a petrified little boy stares wide eyed at the queen. Her laughter slows as she takes in his presence and she straightens her posture, his gaze falls to her torso and that's when she realizes she's still holding the knife, and it seems to have cut into her apron, but she feels nothing so it can't have gone any further than that. Or at least she hopes not.
"Oh" is the only sound that escapes her lips at the moment and she gently places the knife on the counter.
He stares at her, a shivering pout on his face and she swears he's about to cry.
"I'm sorry," she moves toward him slowly, her voice isn't completely clear as she tries to get her breathing back to normal. "I didn't mean to frighten you, dear."
He looks away and a tear falls down his sweet face. She pulls him into her arms then, and he not only allows it but completely melts into her arms. The sobs come out then, and it's such a painful sound.
"Shhhh it's alright, everything's fine." She reassures him as she rubs his back. "You're safe, dear. I'm here." She realizes that the sounds must have been a little frightening, but his reaction is far worse than she could have anticipated and all she can do is hold him and whisper words that may or may not mean anything to him.
They stay this way for a while, it could be minutes or hours, she's not entirely certain, but the sobs have finally ceased and his breathing has calmed considerably. He begins to loosen his grip a little and she whispers in response, "better?" She feels him nod against her shoulder before completely pulling away. She then wipes under his eyes with a delicate finger and he smiles ever so slightly.
"Now, how about we get you cleaned up, dinner is almost ready, and your father will be here soon." He beams at the mention of his father and she feels the relief flood through her.
She assists him in washing and drying his face before heading back to the kitchen. Luckily, the lasagna hadn't burned at all, in fact, it's perfect, so she pulls it out and sets it down to cool a little. By the time she washes her hands and removes her apron (fortunately, she was right and the knife hadn't cut past her apron), the door bell rings.
She hears the little boy run to the door excitedly calling out for his papa, and she really can't help but smile. The sound alone reminds her of little Henry, excitedly pouncing on her upon her return home. Henry loved having a babysitter, those were the days he could eat food she otherwise wouldn't allow him. He never knew that she had specifically provided the babysitter with the treats and instructed them to feed him as ever he wanted. She had always felt guilty when she couldn't be with him. Well, at least that guilt could be shared with the blonde now, it was perhaps one of the few good things to come of her sacrifice. No, she reminds herself,everything about her sacrifice was worth it, Henry was finally happy.
She makes her way to the door, welcomes her guest and leads father and son to the dining room.
Dinner is quite an awkward affair at first, Regina and Robin stealing glances at one another, some interested, some curious and some… quite unreadable. They smile awkwardly a few times, enjoying their meal, but inside Regina feels like throwing things, this whole idea was ridiculous and this is certainly one of the most uncomfortable dinners she'd experienced in this land.
Luckily for them both, they have a little buffer to ease the tension. Clearly the discomfort had only bored the young boy, so he excitedly solves the issue by speaking up. Roland fills the silence with a thorough review of their day together, including the "really yummy" discovery known as hot chocolate which his papa had to get him "every day forever and ever because it's so mmm!" He also mentions Regina's little magic trick on the bench, to which Robin's face contorts into disapproval. And who the hell is he to disapprove? He's the idiot who left his son with the Evil Queen! Thankfully, the only detail he leaves out is the kitchen catastrophe, his adventure ending with a coloring book and his papa finally arriving for dinner.
Once they've finished their meals, Regina doesn't even bother offer a drink or clear up the table, instead she rises, as does the outlaw. They silently agree that the night is through and then they make their way to the front door.
With a little help, Roland puts on his shoes and coat and then, as his father dresses in his own boots and coat (which, honestly, is one of the most hideous jackets she has ever seen), he turns to her and wraps his arms around her legs. He says his thank you and she finds herself leaning down to his level for a proper hug. She offers him a smile and a promise of "Any time, my dear. The pleasure was all mine." He beams up at her in response, hugs her a little tighter and then moves to the door.
Bidding adieu to his father, however, is not quite as pleasant. Not that she would want it to be, he is just… completely wrong for her. Tinkerbell was wrong. So very, very wrong. There was no way he was her soul mate. What a preposterous idea that was!
She offers him a fake smile and a curt nod, opening the door for the two. He smiles back, and it's a little more genuine than her own, though why is beyond her. Roland exits first, coloring pad and crayons in his hands (because of course she let him keep them, she has no other use for them, and he's quite proud of his coloring abilities) as he waits patiently for his father to follow. The outlaw follows his son, but quickly turns back towards her, just outside the doorway.
"Have I mentioned how lovely you look tonight?" his gaze sweeps up and down her body before returning to her eyes.
She strongly resists the urge to roll her eyes in response and answers instead with a "thank you."
"No, thank you, milady, for such a lovely feast, and for taking care of Roland. I am completely indebted to you."
"As I said before, Roland is a lovely boy, it was my pleasure." She smiles more genuinely this time because she really does find she adores the boy.
That is, until the outlaw takes her hand in his and her smile falters. He brings her hand to his lips and places a light kiss to her flesh. She tries to smile, she really does. It's been quite some time since anyone has paid this sort of attention to her, and it is quite nice, though a little odd considering how uncomfortable their dinner had been.
He locks gazes with her for a moment and his lips quirk up into a smile which does nothing to help the unease she feels within her. He leans in then, his lips pursed and his intent all too clear. She feels her heart race and she freezes momentarily, staring in awe as he comes closer and closer into her personal space. She can feel his breath against her flesh as he searches her eyes before returning his gaze to her lips.
It's both exciting and frightening and clearly his impression of the night is not aligned with her own. But it's been so long since anyone has desired her this way, so long since anyone has been even remotely interested in her. So very, very long. And part of her wants to give in, just completely abandon all logic and allow his lips to meet her own.
But in the end, logic and fear win out and she turns her head away just in time. He fumbles slightly at the quick movement but recovers quickly enough, placing a soft kiss to her cheek instead. It's strange, but she's blushing furiously. It felt good. Inexplicably and unexpectedly good. She finds herself incredibly tempted to just grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him towards her, plant her lips on his and pretend he's the one she had grown to love instead of who he truly is as they pull apart breathlessly.
She doesn't, however. She knows how huge a mistake that would be, knows she can't take any sort of chance, not now. Her heart is too fragile for it, she couldn't bear any additional pain, couldn't bear the torment it would surely cause her.
He smiles slightly as he pulls away, the disappointment and rejection clear on his features, but he gives her an understanding nod. She attempts to smile back but all she can manage is to lift one corner of her lips slightly and it's all too discomforting a feeling and simply does not suit the former Evil Queen. He bids her goodnight one final time, turns away, takes his son's hand and leads him away from the mansion.
Regina stares after them for a while, a little too shocked and far from comfortable with the odd turn of the evening. She lets out a long sigh, rubs her fingers against her freshly kissed cheek and turns to re-enter her large, lonely mansion. She closes the door knowing all too well how little sleep she'll be getting tonight.
Unbeknownst to the queen and her departed guests, however, a certain blonde finds herself wiping furiously at her eyes as she makes her way back to her yellow bug. Unfortunately for the Savior, she'd turned away just before Regina had, and as she wept for reasons she still couldn't quite understand, she was certain that the mayor had kissed that man by her door. She had kissed the man whose damn hug had started all this… whatever the hell she was feeling. And she knew, the brunette was falling in love. She was right all along, of course, her lie detector had failed earlier that day in the diner; Regina really had found herself a new family. And she was happy. The blonde climbed into her car and drove home, or what she was temporarily calling home, driving a little too fast and caring far too little as the tears blurred her vision.
